When Alarra walked out of the wheelhouse, Alysanne was relieved to see the girl looked much more rested and healthy. However, she also quickly noticed that there was some anxiety in Alarra's eyes, and she kept slightly shaking her head, as if she wanted to look back but didn't dare to for some reason.

"Has everything been all right?" Alysanne asked Ser Joffrey when Alarra turned away to hug Aemon and Baelon.

"Yes, Your Grace," the knight nodded firmly. "Lady Stark was given a good welcome in Rosby."

"Was The Penance a success?" Alaric asked.

"It gathered huge crowds, especially as the town fair began, and a lot of money was made," was Ser Joffrey's prompt report. His own face didn't show any enthusiasm, but Alysanne knew that Ser Joffrey surpassed even her own husband in his dislike for frivolities. The Warrior's Sons may have been disbanded, but their Grand Captain still lived the same ascetic life the Faith Militant had advocated, watching every feast, ball or masque with complete indifference unless there was something suspicious going on. He even refused to compete in tourneys, "so as not to draw blood without reason", as he explained. He did own a set of elaborate tourney armor, but he only ever put it on for the seven holy days.

The news of The Penance's popularity, of course, was more than welcome, and Alysanne saw Alaric smile at her. After everything it had cost them to finance the troupes, it was nice that the coin was finally flowing back.

As soon as they got inside the Keep, Alarra turned to Alysanne:

"I need to talk to you both," she said in an urgent whisper.

So there was something bothering her just now!

"Yes, certainly, what is it?" Alysanne said. "Ser Joffrey, would you please take the boys to the training yard?"

"Immediately, Your Grace," the elderly knight bowed, but Aemon and Baelon, already thrilled about an unplanned fighting lesson, ran to the yard ahead of him.

As soon as the boys were out of earshot, Alarra shivered and said:

"There might be something off about the Sunflowers!"

"Why? What is it?" Alaric's hand quickly went towards the hilt of his sword.

"I was talking to Garnet – the Dornish girl who played the prince – and she let it slipped that one of their men, Caleotte, is sneaking out..." and Alarra told them why it seemed suspicious to her: for the Sunflowers, with their royal protection, there was no reason to go anywhere in secret.

Alysanne thought about it. Maybe there was an innocent explanation. Maybe, say, Caleotte was visiting a brothel but didn't want to ruin his image in the eyes of his devoted admirers from the audience.

Still, it was certainly weird, and in such matters, one could never be too careful.

"Jonquil," she said, "would you please watch Caleotte and find out what he is up to? I'll ask Lady Turnberry to have her spies keep an eye on him as well."

"Of course," Jonquil bowed. Usually her loyal sworn shield was at her side, keeping a constant look around, but occasionally Alysanne sent her to deal with minor spying matters as well. Quiet and stealthy, Jonquil could be nigh invisible, and without her distinctive red armor, rarely did anyone apart from the highest-ranked courtiers recognize her.

Besides, Alysanne trusted her more than she did Lady Turnberry. During the Shivers, the mistress of whisperers had locked herself up in her quarters, but Jonquil never left her post.

Alarra was now looking awkward:

"Perhaps there's nothing in it, really..."

"Alarra, better safe than sorry," said Alaric. "We aren't planning to travel anywhere, so we can spare Lady Darke for a few hours."

"Thank you," Alarra gave them all a small, embarrassed smile. "Um... what have I missed?"

"We're planning to build something like the Citadel," Alysanne told her excitedly. "Calling it the Bookcrown for now, but that may change... And we've approved the law against, well, people like Hugh from the Little Dragons."

"Good riddance!" Alarra agreed. "But what's wrong with the Citadel itself? Um... I mean, the building will be quite costly, won't it?" she looked at her father, and Alysanne smiled. Indeed, without knowing any details, anyone would be rather surprised by Alaric approving a grand project that was apparently completely superfluous to the realm.

"King's Landing might house the court, but Oldtown is the center of learning, arts and the new faith," Alaric explained. "We need to outshine it if we don't want the Reachmen to pull our strings."

"Oh," Alarra nodded, but Alysanne could see she didn't exactly see the point. Although she was brilliant with courtly duties, she only had a rudimentary understanding of large-scale politics – well, it was to be expected from a thirteen-year-old girl who on top of that would hardly ever inherit a title by herself.

"Alaric and I sadly can't have supper with you and the boys," Alysanne told her as they walked to the private quarters. "A meeting with Ser Redwyne the eldest."

"Some problem with the City Watch?"

"More like, the City Watch is one large problem," said Alaric. "We've only just started thinking of how to fix it."

"Come to think of it, it does seem to have fewer men than needed," Alarra recalled. "At Lord Rogar's leavetaking procession, I wanted to have the City Watch stand guard along his entire way through the city, but there weren't enough watchmen to do it. Lord Rogar had his own soldiers to keep the peace around him, naturally, so I didn't worry too much about it back then... but having our own Watch by his side would have been so much more orderly and symbolic."


Robert Redwyne didn't like his job. For that matter, he didn't have much love left for King's Landing in general either.

When he first came there with Father, Rick and Ry, almost twelve years ago now, everything looked a lot rosier. He was a green squire back then, eager to prove himself to the young king, and King's Landing, having recovered after the bloodbaths of Maegor, was thriving and basking in glory.

However, nine years later the Shivers came – well, they weren't anyone's fault, but Robert found the City Watch thrust upon him in the first year of the pestilence. Even then, when his chief priority was escaping the disease, he remembered how shocked he was. He was barely twenty – why couldn't Jaehaerys choose someone more experienced? Robert was many years younger than most of the men he was supposed to command.

Only later did he realize that it was no foolishness on Jaehaerys's part. No more, say, than the appointment of fifteen-year-old Lord Arryn to the small council was an impulsive act.

The Shivers took a larger toll among the older men. Working in the City Watch in particular involved combing the streets for unburied bodies, dealing with vandals, false healers, and simply men gone crazy with fear, and exposing oneself to all sorts of infection sources. Jaehaerys and Alysanne needed the City Watch to have at least a semblance of order – and they couldn't afford to let commanders die in rapid succession.

But the Shivers were now over, yet Robert was still stuck with his damned job.

Every criminal, from a serial murderer to a pickpocket stealing a copper penny, was his responsibility. Every drunken brawl that got out of control was something he answered for. Decorating streets before celebrations and cleaning them afterwards, guarding the city gates, or cutting down rabid dogs – everything was somehow a duty of the City Watch.

Robert was sure he knew more about the types of dirt in the streets than his father knew about ships and wineries.

After the Shivers passed, at least there were fewer corpses to deal with (and those thrown into the streets were usually knifed or bludgeoned by some other flesh-and-blood, not killed by sickness). However, now Queen Alysanne had taken it into her head to marry Alaric Stark of all people, and that man demanded the best results or the least possible wages. Many of Robert's (already not too numerous) men often simply refused to report for duty at all, figuring that they wouldn't be able to get Stark's approval anyway, so why even bother trying?

Alysanne wasn't much better. Oh, of course Robert could see why she was so adored by commons and nobles alike: always smiling, always polite, never raising her voice and more prone to forgiveness than to punishment. But it didn't change the fact that she was also fond of throwing one celebration after another, steadily overloading the Watch.

After the little king turns sixteen, she won't get to indulge herself in feasts and tourneys so often! Robert frequently thought to console himself somewhat. She'll become a mere Lady Stark, and good luck convincing Alaric to spend that much, especially in the North!

Today he was due to come for a royal audience after duty, and he tried to figure out what the matter was. Was there another upcoming celebration? But what could it be? The nearest holy day was Mother's Day in about a month and a half, but it was usually a relatively subdued affair: people traditionally tried to spend it at home, giving praise and thanks to all the mothers in their families. The queen's confinement was probably (and hopefully) about three moons away – plenty of time to prepare. What else could Alysanne want to celebrate? Alarra Stark's return from Rosby? Nonsense – Rosby is close by, and Lady Stark had only been gone for a few days.

As he handed over the command duty to Ser Weston Wendwater (captain of the River Gate and one of the few capable men jn the Watch), Robert wasn't too happy to go to the Red Keep. After a whole day of work, he preferred to just drink a few cups of ale, lie down and – for at least a few hours – forget about the brawls and Flea Bottom's rotten smell and the dirt.

This time, Lord Stark and the queen received him together, and Robert, previously half-asleep with exhaustion, instantly jerked back to reality. It was clearly no routine meeting.

"Ser Robert, we have decided that it's time for the City Watch to get reinforced," the queen said. "You have too few men, and it's hard for you to deal with King's Landing. Here we've got a decree concerning new recruitments."

Robert could barely believe his ears. Were they finally paying attention to the mess in the city streets?

Looked like they were.

"We need your advice on whom to send to recruit new watchmen," said Lord Stark. "Surely there must be men whom you can trust to do the job."

Robert's thoughts went to Ser Weston Wendwater and several others like him. If they went to pick recruits, they would certainly succeed, but... His heart fell, and he shook his head:

"I am sorry, my lord, Your Grace – there are such men in the Watch, but they are precious few. I can't spare them. Even if I send them all, they'll need at least a couple of months to comb through the crownlands, and we have Mother's Day and, forgive the familiarity, the birth of your child in the near future."

The queen sighed heavily.

"What would you suggest instead?" she asked.

"The Night's Watch could help, perhaps," Robert mused, after thinking for a while.

"The general opinion is that they'd scare people," Lord Stark said with obvious undertones of annoyance. "They'll think they're being drafted for the Wall."

"Then... um... my lord, perhaps the City Watch of Lannisport would lend assistance?"

"Lannisport?" Lord Stark's face darkened. Of course he was counting the probable costs already.

"Their recruiters are very skilled," Robert said hopefully. "We would have to pay them, but in return we would have many new watchmen we could be sure about."

"But what if they decide to weaken King's Landing and send us unworthy men?" Lord Stark asked, but the queen shook her head:

"They have every reason to keep our city safe and flourshing. Without King's Landing, Lannisport's trade with the east coast would take a crushing blow."

"House Redwyne can pay the recruiters," feeling a bit more sure of himself, Robert volunteered. "We can afford to, and I really, really need more men."

"That would be wonderful!" smiled Queen Alysanne, and Lord Stark's expression became considerably milder. "By the way," she handed him what he saw to be a copy of a royal decree – clearly the decree they were talking of, "we have also planned to raise a watchman's pay to sixty stags a month. You, of course, will be getting the triple amount."

"Thank you, Your Grace," this formal greeting wasn't nearly enough to express what he was now feeling: Robert was practically delirious with joy. He had spoken the truth about money: the Arbor was very rich (being an island, it was able to close its borders soon after getting word of the Shivers and only lost about twenty men), and Robert didn't have to worry about his own future. But getting paid thirty stags a month was almost offensive, and even with all of Arbor's wealth he wouldn't exactly afford to feed the entire City Watch (not to mention that most of the watchmen didn't deserve even the paltry wages they got from the Crown).

"We should write a letter to the Watch of Lannisport, then!" said the queen. "Tomorrow I'll have the Grand Maester send it."

Robert still wasn't used to how quickly things could get done in the royal court. His own father, before leaving the Arbor, was fond of musing on his decisions for weeks, but Queen Alysanne could decide to do something in the morning and get it done by the end of the day. Or vice versa, like in this case.

His own part in the letter was minimal – it was merely stated that House Redwyne would cover the costs of the recruiting. However, the queen insisted he stayed and checked even that little statement all over again, just to be completely sure.

By the time Robert left the Red Keep, the sun had long set. The streets were a bit muddy after today's rain, but it was nothing tomorrow's cleaning couldn't fix. Thinking of the endless possibilities that would open for him when he got lots of able men for the Watch, Robert went to bed without even drinking his customary ale.


"Well, that went better than I expected," said Alaric after the letter was ready and Ser Robert went away. "He does have an understanding of his responsibility."

"I'm sure he was trained to, being the heir to Arbor and everything."

"Believe me, darling, I've seen heirs who wouldn't know responsibility if they met it in the street."

Alysanne chuckled and stood up:

"All right, let's go check up on the children. The boys are probably in bed by now, though."

"I hope so, they have a lesson in the morning," Alaric said.

"What plans do you have for tomorrow, by the way?" she asked. She tried to sound nonchalant, but he could see that she was expecting his answer with bated breath.

Why, I wonder?

"Nothing specific. I thought we should talk over about starting on the Bookcrown – the place for it, and where to get the builders, and so on – and, of course, we'll get this letter sent. I also want to spend some time with Alarra – we could barely greet her today."

"Hopefully, we'll make amends for it tomorrow," Alysanne nodded. "Listen... besides all that, I'll need to talk to you – nothing urgent and no bad news, just... I want us to have at least a short while entirely to ourselves."

"Then we shall," Alaric assured her. He thought again about what she could want to speak about, but since it wasn't a piece of unwelcome news, he was already delighted at the idea of spending even "a short while" alone with Alysanne.

When they finally got to the children's quarters, they saw that the boys had indeed gone to sleep – Alarra was sitting in one of the small drawing-rooms and quietly playing a slow, gentle melody on the harp, and Septa Lyra was standing in the same room in the corner, praying silently with folded hands. As Alarra saw them, she smiled without speaking anything – probably didn't want to disturb Septa Lyra – and Alaric felt grateful that even in the bustling mess that was King's Landing, such quiet domestic moments next to one's family were still possible nevertheless.