Chapter 24: The Queen's Steward
In the Red Keep, within the Queen's chambers, white curtains embroidered with gold thread swayed in the gentle breeze.
Cersei Lannister lay in a golden bathtub, her shoulders exposed above the water. Droplets on her collarbone glistened where the sunlight struck them.
*Splash.*
Jaime did not hide his footsteps, appearing openly in Cersei's line of sight.
Queen Cersei stirred her silken golden hair, the picture of charm. "Brother and little brother, has the heartwarming chat between brothers finally deigned to end?"
Jaime frowned slightly. "Cersei, he was worried about you too. You should be grateful to him."
Jaime didn't say the name Tyrion in front of Cersei, vaguely using "he" as a substitute.
Cersei scoffed mockingly, "I am the Old Lion's daughter, the Queen! You two are so self-righteous. I have my own judgment. I don't need others to tell me what to do. You two are only fit to obey!"
*Splash.*
Cersei rose from the tub, tilting her chin slightly as she stared at Jaime.
Jaime sighed inwardly, not wanting to continue an argument they'd had countless times. He reached out, picked up a wine-red robe, and walked over to help Cersei put it on.
Only then did Cersei curl her lips in satisfaction. She walked barefoot to the side, picked up a wine glass, and took a sip of red wine.
Cersei held her wine glass elegantly, her beautiful eyes seeming to glow. "That waste of space, did he find out anything of value?"
Jaime spread his hands. "It's not bad. Worth recruiting."
Cersei scoffed again. "Hmph, for this little piece of intelligence, you two talked for so long. I truly worry for the future of House Lannister. You two are too slow. I already knew about this from a letter from Baron Glyn. It even wasted so much of my time."
Not even death could make Jaime convey Tyrion's original words to Cersei; things would only get worse.
Out of his knightly honor, Jaime also didn't want to maliciously slander others. At this moment, saying "it's not bad" was already the highest praise he could offer.
Jaime shrugged. "Should I arrange a meeting right away?"
Cersei said, a little angry, "Jaime!"
"Alright, I haven't forgotten, I haven't forgotten. You reminded me that everything must be done properly and legitimately. I'll go see if there's a suitable position for him in the Red Keep first."
"It was originally a very simple meeting, but you listened to someone's slander and insisted on getting involved. Now I have to go to the trouble of changing it to another way of meeting. I am only tolerating this because of you, Jaime!"
…
…
King's Landing, Hook Harbor, Glyn's Study.
More than a week had passed since Glyn left The Whispers. Today, a raven from Herschel delivered the first brief report from the Cleber Lands.
A 30-man squad from the Thorn Corps was ambushed one night by a small band of Wildlings while on a solo mission, suffering 23 casualties.
Putting down the letter, Glyn rubbed his temples.
Glyn didn't have to worry about everything. Since such casualties had occurred, Glyn believed the veteran Ser Pell would make timely adjustments.
It wasn't just the Thorn Corps; all the longbowmen, due to a lack of resources in the Cleber Lands, had not been properly equipped with melee weapons.
What Glyn favored most was a short sword with a blade length not exceeding 50cm and a width not exceeding 5cm, designed primarily for thrusting and secondarily for slashing.
This kind of short sword was light and convenient, not significantly affecting the longbowmen's archery or marching. Its melee power was also not weak, allowing them to effectively deal with close-combat threats.
A lack of coin.
Currently, House Cleber was killing the Mountain Clansmen on one hand, while absorbing them on the other. It sustained its development by plundering the Mountain Clansmen.
Without any other points of growth, the development speed of House Cleber was like a fully drawn longbow—already at its limit and with a time limit. It was unsustainable.
The number of longbowmen was also increasing in tandem.
The income from Mermaid Port was, in the short term, barely enough to maintain the port's operations. Relying solely on the territory's normal income, without affecting the equipping of other weapons, it would take at least two years to barely equip every longbowman with a short sword.
…
Surana pushed the door open and entered, greeting Glyn with a bow. "My lord, this was just delivered by someone from the Red Keep. You have been appointed as the Queen's Steward and are ordered to report to the Red Keep tomorrow morning to assume your duties."
The Queen's Steward?
For some reason, Glyn's mind immediately jumped to "eunuch."
With a strange expression, Glyn took the letter of appointment from Surana.
What were the specific duties of the Queen's Steward? The appointment letter didn't say. Glyn did, however, notice the salary: 2 million Gold Dragons a year.
Glyn rubbed his chin. Could he perhaps request a 10-year advance on his salary for emergencies?
*(Author's Note: Apologies, something came up today and caused a delay. This is all for now. The outline is getting smoother, so in a few days, I should be able to do two chapters a day.)*
(end of chapter)