The meeting in the Queen's Hall continued.
Gawen waited until the others had fallen silent before speaking again. "Returning to Ser Lancel's proposed advice—the plan for heads to roll?"
He could hardly stand the way Lancel's eyes shone at him, privately finding the young Lannister brat tiresome.
Ignoring Jaime's less-than-friendly gaze, Gawen went on, "A number of people must be made an example of—and it cannot be a small number. The Queen's dignity must never be trampled upon so lightly!"
Before Jaime could speak, Gawen met his eyes and added, "If we fail to handle it properly this time, there will be more treacherous rats in the shadows, slandering Her Grace again."
Cersei rolled her eyes subtly at Jaime and cut him off before he could reply. "Go on."
Gawen inclined his head toward her. "With a just and impartial heart, we act in the open for all to see. We can use the banner of justice and righteousness to achieve our aims."
"Ser Jaime," Gawen continued, "the Queen's District is one of the poorest areas in King's Landing, plagued by disorder… how many there do you think already deserve to lose their heads?"
Jaime's palms tightened unconsciously as he shot back, "I'll grant you there are many guilty of grave crimes there. But I still ask—how will you tell which are the rumormongers, and how will you prevent the executions from sparking a riot?"
Jaime had seen riots before—their horror was like the Seven Hells unleashed, with innocent smallfolk as the greatest victims. He had a knight's compassion; he was not afraid to kill, but feared that a mishandled purge would ignite an uprising, one that might in turn harm Cersei.
Gawen's tone was calm and measured. "Ser Jaime, first we must decide whether or not they should be executed. The matter of riots comes after."
His gaze swept the gathered attendants. "The rumormongers are not limited to those guilty of other crimes in the Queen's District. But among those criminals, there will certainly be some spreading lies."
"A sharp enough blade will strike fear into the shadows. Once they fear the Queen's iron hand, that fear will breed caution—and that is the result we seek."
Silence followed for a time—some attendants looked enlightened, others sighed, others still were lost in thought. One by one, they began to nod.
Cersei's bright eyes rested on Gawen's refined features, and she inclined her head slightly.
Jaime was almost persuaded, yet unwilling to let Gawen off so easily. He slanted him another look. "And if a riot does break out?"
Gawen thought him small-minded and petty.
As the mountain king of the Crabb lands, he nearly tapped the table out of habit—but managed to restrain himself.
"Fortunately, the Queen's District is already facing an outbreak of disease," he said. "In the name of Her Grace's desire to heal the area, we can seal it off entirely—isolating it from the rest of King's Landing."
"As for the details of the plan…" Gawen turned to Cersei with a bow of his head, "…forgive my boldness, but I must request to present them to you alone."
Pressing his right palm to his chest, he swept a serious gaze over the others. "My lords, this is a war. Forgive me—secrecy before battle must be observed."
There were things that could not be said openly here; the Red Keep held no true secrets.
If Gawen wanted to stand out among the Queen's attendants, he could not aim to please everyone.
His final words, at least, did not entirely disregard their feelings. Not perfect—but enough.
Cersei rose from her seat, and the others followed suit.
Her bright gaze swept over her attendants. Chin tilted slightly, she gave a small nod, turned, and began walking away.
"Baron Crabb," she said as she moved toward the stairs, "come with me alone."
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