Chapter 8

The smell of a brothel is something that doesn't change, no matter where you go. They try to hide it with candles and perfumes and scented powders, and by all standards, Chataya's was better than most, better even then the ones I'd been inclined to in my youth. But in the end, if you got a nose for it as I did, it was still the same smell of old sex and melancholy that stood out from the spicy incense in the air.

Flowing silk and sultry whispers can only bury so much misery.

Ser Balon fidgeted next to me on his stool as we waited for the madam to appear. He looked caught between half-naked girls as they danced and swayed across the common room and a few words said in oath to a fat man in fat robes in the middle of a sept. It was enough to make me pity him when I realized he was just some odd years older than Tommen, young enough to be my own son.

"I don't care about this part of your vows, you know," I told him over my wine cup. "I shall take no wife, father no children and whatnot. Yet many a man of the Night's Watch visit the brothels nearest the Wall. Mole's Town, I believe the name is. So long as you're discreet and don't get them with child…" I shrugged. "And I doubt these girls will be marrying anytime soon."

Ser Balon shook his head as if to center himself. Too many naked girls will do that to a young man. "The Kingsguard is not the Night's Watch, Your Grace." His tone was low and firm. Rightfully so, Ser Balon was still a bit sullen toward me after the little baby murder debacle. "And I will not sully my white cloak."

I nodded. The honorable answer, as I've come to expect out of him. He was a better man than I.

A few minutes of silence later and I spotted the most famous whore in King's Landing as she entered the room through a side door. Chataya was a tall and lithe woman, wearing thin slips of bright silk that accentuated her glossy black skin. She talked and laughed with the patrons like a queen holding court, before stopping to speak with one of her guards.

Quickly, I downed the rest of my drink and stood up. A few eyes turned to watch me, but I felt my identity was safe enough within the enclosure of my helmet. "Come," I said to the kingsguard. "I believe I've given him enough time to have his fun. The world waits for no man, not even kings. Or princes, in this case."

I walked across the common room toward the end of the bar, shouldering past drunk lordlings and nameless knights. Some raised their voices behind me, but Ser Balon was quick to dissuade them with his size alone. There's just something about a big man in a big armor that sobers you up like a bucket of cold water.

Coming up to the brothel's madam, I gave her a small bow and a crooked smile. "Lady Chataya." I turned my voice into a thin, wheezy thing. "Pardon the interruption, m'lady, but we're here to see the Prince. We was told he had come to… sample of your wares."

When she turned to address me, she was quick to hide her distaste behind a purple smile. We had gotten quite a few of these glances from the noble patrons and Chataya's girls when we first entered, all armed and armored in red. This was the most expensive brothel this side of the Narrow Sea, and I doubted even Lannister man-at-arms made enough coin to step inside this place.

"You heard correctly, good ser," said Chataya in a silky accent. "But I am afraid to say the Prince is currently undisposed toward visitors. Perhaps you could come back another time, yes?"

I reached inside my armor. It didn't go unnoticed to me that two other bouncers had approached us from behind. I pulled out a purse and put it on top of the polished wooden bar. "We're here on Small Council business, m'lady. Quick word with the Prince and we'll be out of your hair."

One of her men poked inside the purse with meaty fingers and nodded slightly at her. Chataya's smile turned a bit more genuine. "If that is the case, I would be more than happy to personally tend to your needs," she said. Then she opened her slim arms in a gesture of surrender. "Our patrons, however, are not for sale."

That took me by surprise. A scrupulous whore. I didn't know whether to applaud her or to end the farce and simply order the Prince down. In the end, I chose neither.

"Not to worry, m'lady." I pointed at the gold. "That's just to interrupt him enough to give him a message. Tell him Ser Gregor and a friend are waiting for him downstairs, if you would."