Tears streamed down Jefferis's face in crooked trails as he choked out, "Thank you… truly… I shall never forget your grace... not for as long as I live."
Five-year-old Darius, seeing his father weep, puckered his little mouth, ready to burst into tears himself—until the thin, dark-skinned man beside him crouched down and softly comforted him.
The man feared the boy might leave Baron Green with the wrong impression—one of weakness.
Green cast a sideways glance toward Martel. "Martel, be sharp. See to your brother."
The sound of his lord's voice finally pulled Martel from his brooding.
His father now had one more foster son. Sooner or later, the events of today would reach his ears, and Martel's own disgraceful behavior would not stay hidden.
What truly unsettled him was the fear that his strict father would use this as an excuse to force him to father another son. He had been locked away before—long enough to leave scars on his soul.
But then a thought struck him. Wait—I now serve Lord Green. Even Father can no longer order me about. Heh.
Green observed the cascade of expressions crossing Martel's face and found himself unsure what to make of his new squire.
Outwardly impassive, inwardly, Green was sorely tempted to roll his eyes.
Seeing Jefferis finally calming, Green spoke: "Your house, its furnishings, the dishes and curtains, and every last golden dragon you saved—I'll have them watched over. When your boy comes of age… let's say fifteen… I'll return them all to him."
Am I being too generous? Jefferis reeled inwardly. His lips parted, but no words came.
With over twenty years in trade, Jefferis had learned a crucial truth: what a man doesn't say often matters more than what he does.
In that moment, his mind cleared. He thought of his merchant company.
And that thought soothed him. Until now, he had been overwhelmed by the baron's unsettling generosity. But now, clarity returned.
In a frail voice, he said, "Rosell…"
The thin, dark-skinned man who'd been holding Darius's hand stepped forward to the carriage door and bowed deeply to Jefferis.
Jefferis summoned the last of his strength. "My lord… Rosell is the man I trust most. He's overseen nearly all the business of my company… cough, cough..."
He doubled over coughing, then inhaled deeply and continued, despite the pain. "There's no way I can repay your kindness. All I ask is that you protect the company I place in your hands."
Green's brown eyes drifted toward the chubby boy clutching Martel's leg with both arms. A quiet sigh escaped him.
Jefferis, too, noticed how naturally his son clung to Martel, and a flicker of comfort passed through his eyes.
"Rosell," he said, "this is my final request. From now on, you have but one master—Lord Green."
As he spoke the words, it was as though the last of his strength drained away. Jefferis slowly closed his eyes, his breath faint as a whisper.
Rosell cried out, unable to restrain himself. "Master!"
Jefferis, slumped in his seat, cracked one eye open just slightly and gave the faintest shake of his head.
Rosell wiped a tear from the corner of his eye with the back of his hand and straightened his robe with care. He stepped forward, stood before Green, and bowed low.
"My lord," he said, "your faithful servant Rosell stands ready to serve at your command."
Green gave a faint nod.
Hook Alley — Green's Study
Though the matter of Jefferis was—for now—settled, there was still a mountain of work to deal with. Green handed four Clyburn clansmen over to Rosell, entrusting him with all remaining affairs.
Once inside his study, Green penned a command to mobilize twenty men from the Investigation Corps. He gave the sealed letter to a squire and ordered it delivered to a "familiar face" in the Red Keep—Ser Jaime—who would ensure the raven was sent.
After the squire departed, Green received Fawley and Layton, newly arrived from the Queen's District.
He had not forgotten: the day after tomorrow, Queen Cersei's royal hunting party would pass through that area.
And Green, the ever-diligent, would see every detail prepared.
Layton spoke first. "My lord, per your instructions, we've added two hundred temporary watchmen. Along the route the queen will take, we expect roughly a thousand people to gather.
"They're all kin of our guards or temporary hires. Uniformed watchmen will maintain order, while the temporary ones—dressed in plain clothes—will be scattered through the crowd to quietly ensure control."
Green nodded, then turned his gaze toward Fawley.
Fawley's voice was gruff and forthright. "Lord Green, as commanded, starting tomorrow afternoon, we'll cordon off the entire section where the queen will pass. Our people and the Lannister redcloaks will stand guard. No one but Layton's arranged crowd will be allowed in."
Green gave a quiet grunt of approval, then said to Layton, "As for the locals displaced by this—don't be stingy with compensation. I want them wishing for a next time. That goodwill will serve us in future governance. You know the area—set the sums wisely."
Layton bowed. "Yes, my lord. Too much generosity only breeds greed. That's not what you intend. I'll strike the proper balance."
Green turned once more to Fawley. "Once Queen Cersei passes through Lion Gate, lift the cordon. Then you'll rally the clansmen and the redcloaks and have them follow the hunt from behind."
Fawley opened his mouth as if to speak but thought better of it and simply bowed.
A wry smile flickered in Green's eyes. "Still not used to your post as sheriff, Fawley?"
Fawley chuckled and rubbed his hands. "At first it was alright, my lord—brawls every day. But lately? It's been quiet. Only Layton still has anything to do. I'm beginning to wonder—were we too harsh? Have we scared them all off?"
Layton, eldest son of Surana, had proven himself an able steward. Green was finding him increasingly useful.
His thoughts drifted for a moment to distant Whispering Town. How was Kalaya faring under Maester Arl's tutelage?
As his power expanded, Green felt ever more keenly the lack of capable people at his side.
He pushed the thought aside.
"I'll be leaving King's Landing soon. While I'm gone, use your free time to train the watch in swordsmanship. How you structure the training is up to you. If you do it well, I'll find someone to take over your current duties. You'll return to being my Captain of the Guard."
All this talk of boredom was just an excuse. Watching the Queen's District settle, Fawley simply wanted to return to Green's side.
Though he was a warrior at heart, Fawley wasn't without cunning. Unless absolutely necessary, a man should never stray too far from his lord—his future depended on it.
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🔥 The Throne's Last Flame — A Song Forged in Ice and Wrath 🔥
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