July, 285 AC. The Seven Kingdoms were peaceful and calm.
Seven was an incredibly lucky and sacred number in Westeros: Seven Kingdoms, Seven Kingsguard, Seven Small Council members, trials by seven. The culture had an obsession with the number seven, much like how people in the East revere 8 and 9.
This July, the realm was dominated by two massive pieces of news, both regarding the royal House Baratheon.
First, Robert Baratheon was officially naming his youngest brother, the eight-year-old Renly, as the Lord of Storm's End. Renly would be granted full control of the ancestral seat, commanding the incomes, taxes, and absolute loyalty of the Stormlands.
Second, Queen Cersei Lannister officially announced her pregnancy. The realm finally had hope for a royal heir.
The release of these two pieces of news painted a picture of a Baratheon dynasty rapidly stabilizing and flourishing.
As for the remnants of the fallen Targaryen dynasty currently living in the house with the red door in Braavos?
Nobody really cared if they lived or died, and certainly no one was investing in them.
Acting on his archaic sense of "chivalry," Hand of the King Jon Arryn had firmly vetoed any proposals to send assassins after the children. Robert, despite his hatred, ultimately let the matter drop.
In other news, Jon Arryn had recently promoted an obscure customs officer named Petyr Baelish in Gulltown. Baelish had proven wildly successful at increasing tax revenues. Recognizing the man's undeniable financial talent—and constantly pressured by his wife, Lysa Tully's pillow talk—Arryn was seriously considering moving "Littlefinger" up the ladder.
With Renly elevated to Lord Paramount and Cersei pregnant, the gears of Westerosi history officially began to turn.
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Greenhand Manor, the Carefree Lodge.
Arthur held a piece of parchment in his hand. When the capital threw a massive celebration, the lords of the realm were absolutely expected to show up and bleed gold.
Whether it was a royal wedding, a birth, a coronation, or a prince's nameday, the nobility had to travel to King's Landing, attend the ceremonies, and present lavish gifts. It was a standard method for the crown to simultaneously flex its absolute authority and rake in massive revenue.
Naturally, the defeated Royalist lords had to show up, smile the widest, and bow the lowest.
After reading the royal summons, Arthur handed the letter to Ser Lucas.
On the wall of the lodge, the magnificent Myrish tapestry of Westeros seemed to glow in the light.
Looking at the map, the Crownlands and the Stormlands should logically function as a single, unified power bloc.
The "Crownlands" wasn't even a historical geographic entity; it was a carved-up zone of perpetual dispute.
Furthermore, the Stormlands were dangerously close to the Crownlands. If the Stormlords ever decided to cause trouble, they could march on the capital incredibly fast.
The Crownlands possessed wealth, but their knights were generally considered soft. The Stormlands were relatively poor, but their soldiers were notoriously tough, boasting some of the most ferocious shock cavalry in the Seven Kingdoms.
By officially severing the Stormlands from the Iron Throne and handing it away, King Robert was proving himself to be unprecedentedly "generous."
When Aegon the Conqueror gave Storm's End to Orys Baratheon, Orys had at least earned it through massive military conquests. Plus, he was Aegon's bastard brother and his absolute closest confidant.
When it came to Renly? Well, the King just really loves his little brother.
"This is an absolute farce. An eight-year-old Lord Paramount of the Stormlands? And it's not a temporary regency; he's granting it in perpetuity," Ser Lucas Dayne said, his brow furrowed in deep disapproval. "The Queen is already pregnant. To give away the family's ancestral power base to a younger brother—the youngest brother, no less—is madness."
Right now, no one knew the child Cersei carried was actually a purebred Lannister lion. To the lords of the realm, the biggest threat to the unborn royal heir's future stability was suddenly Renly.
It was an act of pure, capricious executive power. King Robert simply did whatever he wanted.
Robert was incredibly fertile; he had already sired a bastard daughter in the Vale before the rebellion even started. He was never going to lack for heirs.
On paper, with Cersei pregnant, there was absolutely no reason to rush this decision.
Ser Lucas wasn't the only one baffled. Across the Seven Kingdoms, the political brains of countless lords were likely short-circuiting as they tried to comprehend the move. Is he seriously playing the game like this?
Most lords guarded every single inch of their territory with their lives. They lusted after their neighbors' lands, but giving away their own? Unheard of.
The Seven Kingdoms were packed with landless second sons and hedge knights. Renly was a third son.
Yet, with a single wave of his hand, Robert had elevated a literal child into a Great Lord with power rivaling the Starks or the Lannisters.
No wonder Stannis Baratheon was perpetually consumed by bitter resentment. He had held Storm's End through a brutal starvation siege, only to be handed the miserable, barren rock of Dragonstone, while Renly literally slept his way into inheriting the absolute powerhouse of the Stormlands.
As for the King himself? He was copying the Targaryen model, relying entirely on the Crownlands for his direct power base.
"This is an incredibly dangerous precedent. Once that uncle grows up, there is a very high probability he becomes a lethal threat to the King's trueborn son," Ser Lucas said, his voice dropping low.
This was the most glaringly obvious pattern in Westerosi history. Uncles constantly plotted to murder their nephews and steal the throne or the lordship.
You didn't even have to look far back; the history since Aegon's Conquest was overflowing with documented examples.
Almost every single Great House had engaged in brutal, intra-family succession wars for power.
Maegor the Cruel murdered his nephew, Prince Aegon the "Uncrowned." In the Stormlands, Borys Baratheon was so enraged when the birth of his nephew bumped him down the line of succession that he joined the Vulture King to raid his own homeland. There were even dark rumors that Tywin's grandfather, Gerold "The Golden" Lannister, had smothered his older brother's infant daughter with a pillow to steal Casterly Rock.
The Vale and the North were no exceptions. The foundational histories of House Arryn and House Stark were built on blood, theft, and usurpation.
It was only the presence of honorable anomalies like Jon Arryn and Eddard Stark that made the current generation look strangely peaceful.
The Vale had suffered through the brutal succession crisis following the death of Lady Jeyne Arryn.
In the North, the legendary "She-Wolves of Winterfell" era was triggered by the massive family civil war that erupted after the death of Cregan Stark. Two uncles, desperate for power, married their deceased older brother's daughters and plunged the North into chaos.
Eventually, it devolved into a vicious political bloodbath where a pack of Stark widows tore each other apart trying to secure the seat for their respective sons.
"Placing absolute faith in family loyalty over the cold mechanics of power is a massive gamble. Perhaps the King believes that doing this before his son is born will somehow solidify the Baratheon grip on the realm," Arthur mused.
"It won't. If he wanted to consolidate his rule, Dragonstone is more than enough for a brother. The Stormlands belong to Robert by right, and the Stormlords worship him. He had absolutely no reason to give that up. If he has a son, the son should inherit it all. That is how you build a dynasty," Ser Lucas shook his head firmly.
"What truly baffles me, however, is Jon Arryn. How could the Hand of the King not talk him out of a decision this massive?" Ser Lucas wondered aloud.
"It's simple," Arthur smiled coldly. "The Hand cannot control his foster son."
Despite his immense authority, when Jon Arryn tried to fire the corrupt Commander of the City Watch, Robert bluntly refused, and Arryn simply dropped the issue.
Everyone in the Seven Kingdoms claimed the King listened to his Hand's every word. In reality, Robert only listened when it suited him.
When it came to spending the crown's gold or handing out royal titles, Robert ignored Arryn completely.
He listened to Arryn regarding the Lannister marriage and calling off the Targaryen assassins. But even the marriage was only a half-measure; Robert married Cersei, then immediately went back to whoring and drinking, treating the critical political alliance with absolute disrespect.
Judging by his track record, Jon Arryn might be the Hand of the King, holding a monopoly on executive power, but he lacked Tywin Lannister's iron-fisted, domineering authority. To Arthur, Arryn's political style was fundamentally soft.
One was the harsh, blinding sun of summer; the other was the weak, pale sun of winter. Aside from their deep personal bond, this lack of friction was likely why Robert kept Jon Arryn around.
Ser Lucas paused, then sighed. "Well, let it be. They are all young. Renly is a boy, and Cersei is only just carrying the heir. We do not need to worry about the long-term consequences right now. By the time men are forced to take up arms again, who knows what the world will look like? I may be too old for the battlefield by then, but you young men will have to face it."
"We ride the wave as it comes," Arthur said smoothly. "My first harvest of sweet corn is ready for the market. Renly's investiture ceremony in King's Landing is the perfect opportunity to officially launch it." He raised his glass of lemon water and drained it.
Renly Baratheon. Cersei Lannister. The gears of this world were finally starting to grind.
Honestly, Robert Baratheon and Jon Arryn were absolute geniuses at promoting the most ungrateful, backstabbing vipers imaginable.
Renly and Cersei were the two massive, ticking time bombs planted directly under the Baratheon dynasty.
Cersei's chaotic, incestuous treason spoke for itself.
But the chaos Renly would eventually unleash was arguably even worse. Renly possessed absolutely zero legal claim to the Iron Throne. His entire political philosophy boiled down to: He who has the biggest army makes the rules.
Without even confirming the truth about Cersei's incest, Renly would simply look at the massive combined armies of the Stormlands and the Reach and decide to commit high treason.
He didn't care if Joffrey was Robert's trueborn son or not. He just wanted the big chair. He was the ultimate ungrateful younger brother.
But Arthur wasn't panicking.
Since he couldn't stop the coming chaos, he would simply adapt to it.
When these massive, self-inflicted crises finally detonated, he would use the shockwaves to propel himself to the top.
Chaos is a ladder.