"The Lannisters have sent an answer, Your Grace," Grand Maester Elysar said with a bow and handed Aemon the letter.
It was one of Aemon's throne room exercises. He had to climb on the Iron Throne and sit there for an hour, to train for his future kingly duties. For now, it usually happened early in the morning or late in the evening, when no serious disputes or petitions were brought before the king and the only courtiers in attendance were his family and members of the small council whom he saw every day anyway, but they spoke to him as solemnly as they would to a grown-up king.
"You need to get used to sitting on the throne," Mother explained. "You can't look intimidated by it – it's made to intimidate everyone else."
Aemon was still working on that part. Every time he looked at the dreadful half-melted blades sticking from everywhere around him, his heart seemed to drop all the way to his stomach. He remembered that Great-Uncle Maegor was killed by the throne when one such blade pierced him. What if the throne decides I'm a bad king as well?
Trying not to look at the throne's swords, he smiled and took the Lannisters' letter:
"Thank you, Grand Maester."
"My king," Grand Maester bowed with such respect that it was hard to believe it was the same sharp-tongued teacher of his.
Aemon opened the letter. The scribble was small and sometimes very hard to read, but he determinedly read all the way to the end by himself. He had long learned his letters, and he would have hated to ask for Mother's help.
"The Lannisters say that they will help with the recritment," he said, hoping he had understood everything correctly. "Ser Tyler Hill, Lady Fenella, and Lord Tymond will be coming with... the recriting... party," he squeaked the last words half-heartedly because he saw Mother sadden and Lord Stark frown and knew he had made some mistake.
"That's excellent news, Your Grace!" Mother said, her face splitting into a smile. "Would you allow me to take a look at the letter, please?"
"Yes, my lady mother, of course," even when addressing her, he had to use all the courtesy he knew.
As she leaned closer to him to get the letter, she whispered:
"Recruitment, sweetheart, and you messed up the names a bit. All good otherwise."
Aemon wondered how he could have messed up the names. He had long learned the names of the Great Houses' members by heart. Even Tyler Hill was mentioned in history lessons: he helped Uncle Aegon and Aunt Rhaena fight against the evil Great-Uncle Maegor and even took wounds for them in battle.
"We must make their party welcome," he said, feeling he needed to comment on the letter somehow.
"Absolutely, my king!" said Septon Barth. "The small council will discuss the arrangements for receiving them immediately."
"Lord Tymond is a baby," Aemon continued. "Nurse My... Lady Hogg would help his mother care for him."
"Yes, Your Grace," Nurse Myranda bowed.
Aemon wondered if he should continue with the minor orders he was able to give, but couldn't think up of anything more to say.
"That will be all about the matter of the recrrrr... uiting," he concluded lamely. At least he made sure to pronounce it right.
After he was finally allowed to leave the throne, Mother explained to him:
"You didn't get the order of names correctly: Lord Tymond is the Lannister heir, so he is always mentioned first, then his mother, and then Ser Tyler, because he is a bastard. If any Lannister man had been present now, they would have been very insulted."
"But Lady Turnberry wasn't," said Aemon, "and she is from the westerlands."
"Lady Aspen knows you since you were born, and she is aware that you're just training. But any visitors must see you as a proper king, no matter whether you're six or fifty-six."
Fifty-six! Aemon thought. That's so horribly old!
"Your father was only eight years older than you when he began to rule," Mother added. "Time goes by much faster than you think."
Aemon didn't quite agree with that. The hour he spent sitting on the Iron Throne always crawled so slowly that it seemed an entire year. In such moments, he quite envied Baelon – who had thirty-minute-long court exercises in the throne room, but at least wasn't forced to sit on this monstrosity.
"Will I have to receive the Lannisters on the Iron Throne too?" he asked miserably.
"Yes," Lord Stark said, and Aemon's heart fell. He had so much hoped for a reprieve. "It's the first time they will be coming for a prolonged stay in King's Landing. You need to be respectful."
Mother looked at Lord Stark in the "silly way", as Aemon named it to himself. It was when her face looked scolding but her eyes looked like she was making a joke – she had already used the "silly way" several times. Aemon didn't understand it, nor did he understand why Lord Stark gave her a small smile in return. Was she angry or was she being cheerful?
Aemon gave up on understanding the nature of the grown people.
"May I be excused, please?" he asked. "Baelon and I wanted to play."
Lord Stark and Mother exchanged glances.
"Yes, you may," Mother smiled at last. "We will be writing a reply to the Lannisters about building a new place for learning in Lannisport."
They had already explained to him their latest idea: many places like the Citadel across the kingdoms. Aemon supposed it would be nice: if Baelon, for example, decided to study arts and sciences, he wouldn't have to go all the way to Oldtown if they had their own center of learning in King's Landing.
Anyway, right now the important thing was that Aemon could finally leave the stuffy throne room and the horrid throne behind... for a few hours or, if he was lucky, days.
"Thank you!" he grinned back and hugged them both. He had at first been wary about hugging Lord Stark, but had grown used to it now – though his stepfather was stern and didn't smile too frequently, in general, as Aemon had realized, he was a lot nicer than he seemed at first glance.
"Now they want to replicate the Citadel!" Tommen Lannister exclaimed as he read the reply from King's Landing. Queen Alysanne and Lord Alaric were ready to welcome Tymond, Fenella, and Tyler, that part of the letter was clear enough, but it was followed by details on another newest project of the royals. "Whatever for?"
"Apparently, so that more people could get opportunities to study," Tyler said. He, on his side, felt pretty supportive of the idea: he was lucky to have a good relationship with the trueborn side of his family, so he would have been able to attend the Citadel had he wanted to, but many other bastards, not to mention commoners, couldn't afford to go to Oldtown.
"It will cost us far too much," Fenella said, pursing her lips.
"The costs we can manage. I'm thinking more of the Hightowers' reaction."
"Well, if they are suggesting it at all, clearly they have thought about the Hightowers! There are rumors the king will be betrothed to Milane, so their families are obviously in agreement."
"Rumors," Tommen said angrily, "are rumors, nothing more. The kingdoms had grown withdrawn during the Shivers, and we need to reestablish peaceful relations..."
Inwardly, Tyler groaned, already aware what was coming next. He had hoped to get through this discussion without a quarrel – as they thought, the letter would only be a short answer about welcoming their arrival! – but recently, Lord and Lady Lannister's presence in the same room was about as safe as a pile of oil-soaked wool next to a fire. Was his trueborn brother seeking a fight on purpose? One had to be blind, deaf and simple-minded at the same time to fail to notice how disrespectful he was being towards his wife...
"So that's the only thing you remember about the Shivers?" Fenella screamed. "Do you ever care for anything other than politics and food?"
She burst into tears. Tyler moved to comfort her, but she glared at him:
"Keep your paws off me, bastard!"
"Forgive me, my lady," he stepped back. He didn't have any lustful intentions now, he truly didn't, only wanting to help her calm down – but after the way he treated her early in her marriage, it was clear she didn't trust him.
Well, maybe she was right in doing so, he thought sadly. Even though he had long stopped flirting with her openly, her image still haunted his dreams, and seeing her so miserable broke his heart. If only he had been more respectful earlier! She could have sought comfort from him now – Tommen had as good as given permission for that! – and Tyler would have been happy to make her feel loved again.
At least, his clumsy attempt to soothe her made things better in one respect: Tommen and Fenella stopped fighting each other.
"Ler, I thought we talked about this!" Tommen said sharply. "Either treat Lady Lannister with deference, or I'll seriously reconsider your position in the family!"
"Yes, Tommen, I am deeply sorry," Tyler said, taking another step away from them and bowing.
Tommen looked at him, frowning, for a while longer, then, probably deciding Tyler had learned the lesson for now, turned to Fenella again:
"Either way, we need to tell the queen we won't be building anything for now."
"Not unless we feel more secure with our standing at court," Fenella nodded, sniffing.
"We must wait until Lady Milane has at the very least arrived at court: the minor Hightowers flocking there at present don't have much say in anything."
"And we need to be sure of our own treasuries."
Tyler felt she was in the right: the Lannister treasuries were famous for their gold, but the gold depended on mines and the mines on miners, and the Shivers had hit the latter very hard. Disease spread only too easily in the mines' enclosed spaces.
They were in agreement about this "new Citadel" thing from the start! Tyler thought. Why did they have to quarrel despite there being nothing to quarrel about?
"As for the recruiting party, I've got it almost assembled," he said. "We can depart any moment starting from next week."
"Good," Tommen smiled, clearly relieved to move past the fight. "We'll need to get some maesters and at least one septon to accompany you, too. Should it be Septon Aldesan?" Aldesan was the younger of the two septons serving at Casterly Rock.
"No," Fenella snapped, and Tommen cringed again.
To prevent another storm, Tyler quickly suggested:
"How about our Septon Beric? He is one of the City Watch's confessors anyway. And his mother's on the small council, I'm sure he'll be glad to visit her."
"But I thought he didn't like the Targaryens too much," Fenella said doubtfully. "Should we perhaps pick a safer companion?"
"He didn't like them before..." Tyler almost mentioned the Shivers but bit his tongue in time. "He has simply always been violently against Exceptionalism. Now that it's done with, I'm sure he doesn't have anything against the royals."
"Tommen Lannister has sent a letter with details on his son and wife's arrival," said Alaric, "but with just vague mentions of the building of a place for learning."
"Oh," that was rather discouraging. Alysanne had hoped the Lannisters wouldn't mind paying a part of their enormous riches for a chance to rival Oldtown in yet another respect. They were so proud of their Lannisport, after all, weren't they? She had in fact counted on them more than on the Manderlys. "Any news from the White Harbor?"
"Not yet, but there's lately been stormy weather to the north of Riverrun. Grand Maester has sent three ravens and will send more if there is no reply by the end of the month."
He put his arms around her and softly kissed her hair.
"Septon Barth's already got some plans for the Bookcrown," Alysanne murmured, putting her hands over his, "and is eager to discuss them at the next council meeting."
"I'm sure Theomore will approve the idea as well. He is very much a patron and supporter of studies and arts."
"But, darling, what if he refuses because it's too expensive?" she whispered, anxious. "If the Lannisters don't want to start the construction..."
"Theomore will ask for loans if needed," Alaric said, and she heard disapproval in his voice and turned around with a smile:
"You and he must have disagreed quite a lot."
"How in the world have you guessed?" Alaric chuckled. Instead of answering, she kissed him gently. She had received a warm and generous welcome at White Harbor, but it wasn't much different from the feasts that greeted her in other castles across Westeros. Alaric was cold to her at the start, but now that she had seen him past his icy armor, no other living man could compare to him.
"I think the Lannisters are just being cautious," he whispered between kisses (they were prolonged but mostly chaste – Alaric always said he didn't want to get passionate in the rooms where they worked). "The Citadel has been the only one in the kingdoms for so long nobody wants to change it."
"And they don't know our family too well," Alysanne agreed. "I haven't visited Casterly Rock yet... and it was rather a mistake on my part: they helped Rhaena against Maegor a lot..."
"Even on dragonback, you can't visit everyone at a time," Alaric assured her.
She wasn't quite in agreement with him here. In the North, progresses were less frequent simply by virtue of the weather: it was hard and costly to get from castle to castle through the snow. But a dragonrider like her had no such excuse.
"If we start the Bookcrown and Theomore starts on his part of the project too, the Lannisters will be convinced the idea has merit," he continued in the meantime. Alysanne hugged him tighter in response: in moments like this the feeling of being supported and supporting someone else was invaluable.
"Let's hope so," she said. "And we'll try to get little Tymond to stay at court for long. If he becomes an ally to Aemon, it would be wonderful."
"That won't be too hard, sweetest. I'm pretty sure Lord Tommen is sending his wife and son precisely because he wants the latter to settle down in King's Landing."
"If we have a boy, Tymond might be raised together with him."
She noticed Alaric looked a bit uncertain at the prospect: of course, especially after his journey to the Reach, he wasn't too fond of the southern ways, and the Lannisters were on par with the Tyrells and Hightowers when it came to opulence.
"Think of it this way," she suggested, "you may get a chance to teach them both to be careful with coin!"
"A Lannister careful with coin? I hope Casterly Rock doesn't crumble in astonishment."
By that point, Alysanne realized their embrace was steadily going beyond merely tender and comforting.
"I have promised to read to Aemon and Baelon tonight, but we still have about an hour before that," she whispered. "How about we use it for something other than talking of the Lannisters?"
She felt a little silly, constantly sneaking away with Alaric like a blushing bride and not a woman almost ten months into her second marriage, but the silliness weirdly only added to her delight. It had only been a short while since she finally admitted her love for Alaric, and what could she do if she needed to express it as often as possible? Besides, Alaric certainly didn't mind, and they retained enough sanity to make sure the children didn't notice.