Naerys I

Walking across the streets of Gulltown she spied stone buildings being renovated. Their thatched wooden roofs are being replaced with clay tiles. Construction livened the city as she noticed the local Westerosi looking far happier compared to the first time she got here. The silver-blond-haired woman felt a little betrayed when Aleqqo told her he didn’t need her anymore but was surprised by his reason. He wanted her to look after the little boy from Riverrun who she hasn’t seen for a long time.

Rumours at the time said the boy died at the hands of the Stark heir and she couldn’t help but weep. The boy was a genius. He remembered everything and had a knack for numbers and advanced algebra. Little Petyr absorbed everything she taught him and to know he was alive was a relief. Yet she still couldn’t help rage at Aleqqo. Leaving the comforts of the ‘Mermaid’s Curves’ and Braavos was not something she looked forward to. Especially staying in one of the Westerosi cities.

She remembered how Gulltown looked forlorn. The streets were empty with occasional rubble, ash and rotten corpses.

Then she saw the boy – no longer a boy. Stubble formed in his chin and a slight moustache was growing on top of his lips. She strode forward and hugged him and was pleased to see him blush. It seemed he moved on from his childhood crush.

From then on he invited her to his building. She must admit, the architecture looks Braavosi with white marble pillars on the outside with swirling patterns, that crossed over each other, layered on the walls. She felt at home whenever she entered the building, which Petyr kept calling ‘Whitehall’. The name fit but she didn’t know why every time Petyr said the name he looked lost as if a wave of nostalgia drowned him.

She continued to walk towards the harbour whilst avoiding troubadours and overzealous traders and entered through the backdoor of Whitehall. Ever since his successful negotiation with the local faith, she’s been incredibly busy for the past weeks. Petyr gave her the lists of potentially profitable clients. Clients who were in desperate need of dragons to stay afloat to not go bankrupt, yet were capable of using the loan to dig themselves out of their holes and make a profit.

Naerys met these people and gave them the loans they needed. Petyr focused on clients who manufactured furniture, farming tools and jewellers. He focused on the jewellers to soften the impact of the luxury tax. Weirdly, he also focused on the smithies who produced castle-grade steel. The ones who were the most open-minded and capable of adapting to Braavosi technology and engineering.

Aleqqo was hesitant to provide the technological expertise at first but Petyr promised to provide steel ingots to Braavos at a reduced price. This was a surprise for Naerys as it was too beneficial for Petyr. The clockwork engineering allows smithies to harness the power of the river which will, in turn, power the bellows to make the smeltery hotter and power the hammers. This can increase the production of steel by four folds and since the steel doesn’t rely on human-powered hammers – the reliability of the steel will be assured. She knew Aleqqo for years. She knew he was a shrewd negotiator and knew the art of mummery and scamming all too well. Perhaps he was getting too soft, especially when dealing with Petyr who’s his son though not by blood. Even then, Aleqqo is a fierce Braavosi patriot and knew his duty. Perhaps love truly is the death of duty.

Petyr’s obsession with steel was confusing. After the Stag gained control of the Iron throne, the levies were disbanded and ordered to go home. The demand for steel dropped enormously and she wasn’t sure producing more steel would be profitable.

Working with Petyr for a couple of months now, she was privy to his mode of action. When there was no demand he would say, ‘then make a demand, then profit’. But it wasn’t the case here. He didn’t tell him to give out loans to swordsmiths and armoursmiths. Instead, he ordered surveyors to scout for mountains showing a slight volcanic activity to look for brimstone. Then he asked her to give out loans to charcoal burners. Oddly, he ordered his new spymistress, Maribelle, to rescue some alchemists in King’s Landing. How this created a demand for steel, she didn’t know and every time she asked him he would respond in a way that gave her the urge to strangle his neck.

Despite her doubts, she completed her orders without a complaint. She was curious about Petyr’s plan and she trusted him. He was competent and a once-in-a-generation genius. Though she couldn’t help but be a pessimist so she also gave loans to swordsmiths and armoursmiths just in case his plan failed.

“Lady Naerys, welcome. Some of our clients defaulted on their loans and are refusing to pay their fines. We weren’t trained what to do in the preparatory school if this happened. So forgive me for asking, but what am I supposed to do?” A boy with a slight voice crack said. Naerys looked at her new assistant fresh out of Petyr’s schools and sighed.

They still needed a few months of education and experience to be accepted into the Customs Office, but their chronic shortage of workers led to taking them early. This has led to many mistakes, miscommunication and misconduct. Disciplinary measures were supposed to be handed out but Petyr objected to it and made it a public affair. He berated his more experienced staff and explicitly ordered them to be patient. He told them to provide their knowledge and expertise to the graduates to prevent further mistakes. The mistakes of their subordinates would reflect on them and he expected no physical punishments under any circumstances. This was met by applause from the new staff and quiet grumblings from the older staff. It should’ve caused more trouble but thanks to Petyr’s silver tongue, the older staff were mollified after he complimented their competence and expertise.

“Arrick, this is my fault. I didn’t bother teaching you as I didn’t expect anyone to default yet. Let alone having the audacity of refusing Petyr’s fines.” She shook her head and was curious about the people who dared not repay their loans. Perhaps they were testing the waters. Perhaps expecting leniency. Or were they underestimating the full power of the Customs Office? That wouldn’t do. “Send a runner for Rydan Porter telling him to organise a group of soldiers. Make sure they take a conciliator. This is the job of the Regulations and Enforcement. Petyr wouldn’t want any bloodshed and those soldiers are there for intimidation. Speaking of Petyr, make sure he’s informed of this. Knowing him he’ll make it a grandstanding spectacle.” She harrumphed at that. However, one thing nagged incessantly at the back of her mind.

Naerys wasn’t sure about the effectiveness of these Westerosi judges. She didn’t know their skill in diplomacy and they certainly don’t have the same level of qualifications as Braavosi conciliators, but she hoped they would mediate the situation.

This should show a strong message that this body wouldn’t be exploited and would enforce repayment if necessary. She checked the clients who defaulted and noticed they were a day march away from Gulltown. She crossed her fingers and hoped it wouldn’t be a disaster. After all, the client in question is just a minor woodworking family – surely they wouldn’t be connected to anyone powerful.

Stephas I

‘Traitor!”

‘How dare you betray the Graftons!’

‘Stephas, why?’

‘Treason can only be punished with death by beheading. Do you have any last words?”

The maester writhed in his sleep as he suddenly woke up. He panted and gripped his throat and was relieved he wasn’t decapitated – it was all a dream. Relief turned to guilt as he got up from his bed and quickly resumed his daily habits. He went to the communications tower and fed the ravens.

A silver cylinder embroidered with the blue Arryn Falcon immediately straightened his back as he opened the scroll. The scroll was meant for Lord Gerold and he wasn’t meant to read it but ever since Isembard Arryn found out he preferred the same sex, he read confidential letters and relayed them back to Lord Isembard.

Words couldn’t describe the shame he felt. Years of leal and loyal service to house Grafton went down the drain. Years of raising and teaching little Gerry, watching his first step and hearing his first word filled him with pride. He felt disgusted with himself. For lusting for the same sex. For dishonouring the Citadel’s policy on celibacy and in return getting found out. It was meant to be a sober and secretive affair to burn his frustration yet he stupidly drank alcohol. One thing led to another and he was found out by a Grafton servant who was a spy for the Gulltown Arryns.

He picked up the scroll and precisely removed the wax, without damaging it, with a knife. What he read shocked him. Rydan’s men under the command of that upstart, Littlefinger, seized properties and businesses linked to the Arryn patriarch. What puzzled him was the reports stating that the minor woodworking guilds and families had their properties seized for defaulting on their loans and refused to pay their fines. How this related to Isembard, he would never know.

But he has his orders, straight from the Patriarch, to meet him. Reluctantly, he prepared his cloak and made sure his hood covered his face. He used one of the tunnels to exit Grafton Keep to avoid prying eyes.

He snaked across the narrow alleys of Gulltown and trek up the hill on which the Falcon castle nestled upon. The guards on the newly built gatehouse poked their heads out the murder holes and signalled for the gatekeeper to let him in.

Passing through the razor-sharp portcullis he couldn’t help but shudder. The maester should be glad he hitched himself to the winning side. The signs were clear. Increasingly, Arryn influence crept into Gulltown and one could point at the former manse to see the evidence. A manse holding no fortification turned into a castle in just a few months. The main branch of house Grafton held just one member – little Gerry. He clenched his fist and entered the main hall towards the solar of Lord Isembard.

For years, under orders in the pain of releasing his darkest and most sinful secret, he burnt marriage offers to Gerry. Offers from Corbray, Royce, Hardyng and Templeton. He burnt them all and lied to Gerry. Fuelling his paranoia that the houses of Vale conspired against him to take Gulltown.

He wept as he witnessed his dastardly work. He would never forgive himself.

He approached the door where he was let in by the guards before announcing his presence. Once he was inside he saw someone he loathed. A middle-aged man with greying blonde hair smiled, seeing him like a fox hunting down chickens.

“Ah! Maester Stephas, it’s good you saw my missive.” Isembard swerved and gestured for him to sit down. “Please have a seat. We’ll be here for a while.”

The maester nodded grimly in return and took up the offer to sit.

“Now. As you may know, several businesses aligned with me had their assets seized. By none other than Lord Baelish and his pesky Office.” As if a lever has been pulled his jovial demeanour suddenly turned sour with anger bubbling inside him. “It seems the assassination attempt hasn’t given him any pause. Perhaps we should be sending more skilled agents with better tools to finish him off.” He continued to mumble. “How’s it going with driving a wedge between the two boys? Is the boy lord still enamoured with Littlefinger?”

Stephas scoffed at that. “Lord Grafton is not a deviant, like me. I can assure you of that and Lord Baelish seems to have a mistress.” He faked his laughter. “But I do have bad news. Every time Littlefinger proposes a plan, an outrageous plan mind you, Gerr- Gerold seems to catch on. Despite me warning him of the dangers to his power, he trusts Petyr completely. It’s probably because of his success so far.”

Isembard straightened his back and clasped his two fists together. “Plans? This is new.”

“Lord Baelish wishes to further expand the role and responsibilities of the Customs Office to include more aspects of statecraft.”

“Impossible! And you say the boy lord is supportive of this!?” He banged his desk and paused. Stephas nodded in response. “You have to give me the specifics. Now.”

“He wants to revamp and reform the stewardship of Gulltown. He wants it under his control. He wants the control of tax farmers, the mints and the flow of taxes and money in general. He plans to reform coinage to be in line with the Braavosi Decimal system. Not just the coinage, he plans to standardise weights, lengths and volume. Again using the decimal system.”

“I severely underestimated that damn worm! What’s his obsession with Braavos?”

“The Baelish family originated from Braavos, my lord. Perhaps that’s the reason why he’s so good with copper counting.”

Isembard trembled and was about to burst in anger but held it in in favour of taking a huge gulp of breath. “Standardising? Doesn’t he know that will cause chaos in the manufacturing and clothing sector?”

Stephas hunched and faced down to hide his smirk. “It gets much worse, my lord.”

“What could be worse than controlling taxes?”

“He wants to reform the justice system. He-”

“Let me guess! He wants to centralise the system to favour Gerold! He wants to deprive the Arryns of holding court to hand out justice?!” The Arryn patriarch interrupted him as spittles flew from his mouth.

“No much worse. He wants it to be centralised under his supervision. By creating numerous courts across Gulltown and its subsidiary settlements. I think it would be best to explain it with quill and parchment? Care to give it to me?” Stephas cheekily said.

Isembard stood up and grabbed an inkwell and parchment from his shelf and gave it to Stephas.

Stephas mentally congratulated himself for getting Lord Arryn to comply with his request. “The Customs Office will be renamed into the ‘Civil Service of Gulltown’. This institution will include the original responsibilities of the Customs Office but will also control the treasury and the taxes.” The maester paused and delighted himself seeing his tormentor’s apoplectic expression. “Now he plans to create a new wing in his Civil Service called the ‘Judiciary Tribunals’. The words have Valyrian origins meaning Courts and Mediation. This system will include the ‘Supreme Court’ which is appointed by Lord Gerold and Lord Petyr. This court will decide major punishments like murder and rape. It will also be used to prosecute nobility without the means of trial by combat.”

Isembard laughed at this which startled Stephas. “Good luck getting that passed through the Sept. How dare he prevent the Warrior from interceding in justice! How blasphemous!”

“Actually, Petyr somehow convinced the Septon and Septa to agree with him. In return for having a member of the Faith standing in the ‘Supreme Court’.”

This shut up Isembard. “Impossible. They can’t do this!”

“These are men and women of the Faith. Surely they must know the deepest theology of the Seven-who-are-one?”

Isembard’s forehead bulged and he reached out for Stephas’ cloak and tugged it causing the maester to choke. “Shut it you! You know damn well how blasphemous this is.” He pointed at the maester’s chains. “You’ve forged a link for theology! Don’t play ignorant with me! Or else you want the world to know of your sick perversion!”

Lord Arryn relaxed causing Stephas to sag down his seat. The maester cleared his throat and coughed. “You must know, due to the actions of Maegor the Tyrant, the Faith has been decentralised. The Faith varies between the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. For example, the Faith in Dorne are more forgiving of sex outside of marriage and bastardy.”

“How about the High Septons of King’s Landing and the Starry Sept of Oldtown? Can they overrule this blasphemy?” He waved his arms frantically and wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead.

“I’m afraid not. The matters of faith in the Vale can only be decided by the Septons and Septas in the Vale.”

Lord Arryn raised his eyes and his pupils dilated. He forcefully clapped his hands together. “That’s it! I’ll send ravens to Septs outside of Gulltown to contest this heresy! Perhaps involving the nobility as well. They’ll not take well to reducing their noble privileges.”

He was about to take off to find the Falcon Castle’s maester but was interrupted by Stephas. “But my lord, there’s more. Do you want to hear how the lower courts are managed?”

Isembard wrapped his cloak over him and opened the door out of his solar. “I think I’ve heard enough. Littlefinger is a dangerous man. I feel a simple assassination will fail considering my spies were captured en masse when infiltrating Whitehall.” He smiled again which caused Stephas to flinch. “Yes, that’s it! Maribelle needs another Arryn bride. Hopefully, it won’t die by the pox this time.” He flew out of his solar prompting his guards to throw Stephas out.

Looks like he completely forgot about the seizure of his affiliated properties.

Stephas was left alone to ruminate. He couldn’t help but think of Petyr. He seemed like a good influence on Gerry. A competent man with the ability to rub two coins together to make the third. He increased the tax output by five folds which he deemed impossible due to post-war construction. The fact he did it in half a year was awe-inspiring. The ideas that poured out of him were out of this world. Stephas rubbed his hands together in excitement. Let’s see how Littlefinger handles this.

Petyr IV

Celebrations and merriment were being carried out across the GrandHall of Whitehall. By his orders, the former warehouse was refitted with marble walls with paintings depicting the logos of the Civil Service Departments. There were only four but with the Treasury and Judiciary soon to come under control, he’ll look forward to thinking about their logos and adding them to the hall. Chandeliers lined with gold and full of clear Myrish glass bedecked the ceiling. Many high arches were carved out of the wall and paned with clear glass giving the GrandHall an airy and light atmosphere.

It couldn’t have been possible without the seizure of those properties. He, Naerys and Rydan was shocked by the bounty those families and guilds had. Stacks upon stacks of golden dragons were hidden conspicuously in basements and attics. Some were even buried underneath farms. They would’ve been impossible to find if it weren’t for his useful and loyal vagabonds in the Department of Marketing. Speaking of them, they deserve a pay rise! A rather big one!

The horde of money wasn’t even dented when he splashed it into making this GrandHall. He was sure this would make the Civil Service prestigious enough to host high-ranking nobility, clergy and wealthy merchants. As much as he wants to focus on the humbler folk, they simply didn’t have enough power and money to influence major decisions. All he can do is siphon money from brain-dead nobles and redistribute it towards them through loans with nigh impossibility to default.

At least he now has the budget to build more piers and expand the harbour to the delight of Master Porter.

Shaking out from his thoughts he clinked his newly forged wine glass. Slowly, the revelry of his loyal staff quietened down and focused their attention on Petyr.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt your well-deserved feast. I hope we have more of this in the future!” The audience hollered and cheered at that. “But I must say this! Thank you all!” He pointed at random members of the audience and personally called them out by their names and thanked them. He moved around and clapped people on their shoulders. “I couldn’t have done it without your help! Gulltown is prospering because of YOU!” He gestured towards them and paused for the audience’s merriment to calm down. “Good deeds must be rewarded. Always. So, I’m ordering a five per cent rise in everyone’s salary! Spend your money well!” Thunderous applause which eclipsed previous ones shook the walls and the windows. Petyr left out the fact he was increasing the spies' salary by ten per cent. He didn’t need inter-department rivalry this early on.

He finished his speech and crept past the hordes of people to Naerys and Rydan. “Don’t drink too much. I expect you to be in my solar in an hour. Sober. Before that schmooze and be friendly.” Both nodded at that.

Petyr still wasn’t sure whether to call for Maribelle. She was an integral part of the future Civil Service. Her abilities to sort out information and her keen sense of economics and matters of trade were important in increasing the profits of Gulltown merchants which in turn increased taxes.

Gerold was happy enough to pocket thirty per cent of the tax and generously gave Petyr seventy per cent. To Petyr’s favour the thirty per cent, in terms of the number of golden dragons, was much higher than he would normally get. He also got to lecture the young boy on the importance of investment. Gold sitting in the vaults will do no good. It's best to funnel it into infrastructure and promising ventures. He listened and eventually the money he used to invest will funnel back into Petyr.

Petyr trusted Maribelle’s competence but not her loyalty. Her first most loyalty was to House Vantery and if he was lucky, he would get second place. Then again, his subordinates also had primary loyalty to someone else. Rydan was loyal to Gerold and Naerys was loyal to Aleqqo.

He took the leap of faith and approached Maribelle. I need something to further tie her to me. Maybe marriage? He sputtered at that and took a moment to look at her features. High cheekbones, blonde hair just like her cousins and brown eyes. A beauty for sure. Not as attractive as Naerys but I have no chance with the Valyrian beauty anyways. Naerys has always longed for Aleqqo. He shrugged. Yes. This could work. He would need to work it out with Orland, but he’ll say yes.

“Maribelle.” She shooed her staff away – well Petyr’s staff. “I have a need of you at my solar. In an hour. Sober.”

Maribelle slightly stepped back as she stared at the door. She gripped her hands together to stop it fidgeting. “Of course. I’ll be there and no… I wouldn’t be needing a palanquin. I’m not as dainty as you would think.”

Petyr smiled at that. Such a strong woman with a visage of steel is attractive in Petyr’s opinion.

As the hour passed he climbed eight flights of stairs. It was getting easier every day. Though he was tempted to install a pulley elevator powered by cattle. He nodded to his guards, Derrick and Edgar, and entered his solar. The three people inside stood up out of respect for him and in return, he nodded to them.

“Now, you may be wondering why I summoned you here instead of celebrating.”

“Ye better have a good reason fer this, boy. I bought several barrels of Dornish Red and I want to drink ‘em.”

Naerys giggled at that whereas Maribelle rolled her eyes.

“I think everyone will have to drink after what I’m going to say.”

The trio straightened up immediately and pulled their seats closer to Petyr.

“You already know about my plans to create the Civil Service, Rydan. This is for the two ladies.” He directed his attention at them and relayed everything he said to Gerold and his council.

Maribelle stood up in shock and gave Petyr an accusatory point. “You can’t do this! The Arryns and every nobility across Gulltown will revolt! From knights to minor lords! Including the Grafton branch families! There’s going to be chaos across this city!” She heaved and took a huge breath then pointed at Rydan. “How can you, who’s also an advisor to the boy lord approve of this! What’s Lord Grafton’s stance on this insanity?”

Rydan comically spread his arms out. “He was fully supportive.”

Maribelle aggressively nodded her head at that. “See! Gerold is agains-“ She paused. “Wait he’s supportive! WHY?!”

“Gerry was raised to rule his people justly and fairly. He didn’t find it fair how the nobility can escape justice by fighting through a trial by combat but the smallfolk can’t. Even the Septon and Septa were against such a barbaric practice.” Rydan said without his lowborn accent.

“I support that. I think it’s the right thing to do. But it doesn’t mean we should do it! The nobility can rise in revolt at the mere idea of having their privilege revoked!

“And the centralisation of taxes! Controlled by you!” The former Vantery gave Petyr a withering look. “This was all your plan, right! Controlling Gulltown! Don’t you see this is what he’s doing!” She looked pleadingly at Rydan.

Rydan dismissed it entirely. “If he is then why did he employ you? Why did he employ me? We clearly have ulterior motives and loyalties outside of the Civil Service.”

Naerys broke her silence. “I’ve known Petyr when he was little. A boy who was always looking to please and to serve. His humility knows no bounds. He was a genius in the matter of mathematics and could rival the maesters in their Citadel. Despite this, he didn’t grow arrogant and even pursued more knowledge.” She fondly remembered little Petyr. “When we offered to take him to Braavos where his skills could be recognised.” She paused and looked across the solar. “Forgive me, I mean no offence but the Sunset Kingdoms are barba- Don’t appreciate the talents related to the mind. Did you know how he responded?”

Maribelle shook her head and signalled for her to continue. Petyr’s face and ears blushed red.

“He refused our offer. He wanted to become a steward of Riverrun, instead. ‘To serve Catelyn’s family and to repay them for taking him in and honouring his father’s wishes. A truly kind boy. Even now, as an adult, instead of spending and siphoning money away for his needs he chose to give it to the smallfolk. Not only is he humble - he’s generous as well.”

Petyr couldn’t help but sob lightly at that. Tears poured from his mind before he quickly wiped them away. He was tempted to blow his nose but refrained. “Naerys, I sincerely thank you for your vote of confidence. But I believe Maribelle is right on this one.”

Rydan jerked his head back whereas Maribelle harrumphed in victory.

“Just as I said to Septon Qarlton and Septa Dennise, I seek power. Not for myself, but for everyone’s needs. I aim to serve everyone. That’s reflected in my ambitious vision for the Civil Service. A truly neutral body that would serve the people. I also made sure to employ people that don’t have blind loyalty to me, because I’m human. And to be human is to err. I need people who are intelligent enough to correct me if I made a mistake.”

“Yes. Yes. You’re a fantastic human being. An offspring of the Mother and Father and the wisdom of the Smith. But how do you explain the inevitable revolt?” Maribelle challenged Petyr again.

“The foundries built across the streams and rivers leading to Runestone have been pumping out castle-grade steel.” Petyr looked gratefully at Naerys. “And due to Naerys’ wise prescience, loans were given out to armoursmiths and swordsmiths which will allow them to hire more apprentices. The output of war materiels will outstrip any isolated lordlings.”

“Yes. Yes. We have weapons galore.” She rolled her eyes. “But we also need the people capable of using them!”

“’We’. It’s good to know we have your cooperation.”

“Shut up! Answer my question!”

“According to the census, Gulltown’s population is 55,000. We just need to conscript five per cent of that number then we’ll be looking to numbers up to 2750 people. That doesn’t count the settlements around Gulltown. Due to the number of generous loans and the expertise we’ve given them, they should be loyal. Even in the worst-case scenarios – our numbers should be around 4000.”

“How about the logistics?”

“It’s fortunate we have the backing of House Vantery. I heard your family are the prime exporters and importers of foodstuff.” Petyr cheekily added in.

“Since when did we support you?”

“Well… Ever since your brother Orland suggested that I marry you.” Petyr lied. Orland hasn’t said anything about Maribelle’s hand in marriage, but he needed Maribelle to think her marriage to him was a done deal. However, he felt guilty about exploiting the male-dominated patriarchy of this world. Thankfully, Orland is quite progressive in his views about women’s role in society.

Maribelle sputtered at that before composing herself. “I- I… I can’t believe he did it. How much of an oaf is he!?” She cleared her throat before glaring at Petyr. “Fine. I’ll marry you. But don’t expect me to be a trophy wife.”

“Of course not. We’ll be partners as we’ll shape Gulltown to our image of prosperity.”

“Hear! Hear!” Rydan cheered.

Naerys stared proudly at Petyr and clapped her hands.

“Wait! Before you give us your congratulations. Let me finish. This revolt will be noticed by the Hand of the King. A cousin of Isembard Arryn. He’ll side with him out of familial honour.”

Petyr smirked at her before giving her the scroll. “It seems my future wife has to polish up her skills as my spymistress. Please read it aloud.”

“Lysa Arryn nee Tully, in her journey to King’s Landing, has disappeared.”

Everyone looked shocked except for Petyr which made Maribelle suspicious. “Don’t tell me you…”

“NO! She’s my sister in all but blood. I would never.” He really tried not to shiver in disgust at that. He had sex with her and for all purposes, should be pregnant. By the time he left for Baelish Keep, she was getting morning sickness. It’s been more than five months yet there were no letters confirming her birthing a baby. He shook the thought out of his mind. “As much as I want to leave Gulltown, right now, to find her. But I have a duty towards the city. And a duty towards Lord Grafton. I have to trust in the Hand of the King to find his wife and my friend.”

Rydan nodded and huffed in approval then stood up and placed his calloused hands on Petyr’s shoulder. “If the second most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms cannae find her then no one can. But right now we have a war to win.”

Maribelle sighed in exasperation. “But why are we doing this behind Lord Grafton’s back?”

“Just in case we lose. We’ll get the blame for misleading him.” Petyr deadpanned.

“Excuse me what!” She ground her teeth. “Why are both of you preparing for war anyways. There’s a high chance Isembard wouldn’t get a word of this.”

“Maester Stephas is a spy for Isembard.” Petyr deadpanned again.

“Can you be more serious? I’m starting to get annoyed.”

Rydan closed his eyes and sorrowfully crossed his arms. “Petyr is serious. And the reason why we ‘aven’t killed him off is because he seems to love Gerry. He’s been by his side since he was a babe. Ye can’t fake love fer that long. There must be a reason for his treason.”

“Well, he’s inadvertently causing the castration of the Gulltown Arryns. After this, Grafton will have supremacy over the city.” Petyr confidently said earning a grunt from Rydan.

“Yes… Yes… Grafton will have supremacy over the city…”

I’ll have to get used to her sarcasm.