"Duke Jon is going to die!" Gendry said, looking at the map on his desk.
Qyburn's face twisted slightly, and he shrugged. "For an old man who has been struggling to keep the country afloat, old Jon has lived quite a long life!"
"Jon's death wasn't just due to old age," Gendry said mysteriously, withholding the full truth. Jon was essentially ruined by Lady Lysa and Littlefinger — that wicked pair.
"Chaos in Westeros may be just around the corner!" Qyburn said with certainty. "For years, King Robert has been a womanizer and a drunkard. Queen Cersei is arrogant and power-hungry, and only old Jon has been keeping the kingdom from falling apart! Once the Hand of the King dies, the King will surely be disoriented, forced to find someone to clean up his mess and indulge his pleasures. He'll have no interest in us."
To be frank, Gendry harbored no ill will toward Lord Jon. Yet Jon Arryn, the architect of the Baratheon dynasty, had not solved the problems that plagued it — he merely delayed them.
There was no way around it; the new dynasty wasn't strong. The King was a drunkard and a womanizer. The Lannister queen was vicious and arrogant, expanding her influence in King's Landing, while the King's brothers could not be trusted.
"I believe the only person King Robert can still trust is Duke Eddard," the handsome man replied confidently.
"The wolves are on the other side of the Narrow Sea. Have you been keeping an eye on the political situation in Westeros?" Qyburn asked.
"The Narrow Sea isn't far, and the North is the homeland of wolves. We've been following news about House Stark."
Now, however, they had migrated across the sea to make a living. The Wolves, though of Northern blood, were no longer vassals of House Stark. When the Northerners marched south in revenge during the War of the Usurper, the Wolf Pack's then-commander did not order an advance.
"Very good," Gendry urged him to continue.
"At the heart of the War of the Usurpers were the deer, the eagle, the fish, and the wolf. Lord Eddard and King Robert were the adopted sons of Lord Jon Snow. Lord Horst married his two daughters to Lord Jon Snow and Lord Eddard Snow. Later, Lord Jon Snow arranged the marriage between the King and the Lannisters."
Now that Lord Jon Snow was dead and Lord Hoster ailing, Lord Tywin Lannister was the only other qualified candidate — yet King Robert wouldn't be so foolish as to allow the Lannisters to completely control King's Landing. There was also the harsh Stannis, but unfortunately, the King didn't trust his brother.
"With Lord Jon Snow dead, it seems the direwolves are about to enter the fray," Gendry said, sensing that the gears of fate were turning and that the Game of Thrones was about to begin.
"Let Westeros run wild! Otherwise, if we put pressure on them, these fragmented powers might reunite."
"With Lord Jon dead, our opportunity has arrived," the handsome man said, careful not to be misunderstood. "Not to wage war on the Iron Throne — but to attack Tyroth."
"This is a good opportunity. Tyrosh still counts on the support of Rhys, Valanthi, and the Iron Throne." The Wolf Pack's fleet had traveled from the Stepstone Islands to Milford Sound. As a major island in the Stepstones, Tyrosh must also be subdued.
"Telosi, return some of the fleeing Mil warships and the governor to us! Otherwise, this will be the start of war!"
"King's Landing is certainly in chaos because of the Prime Minister's death," Gendry continued. "But will Pentos, Reese, and Valentis intervene? And what about mighty Braavos?"
"Braavos opposes slavery; Reese and Valantis are slow to act and indecisive. Pentos has wealth but no manpower. The window of opportunity is brief!"
The fleet across the Narrow Sea would not arrive in time; Gendry anticipated the pressure from their expansion toward Tyrosh.
"We need to meet with envoys from all sides and stall them!" he ordered.
---
In the Red Keep's throne room, the coffin of Jon Arryn lay in state. He was about eighty years old, perhaps the oldest Prime Minister in memory.
Four white knights stood on either side of the coffin — an honor befitting his service — though the old man could no longer see it.
Jon Snow had blue eyes, blond hair, and a hooked nose, though he had lost most of his teeth; half were gone when he married Lysa Tully. The death of this elderly man, who had greatly contributed to the founding of the Baratheon dynasty, was a tremendous blow to the King and the realm.
Before his death, Lord Jon Snow had kept calling "Robert," repeating to his wife, Lysa Tully, and King Robert, "The race is strong." His words soon slurred, and by the next morning, he was dead.
"My dear foster father, I wish you could come back to life! We used to chat and drink together. Perhaps I should have spent more time with you," King Robert murmured over his foster father's corpse.
"Robert! Robert! Jon's last words were about my Robin, Your Majesty!" Lady Lysa cried frantically to the King. "He will grow up healthy and inherit the Eyrie!"
"My lady, your beloved Robin is destined to inherit the Eyrie. I think it would be better for him to go to the Westerlands and become Tywin Lannister's adopted son," Robert suggested. "Tywin Lannister has never adopted a son before. You should feel honored."
"My dear Robin can't leave me! Nobody can take him from me!" Lysa shrieked, her hysteria ruining the King's mood. "King's Landing is full of evil people! They killed my Jon!"
Crazy woman! Robert thought bitterly. Jon died because he couldn't bear it anymore.
"The remnants of the true dragon across the Narrow Sea, the question of the Hand of the King… God, how I wish you could return to help your poor adopted son!" Robert sighed, staring at Jon's lifeless face.
"Your Majesty," Varys said in his sweet, careful tone, "though the loss of Lord Jon is grievous, the most pressing matter is to appoint a new Hand of the King."
"Yes… yes, that is crucial!" Robert agreed. He had long neglected the council, relying entirely on Jon Snow, ruling in name only. Now, he had to make decisions himself.
But choosing a Hand was no simple matter — too much power was at stake, and loyalty was rare. His relationship with Stannis was strained, Hoster Tully was ill, Doran Martell was an enemy, and Tywin Lannister was far too arrogant.
"Eddard…" Robert muttered, recalling his youth in the Eyrie — the only time he truly trusted someone. He wanted Eddard to govern the realm and command armies, while he himself would return to drinking and pleasure.
"Your Majesty," came a soft voice. Robert turned to see the blonde woman in red — Queen Cersei. Her relationship with Jon Snow had been distant, so her sudden visit was unexpected.
"I've come to mourn the passing of the Prime Minister," Cersei said smoothly. "The realm is in crisis, and you need a strong, loyal Hand of the King. My father, Lord Tywin, is capable and utterly devoted to the realm."
"Enough, woman!" Robert roared. "I am the King! I'll make my own choices! When I take up my warhammer again, I'll win everything!"
"Very well!" Cersei snapped. "The trouble you're in — caused by your bastards and the remnants of the Targaryens — you can deal with it yourself!"
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