Dany sighed as she considered yet another claim. This from a Pentoshi Magister, resident in Kings Landing, whose warehouse had been destroyed in the fighting. Two days after the capture of Kings Landing, she was inundated with petitions and claims. She worked in a small chamber, with her scribes, behind the Kings Door. She slept on a camp bed in an even tinier chamber adjoining it. Tyrion, Varys, and Lord Baelish worked in the Great Hall, taking decisions themselves, but referring the most important to her. Hundreds of people were waiting their turn in the Hall, and in the courtyard outside. How she longed for Missandei to help her! Once more, she felt a wave of guilt for her murder. Never again would she see the woman she had loved more than anyone in the world. She had planned to tour the city, but her advisors had persuaded her that the survivors might try to murder her, so she remained in the Red Keep. Fires still smouldered, although the worst of the burning was over. Perhaps two thirds of the city had been destroyed. Most of her soldiers had been withdrawn from the city, although more than five thousand remained stationed in the Palace. It had been thoroughly looted, but at least her men had not destroyed it; they knew she intended to live there. She had given orders for the population to be fed and housed. But, it would be weeks before they could seriously tackle these problems. She had no choice but to segregate the victims of the Pale Mare, most of whom would die. She could do nothing for them.
She heard a commotion, outside the door of her chamber. There was a knock, and Tyrion entered. "Your Grace, you should attend this. It is extremely important". She rose, and left with him. She ascended the Iron Throne. And, there, kneeling before her, was none other than Margaery Tyrell, surrounded by her guards. Another woman held a babe. Set aside, were half a dozen grinning soldiers.
Margaery raised her head to speak. She sported a black eye, and other bruises, and her dress was torn, but, even on her knees, she still spoke proudly. "Your Grace. I seek mercy, not for myself, but for my child, Joanna, and my cousin, Lady Elinore. They are innocent of any crimes against you. As for me, I submit to your Grace's judgement." She felt a sudden stab of pity for the woman, even now. The rest of the family were missing. Perhaps dead, perhaps in hiding. She did not have it in her heart to hate Margaery, who might have been her friend.
"I will not punish an infant girl for the sins of her parents. I have no quarrel with Lady Elinore. Their lives are not forfeit." She saw the relief on Margaery's face. "As for you, Lady Margaery, I will not make a decision in haste. Lord Tyrion, please arrange for them to be accommodated in the Maidenvault. I wish them to be closely guarded, but to be treated with courtesy."
Her Hand visibly relaxed. Had he expected her to butcher them on the spot? He led them out, with a small detachment of guards. "Your Grace!" cried a man. "We brought you the whore and her brat. We claim our reward."
"Who are you?"
"Her bodyguards" he answered, smirking. "But, we were always on the side of the true Queen."
"I see. Did you swear fealty to the Lady Margaery?"
"We did, your Grace. But, we never meant it".
"You never meant it". She gave the man a hard stare, seeing his smile falter. "Well, I must reward you then. Zengi !" she called, as the man came forward with a score of his men. "Reward these men as traitors deserve." The Unsullied seized them, disarming them with ease. Their leader screamed "This is an outrage. We did you a favour!" Zengi struck him across the face.
"I shall do you a favour in return. You will not face the full horrors of a traitor's death. Behead these men, at once, Lord Prefect!" The Unsullied dragged them from the Hall.
"Your Grace, may I speak in private?" asked Lord Baelish. She descended from the throne, and gestured him to follow. Varys joined them in her chamber. "Surely, you cannot mean to spare Margaery Tyrell?"
"Nor her whelp" commented Varys. "Neither has to suffer unduly; a draft of poison, a pillow over the face, and the line of the Usurper is extinguished forever."
"Your Grace" said Littlefinger. "Thousands of people have died in this city. Perhaps tens of thousands. Why agonise over the fate of one traitor and her daughter?"
"For the same reason I agonise over the fate of your wife, Lord Baelish."
"My wife did nothing that your Grace did not do. Do you propose to punish her? That would scarcely be just."
"You misunderstand me, my lord. War brings out a darkness in all of us. Myself included. I have spoken to the Princess Sansa, and to other witnesses. She feels intense guilt for what she commanded. I worry for her state of mind. I worry that she may harm herself. You should worry about such things. I would like her to leave this city immediately, and seek rest and quiet a long way from here. Her sister concurs. And, she needs the comfort of her husband while she recovers."
"You promised to make me Master of Coin" he snapped.
"A loving husband should prioritise his wife above such considerations. But, I shall keep my promise. Appoint a deputy, to serve in your place. If and when your wife is recovered, then I shall appoint her to my Small Council if she wishes, or make her a Lady in Waiting. You may take up your position, then. Which do you love more, Lord Baelish? Sansa Stark or your office?" She fancied she saw a glint of satisfaction in Varys' eyes. He had, after all, made similar arguments to her, the previous day.
Baelish's face was a mask. "Of course, my dear wife's health must be my priority" he eventually said, between gritted teeth.
"Good, then that is settled. As to Lady Margaery, yes, I fear she must be put to death, but not in secret, and she must be treated with dignity. She is a lady of the highest rank. I think I shall allow her to choose the manner of her death. Or she may take her own life, before witnesses if she prefers. But I need time to consider the matter. And, let me make this clear. I will not take vengeance on her child. Never raise that subject with me, ever again! Either of you!"
Baelish and Varys bowed their heads in agreement, before leaving the chamber.
Notes:
The Kings Door is located behind the Iron Throne, and leads to a network of small chambers.