Conditions

"I am afraid I must ask you to repeat yourself, Ser Lucas," Jon Arryn said, clear disbelief etched across his face. "Did you truly say that you would fund the entire project alone?"

"You heard me correctly, my lord," Lucas replied with a calm smile.

The entire table was in almost stunned silence. Although, they were no experts of matters related to wealth, they knew that whatever the cost of the project would be, it was going to be astronomical. And even a house like Lannister could not bear the full expenses. And they were sure that Lucas was not speaking on behalf of house Lannister but on his own behalf.

"You are speaking of something vast, something nearly impossible, Ser Lucas," Olenna Tyrell remarked breaking the silence, her eyes sharp with curiosity and wariness. "It borders on outrageous. Hard to believe, if I may say so."

"Clearly, Ser Lucas, despite his triumphs does not truly grasp the scale of gold required for what he has dreamed up and making us all believe," Petyr Baelish interjected with a scoff.

His words were mocking and dismissive of Lucas. It was his subtle retaliation for Lucas having ignored his counsel earlier. But Lucas patience had thinned with the Baelish.

"I understand coin far better than you, Lord Baelish," Lucas said coolly. "For you have nearly doubled the Crown's debt during one of the longest summers Westeros has seen. Crops are abundant, fruit hangs ripe on every tree and yet under your stewardship and tax collection should be at their peak, yet debts have been rising."

"I shudder when I imagine," he continued, "that when the inevitable winter comes, when the crops will fail and fruits will not be hanging on the trees, when the smallfolk will be hard pressed to even feed themselves and ultimately taxes fall, I doubt you will even manage to feed the royal family."

A flush of embarrassment and simmering anger coloured Baelish's cheeks, but since he did not wish this topic to be dragged more than necessary, he wisely held his tongue.

Lucas then turned to face Robert directly.

"Your Grace," Lucas began, his tone respectful yet unwavering. "I will fund the entire project myself. And I will see to recovering the expense from it personally. If I fail in my endeavour then the Crown may take my head."

A stunned silence fell across the table. Even Robert Baratheon was momentarily struck speechless, his wide blue eyes blinking at Lucas as though to make sure he'd heard right.

"But," Lucas continued evenly, "there are certain conditions to which the Crown must agree."

At that, the entire company seemed to lean in slightly, expressions tightening. Now they all understood this was where the true price would emerge.

"Speak," Robert rumbled. "Let us hear these conditions of yours."

"First of all," Lucas began evenly, "I will brook no interference in my project. What buildings I design, how I construct the houses of the smallfolk, what shops are built, every detail these will be my decisions."

Jon Arryn looked ready to interject, but Lucas pressed on.

"Of course, I am not excluding the Crown," he said. "I will share my plans and ideas but only with His Grace, the King. No one else."

A ripple of discomfort ran through the table. They all understood the pointed barb. Lucas was denying any of them, members of the small council long accustomed to wielding influence any chance to direct or meddle in the undertaking.

Jon Arryn's face tightened. Even Renly's expression soured. These were almost used to wielding authority on par with the king.

"Next?" Robert prompted, his tone unreadable.

"In no way," Lucas continued, "will I be compelled to reveal the secrets of my businesses. How I make my metals, how I fit them? These remain my own. I will deliver results. No one will pry into the methods."

More tense looks. Several of them shifted in their seats. They had wanted to use to King's influence to pry some secrets.

"And?" Robert rumbled.

"My third condition," Lucas said. "It will be me and only me who decides how and to whom the houses and shops are distributed. What payment a merchant makes to lease a shop or warehouse. These will be my decisions."

He paused, then added with deliberate calm, "Of course, the Crown may take a direct share. I will reserve a percentage of allocations for the King's nomination but there will be no free handouts or special rates in the name of favour. The Crown may give me the names, I will set the terms."

"You are asking for near total control of King's Landing itself!" Renly snarled, unable to hold back.

Lucas merely lifted a hand. "If you will allow me to finish, Lord Baratheon, there are two conditions more."

It was almost cruel, the way he smiled, because what came next was even more audacious.

"Fourth. It will be I who collects all rents, leases, and taxes on these new developments. For the next twenty years, I will keep all such rents and fees. And half of the taxes, while the remaining half goes to the royal treasury."

Renly shot to his feet, his chair toppling over with a loud clatter.

"Do you hear yourself? You demand the realm's taxes? Are you to be the fucking king in all but name?"

"How else do you expect me to recover the vast costs of this venture, Lord Baratheon?" Lucas asked coolly. "Call it something else if it pleases you. A loan, with the leases and taxes as structured repayments. I assure you. Your half share will still be far more than the Crown takes in from King's Landing now."

Renly was nearly purple with outrage, but Robert barked, "Sit down, Renly."

With a scowl, Renly obeyed.

Robert exhaled, eyeing Lucas with wary interest. "And your last demand?"

"For a city to flourish, law and order must be unshakable," Lucas said. "King's Landing's current state is shameful to say the best. If cutthroats roam free, nothing will thrive. So, my final condition. I will take the office of Lord Commander of the City Watch or I will appoint someone to that office. And I will be answerable only to you, Your Grace."

Renly slammed a fist on the table. As Master of Laws, the Lord Commander of City's watch reported to him. This was his power Lucas sought to take away.

But Lucas did not so much as glance at him. His eyes remained locked on Robert, the man whose word would decide everything.

And the king was utterly calm. And seeing his brother so calm, Renly hold his tongue off. At least for now.

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