Chapter 7
King's Landing, 281 A.C., The morning after…
I woke up with a mild headache and a dry mouth at the hour of the robin, or what my old world would call 8am. After tea and breakfast, I made my way to the Wayfinders Guild, its guildhall located where the dockyards meet Flea Bottom. The scars of the sack still visible even weeks later with the burnt-out buildings being repaired, or in the worse cases, torn down to be rebuilt entirely and beggars on the street. I couldn't decide if a fire breaking out in Flea Bottom during the sack without setting off the hundreds of barrels of wyldfire placed underneath the city was a divine act of the gods of this world or George's writing… probably the latter.
I left the guildhall at the hour of the bull (2pm) after inspecting the first backstaff produced by the guild with Dagwell and the guild master Vardis of Gulltown returned to the Red Keep. As I returned to my quarters, I noticed a few passersby glance at me and whisper to one another. I thought it strange but put it out of my mind as sat at the small desk in my room reading and responding to letters. I ate a small, late lunch as I read raven scroll from my mother that reported everything was running smoothly back home with the Sunset Fleet patrolling as normal and the sticky stone quarry near Flatmire was being expanded to meet the new demand. She also reported that the five galleys that started construction in the opening days of the war were nearing completion, too late to help. This was good news as it will bring the Sunset Fleet's numbers to thirty galleys. I was writing a response when I heard a knock at the door. When I asked who it was, Wyman burst through the doors with an excited look.
"Ah, there you are cousin, I've looking all over for you. Where were you?" he asked.
"I was at the guild, had to make sure they got the backstaff right." I respond casually as I take a bit of my lunch, a ham and cheese sandwich, or at least the closest thing in Westeros to one. The servant and kitchen staff did the best they could with my directions and the result, a slightly charcoaled breadroll sliced in half with mustard spread on both sides with thick-sliced smoked ham and some weird Feta-type cheese. It was surprisingly good.
"Cousin, you don't to look over their shoulders everyday like some sort of nanny." He rolled his eyes before they landed on my meal. "What's that?"
"Something I had the kitchen whip up. Wanna bite?" I tear the reminder of my sandwich in two and hand one piece to Wyman. He pops it into his mouth, chews it slowly before his eyes widen slightly as he swallows. "That was good! What is it?"
"A ham and cheese…" I almost said "sandwich" but that name wouldn't make sense in Westeros because there is no Earl or town of Sandwich in this world. "…toasty?" I improvise.
"Toasty?" he parrots back, saying it slowly as if tasting the word, before mumbling "I'll have to get the servants to make me one."
"So, what have you been up to today?" I ask.
He shrugged. "Woke up late, broke my fast, then searched the Red Keep for you because I have something to ask you. I was talking with Lord Slate last night about a potential betrothal to his daughter Elsa-"
"And you want my blessing as your lord and head of family." I finish and he nods. "No worries, cousin, you have my blessing. She will make a good wife, that and I know you've been sweet on her for years." I say the last part with a grin as he blushes. "So, when will we announce the betrothal?"
"Not until the Starks return at the earliest. But what about you? When are you gonna announce your betrothal?" He smirks.
"What betrothal?" I ask, confused.
"With the lioness!" He responds eagerly and I just continue looking at him confused.
"What are you talking about? Lady Cersei's betrothed to Prince Stannis." I say but he shakes his head and laughs.
"No, the other lioness, Myrra. I heard half the Red Keep gossiping about you two when I was searching for you!"
"Wait what!?" I say panicked. "What are they saying?"
"They speak of the Black Wolf dancing with the fair Lioness of Lannisport and sweeping her off feet, flustered and swooning." He says dramatically.
"We just danced and talked, I wouldn't say she was swooning." I respond matter-of-factly.
"Hugo. You danced with her twice for a dozen songs. In front of everyone." He said, emphasizing the words "twice" and "dozen". It took a second for Hugo's memories of dance etiquette to surface and suddenly it clicked. In Westerosi highborn society, the general rule of thumb was that you only danced with a lady once per feast/festival/etc. (unless they were your betrothed, wife, or family) for up to five songs. The fact I danced with her twice for twelve songs and then went off to the side to continue our conversation could be considered a major scandal.
But I was just trying to get away from that annoying Frey girl. Fuck! That explains why she blushed heavily when I asked her to dance the second time. I thought to myself.
"Pft! No! It wasn't a dozen songs, it was five…six songs?" I said unsure.
"No, it was a dozen. You probably don't remember cause you were too busy staring into her eyes and talking about the Ghiscari for some reason." He answered with a deadpan voice.
"Oh That? We were debating whether the Valyrians could have defeated the Ghiscari without dragons." I remembered fondly and Wyman gives me a weird look. "What?"
He laughs "You two really are made for each other."
"How bad is the gossip?" I ask with a sigh.
"Not too bad. Most of the gossip is about how you two looked like a couple straight out of a song. I heard the King even made a jape about you two looking like lovebirds during court." I groan and put my face in my hands while my cousin continues. "A few Westermen were grumbling about you 'hogging her' and I was asked by three Crownland lords when and where the wedding was taking place."
"What does Lord Tywin think of all this?" I inquire, dreading the answer.
"Nothing as far as I've heard, the Westermen I was talking about were from minor houses. So, are you gonna seek a betrothal?" My cousin asks eagerly.
"I…do like her…" I start slowly before Wyman interrupts.
"What? Don't have a thing for blondes?" He says with a chuckle.
"Oh no! She's witty, intelligent and smoking hot." I respond quickly.
It helps that she's got Cersei's looks with none of her insanity or arrogance. I thought to myself as I ignored Wyman's raised eyebrow at the phrase "smoking hot" and continue.
"She would get us a profitable alliance with Lannisport and potentially Casterly Rock, it's just…" I trail off. Do I want to ally myself with Tywin?
"Just what cousin?" Wyman inquires.
"Lord Tywin could be a problem." I state flatly.
"You don't think he'd approve? I think you're selling yourself short cousin, you-" I cut him off.
"What? No! I'm reasonably sure I can convince him to let me marry Myrra. It's the alliance with him that could be the issue."
He looks confused. "How!? It would increase trade with Lannisport from the small amount we already do and we can use their fleet to help with the Ironborn!"
I sigh "Oh I know, and it's for those reasons and the fact I like Myrra that I'm leaning towards a betrothal. The one thing holding me back is that Tywin is..." I struggle to find the words to explain how we would be at war with them in the future only to remember all butterflies I had directly or (mostly) indirectly caused. Now that I think about it. The War of the Five Kings probably won't happen or if it does, it'll be completely different from canon so I may not have to fight Tywin. The Ironborn are definitely going to rebel, so I will have to fight them.
I'm brought back by Wyman finishing my sentence with a grimace. "Ruthless… Aye, I don't like that he ordered the deaths of the princess and her children."
"And neither does Lord Stark, he might be displeased if we build closer ties to Lannisters. Not to mention the Martells." I say grimly while weighing the pros and cons of a marriage to Myrra.
"But Ser Clegane and Ser Lorch were handed over to the Martells!" Wyman comments, slightly confused.
"Aye. But they know who gave them orders. Their bloodlust may be sated, but they'll still hold a grudge against House Lannister." I answer absentmindedly, still considering my options before a memory of last night flashed before my eyes. Myrra covering her mouth with her hand as she quietly giggled at a quip I made about Lady Bracken's dress making her look like a banana. Her eyes shining in the torchlight like emeralds…
"Is it worth potentially displeasing Lord Stark?" My cousin finally asked after a moment.
"At worse it'll only be temporary…" I pause before finally coming to a decision. "Besides, Lord Stark doesn't have the authority to dictate who I can or can't marry." I say the last part with a grin.
"So, you'll seek a betrothal with Lady Myrra?" Wyman asks eagerly.
"Aye. I'll ask her father Lord Harrold for her hand tomorrow." Feeling a metaphorical weight lift off my shoulders with my decision finally made, I change the subject. "Anything else interesting happen last night? I… didn't see much."
Wyman snorts. "Distracted with your lioness no doubt. But not much, Prince Stannis and Lady Cersei danced for a few songs but looked rigid and awkward, something everyone seemed to noticed when they were dancing next to you two lost in your own little world."
I laugh, remembering when I briefly saw them dancing, both stiff as boards and looking like they wanted to be anywhere else.
"People are also whispering about you dancing with Lady Cersei and how she looked more at ease with you than her betrothed." My cousin says giving me a curious look while I look at him like he grew a second head.
"What!? What are you talking about? I danced with her for two songs and we basically spent the whole time subtly insulting one another!" I exclaim, remembering how I tried to break off from her after the first song but she dug her fingernails into me and kept me for another song just so she could get the last word.
She was pissed when I asked about Jaime's reaction to her betrothal. I thought with a silent chuckle.
"Apparently you and Prince Stannis were the only ones she danced with for more than one song the entire feast." Wyman says with a shrug to my surprise before snaping his fingers. "Oh right! I almost forgot! The Frey lady you were dancing with was caught with some Rosby knight fucking in the gardens later that night, but other than that, not much happened."
Our conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door. Wyman went to open it to find a man in red and gold outfit holding a scroll who cleared his throat. "Greetings, are you Lord Seastark?" The blonde-haired man asked Wyman.
"Oh no! I'm his cousin Wyman Seastark. He's right there." My cousin responds before stepping out of the mans way and gesturing to me sitting at my desk. The man nods and walks up to my desk and I noticed a golden lion on his upper right chest area on his tunic. Must be a messenger. I thought to myself.
"Greetings Lord Seastark. I come bearing a message from my Lord Tywin Lannister, formally inviting you to dine with him and House Lannister of Lannisport in his quarters tonight." The man speaks in a stiff, formal tone as he hands me the scroll. I quickly skim through the flowery words of invitation and analyze details like the time and dress code.
I look up and smile at the messenger. "Tell Lord Tywin I would be happy to attend." The man simply nods, bids me and my cousin a good day and exits the room, leaving me with the scroll.
"Well cousin, slight change of plans. Looks like I'm getting that betrothal tonight." I say with a grin and Wyman laughs.