At that moment, the hall itself had become a sea of celebration. All around, people rejoiced for the Iron Throne and for King Robert's victory in the war.
Music resounded through the throne hall, vast enough to hold a thousand people, filling the air with excitement and clamor.
The once-spacious chamber now seemed packed to bursting, as though stuffed full.
Along one side of the hall, the royal musicians played tirelessly, performing one song after another.
As for the choice of music—it naturally centered on the King's two greatest loves: wine and women, just as Eddard Stark had once remarked.
Charging straight into the feast with his cup in hand, King Robert instantly became the heart of the revelry.
The atmosphere surged to another climax.
Meanwhile, Ser Kal Stone—newly hailed as the hero of the Seven Kingdoms—remained quietly seated in his place, maintaining his usual low profile.
Even so, he still had to exchange polite words with nobles who approached to toast him.
Listening to their self-introductions, Kal quietly committed their names to memory while taking the chance to inquire about what they did—
What estates they held, what industries they controlled.
As for their boasts about honor and glory, Kal listened only selectively, at best.
But most of Kal's attention remained focused on the composition of the other noble houses and the industries tied to them.
After several rounds of toasts and exchanged cups, he quietly gained a deeper understanding of the tangled web of alliances among these nobles.
"Boss?"
Just as Kal was mulling over how far the connections of the noble who had just spoken with him might extend, Kossi slipped through a gap in the crowd and came up beside him.
"Kossi, what is it?" Kal smiled as he looked at the man approaching in a familiar, almost deferential manner. "How have you been feeling in the army lately?"
It had been some time since Kal had last seen him, and he had almost grown unaccustomed to his absence.
But Kossi was someone Kal had deliberately left within the army to gain experience—mainly in logistics.
Kal had said before that the dozen or so men forming his newly created Blackstone Mercenary Company were his foundation for future development, and he placed great expectations upon them.
After all, those men were not chosen at random.
At Kal's question, Kossi looked a little embarrassed.
"Lord Eddard has treated me very well. I've been learning a lot these days," he replied quickly, knowing perfectly well what Kal was really asking.
Kal nodded in satisfaction, just about to speak further when Kossi hurriedly cut in.
"Actually, Boss, I came to ask you—what should we do next?"
"What do you mean?" Kal frowned slightly, not understanding. "Do what next?"
"The war's over. The brothers are… uneasy, I guess. Or rather, they're not used to it."
Kossi grinned, showing his canine teeth, and lightly tapped his cup against Kal's on the table.
Catching his intent, Kal smiled faintly and took a small sip of his drink, grasping what Kossi meant.
After all, though he now bore the title of Warden of the East, he was still just a landless knight.
And since these men had sworn allegiance to him, their fortunes were naturally bound to their lord's.
Just as Kal was weighing how to answer, the absolute center of the hall—the King himself—suddenly stood atop a banquet table as if struck by inspiration.
"I declare that to celebrate this great victory, I shall hold a grand tournament!"
A single stone stirred a thousand ripples. Following the king's words, the entire banquet hall instantly fell silent.
The next moment, endless cheers and praises surged forth like a tidal wave.
After the grand feast, another grand occasion was about to unfold.
The banquet went on until the early hours of the next morning, only gradually coming to an end after everyone had drunk themselves senseless and collapsed on the floor.
Although some with particular motives had long achieved their aims in the course of the night, for the majority who simply came to enjoy the revelry—
This had, of course, been a joyful time.
Yet the waves of excitement always had to subside eventually.
When the last banquet ended and Kal once again stepped into a room that did not belong to him, it was already the third day.
At the long unfamiliar table, two men who had arrived long before were seated, their eyes fixed on Kal Stone, who had just entered the council chamber.
Varys had his hands tucked into his sleeves, and at the first sight of Kal, he inclined his head in greeting, smiling warmly to show his goodwill.
This was the council chamber within the Red Keep, the place reserved for the king and his foremost ministers to hold meetings and hear the governance proposals of their respective offices.
Ever since Eddard Stark had arrived in King's Landing, Kal had handed over all his administrative duties without the slightest psychological burden or reluctance.
After all, the true Hand of the King had arrived; as for himself, it would be foolish to invite unnecessary trouble by clinging to authority.
Acting out of necessity had been understandable before—but now that the rightful man was here, keeping such power in his hands would be improper.
Of course, the military authority Kal secretly controlled within King's Landing had not been touched.
He intended to observe King Robert's attitude toward this matter—or perhaps that of Eddard Stark.
As for why Kal had come here today, it was because he had been summoned by the Hand of the King.
While leisurely brushing Fawkes's mane and enjoying a rare moment of relaxation, he had suddenly received a message from the royal steward:
The Hand requested his presence at the Small Council meeting.
Changing into proper and formal attire, Kal came to this council chamber.
The furnishings were exceedingly lavish; the floor was covered with carpets from Myr rather than rush mats or the less refined wool or camel-hair rugs that passed for luxury among lesser nobles or merchants.
In one corner of the room stood a wooden screen from the Summer Islands. When Kal's eyes swept over it, he instantly noticed the carvings—hundreds of vividly colored, lifelike exotic birds and beasts.
Most of these creatures he did not recognize.
As for the ones he did, he happened to know that some of them tasted rather good.
On the walls hung exquisite tapestries from Norvos, Qohor, and Lys.
And on either side of the doorway stood a pair of Valyrian sphinx statues—their rounded red-garnet eyes gleaming brightly in the black-marble faces, as if watching Kal Stone, who gazed back at them.
His eyes moved quickly over the chamber, and for a brief moment after stepping into this place he had never been before, Kal almost thought he was still in some grand governor's villa across the Narrow Sea.
The weather here was just as hot.
Fortunately, a gust of wind blew in through one window and out the other, bringing a rare touch of coolness to the small room—and also snapping Kal back to his senses.
"Good morning, my lords."
Meeting Varys's polite nod, Kal smiled and returned the gesture, then greeted the other man seated at the table.
This man appeared elderly, with white hair and beard, yet his frame was tall and imposing.
The blue eyes fixed on Kal carried a depth tinged with sorrow.
He wore a set of white armor, the scales laced and clasped with threads of silver.
A white cloak hung over his shoulders, and beside him rested a longsword in a white scabbard.
Kal had seen such white cloaks and white armor before—
In fact, among his own trophies were three sets just like them.
They all belonged to the same kind of men—the Kingsguard.
Kal had killed three of them, one of whom was the "Kingslayer," Jaime Lannister, one of those responsible for the war that had only recently ended.
And the man now seated before him, watching as Kal entered, was none other than the current Lord Commander of King Robert Baratheon's Kingsguard—"Barristan the Bold."
Ser Barristan Selmy.
Many believed Barristan to be the most dutiful and honorable knight in all the Seven Kingdoms—the one who best embodied the very name of a Kingsguard knight.
Kal thought that was probably true.
So he inclined his head slightly in respect and said, "Ser Barristan Selmy, I have heard stories of you since I was a child. It is an honor to work alongside you."
Kal was not wrong—though he held no official title at present, he was, in truth, the de facto commander of the City Watch of King's Landing.
He was testing this royal counselor's view of his actions.
But whether Barristan simply hadn't considered the matter or genuinely didn't care, Kal could not tell.
Instead, the old knight merely nodded slightly and showed a kind smile.
"I am honored to sit at the same table with you as well, Ser Kal Stone," Barristan Selmy said in a strong, clear voice—one that carried none of the frailty of age.
"As for what you said about growing up hearing tales of me, Ser Kal Stone, I believe the stories told about you will resound even louder than mine."
"In my eyes, you are a true knight, Ser Kal Stone."
"If you ever need help, you may come to me."
Aside from the brief exchanges during the king's welcome and the banquet, this was the first true formal meeting between the two of them.
And at this first meeting, Barristan Selmy offered Kal Stone an acknowledgment both solemn and respectful—
Even kindly expressing that Kal could seek him out should he ever need assistance.
To Kal Stone, Barristan's manner carried the warmth of an elder toward a promising younger man.
Still, such friendliness from Barristan was somewhat beyond Kal's expectations.
Though it wasn't as if killing three of the old knight's sworn brothers would make him bear a grudge—that was impossible. After all, if he were that sort of man, he would not be Barristan Selmy.
But this attitude of treating him like an old friend left Kal somewhat unsure how to respond.
Because he could tell that Barristan wasn't merely being polite—he was sincere.
What, were they close acquaintances now?
Kal felt a trace of doubt in his heart.
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