chapter 104 part 1
Chapter 104: Small Council (2)
"The Queen has arrived!"
A heavy wooden door in the Throne Room was pushed open.
The figure of Cersei Lannister appeared. She wore the Queen's crown and a red, off-the-shoulder gown as she slowly walked into the hall.
Following Cersei was her loyal guard, Jaime Lannister.
The members of the Small Council, understanding the implication, all rose and placed a hand over their chests in a salute toward Cersei.
Jon Arryn looked at the arrogant Queen Cersei, his expression complicated.
Cersei came to a stop and looked toward the still-seated Hand of the King, Jon Arryn. Their gazes met.
The Hand sighed inwardly. Until the truth was revealed, Cersei was still the Queen, the symbol of the royal family.
With a slightly trembling hand, Jon Arryn grasped the armrest and rose from the wooden chair that represented the Hand of the King. He bowed his head to Cersei in a gesture of respect.
Queen Cersei lifted her smooth chin, the corners of her mouth curving into a small smile.
Cersei glanced around, her eyes falling on the empty seat at the head of the table, then on Jon Arryn, who was standing right beside it.
Cersei strode to the position directly opposite the King's chair and said, "Good day, my lords of the council. I shall sit here. Ser Jaime, please fetch me a chair."
Jaime, unconcerned by the occasional glances from the others, placed a wooden chair behind Cersei with a smirk on his lips.
Barristan glanced at Jaime in his silver armor and white cloak, then closed his eyes, as if what he couldn't see couldn't offend him.
Barristan vehemently disapproved of Jaime Lannister's actions. As a member of the Kingsguard, Jaime had betrayed his vows and harmed the very King he was sworn to protect. His white cloak should have been dyed black.
Moreover, Barristan looked down upon Jaime's now-obvious corruption.
Only after Queen Cersei was seated did the council members return to their chairs.
Renly Baratheon curled his lips and spoke up, "Your Grace, what brings you here so suddenly today? You are a rare guest. The last time you appeared here… I can't quite recall. It seems like it was several years ago."
Cersei did not like Renly, who so closely resembled Robert, in the slightest. She also despised the mockery laced within his words.
Cersei snorted coldly, her beautiful eyes looking at Renly as her lips curled. "Lord Renly, if your sincerity were genuine enough, I would attend every Small Council meeting. For you, and for the Seven Kingdoms."
Renly chuckled and said no more.
Excluding Queen Cersei of House Lannister from the Small Council meetings was a tacit political agreement among them. He had no desire to give anyone cause for gossip, not even for a moment.
After Renly's laughter faded, the minds of those present were filled with their own thoughts. The hall fell silent for a time.
The atmosphere at the long table grew heavier. Petyr's eyes flickered as he looked toward the grave-faced Jon Arryn.
Sensing Petyr's gaze, the Hand gave an imperceptible nod.
Petyr's gaze shifted to Queen Cersei, breaking the silence. "Your esteemed Grace, forgive my impertinence, but what are your orders? Petyr is at your command, always..."
Before Petyr could finish his sentence, he felt the full force of the Queen's disdain from Cersei.
Queen Cersei had no intention of dealing with a mouthpiece like Petyr.
Petyr showed a somewhat helpless expression, shrugged, and fell silent.
Would Petyr secretly resent Cersei for ignoring him? The answer was no.
Everyone in the Red Keep, including Petyr, was long accustomed to Cersei's overbearing arrogance.
Habit becomes second nature. If Cersei were to treat him with gentleness, Petyr would suspect some sort of conspiracy was hidden within.
After another moment, Jon Arryn finally spoke slowly, "Queen Cersei, please speak plainly."
Although a faint, satisfied smile appeared on Queen Cersei's face, she did not hide her disgust for Jon Arryn. "Lord Arryn, it seems your health is indeed in a very poor state. I will arrange for a handmaiden to go to the sept and light a candle to the Seven, to pray for your swift recovery."
Jon Arryn furrowed his brows.
Queen Cersei's timing was too perfect. It made him wonder if there had been a leak in his secret investigation.
The moment this suspicion appeared in his mind, it was immediately dismissed by the Hand.
If he had been exposed, given Cersei's character, she would not be sitting calmly across from him, much less be in the mood to taunt him.
...
Jon Arryn's gaze turned somewhat sharp. "Queen Cersei, I must ask you to speak directly. The Small Council must continue its discussion of the kingdom's affairs."
As the Hand's words fell, before Cersei could even react, Grand Maester Pycelle suddenly spoke up.
"Your Grace, the Hand of the King never speaks falsely. Before your arrival, we were discussing the matter of locking down King's Landing. We still have many issues to discuss."
Petyr's eyes quivered. He felt that the cunning old fox was finally showing his tail.
On the surface, the seemingly senile Grand Maester Pycelle was proactively speaking up for the Hand. This was also very much in line with Pycelle's consistent habit of fawning over the Hand.
But one must consider the circumstances. Even if it was the same action, if performed in a different situation, it could yield completely different results.
For example, with Queen Cersei now present, Pycelle's words were effectively sabotaging the Hand's proposal to lock down the city.
The lockdown plan proposed by Jon Arryn in the Small Council meeting had already gained the support of most members, but it was still one final procedural step away from being approved.
That step was the vote. Only a proposal that had gone through the Small Council's voting process was legitimate.
It was just one step away, yet it was interrupted by Queen Cersei.
Now, Pycelle had "unintentionally" brought this matter up in front of Queen Cersei. What was once a foregone conclusion now faced an unforeseen variable.
...
...
While the great figures in the Throne Room were clashing, Glyn was on the Narrow Sea, upon churning, colossal waves.
Reik Snow shouted, "Lord Glyn, we've been spotted by pirates! But don't you worry, the wind is in our favor! We'll shake them off before nightfall!"
Glyn looked at the three black dots in the distance and raised his voice, "Reik, you are the commander of the Clegane fleet now!"
Glyn took a few steps forward, grabbed a rope, and pointed in the direction of the pirate ships, yelling, "Bring us in closer!"
As you command!
Reik's fighting spirit was ignited. He wiped the seawater from his face and shouted, "First mate, prepare to turn! Hard to port! Hold fast to the ropes!"
The ship's first mate immediately shouted his reply, "Aye, Captain! Hard to port!"
The hull gradually tilted. Reik observed the sea and gave the order, "Steady the course!"
"Aye! Steady the course!"
The sailors on board yelled as they desperately pulled the ropes connected to the sails, controlling their direction.
The bow crashed through layers of waves. The great Clegane sailing ship left a large wake of white foam.
Glyn's ears were filled with the roaring sound of water. He took a specially made longbow from Marciel Beck's hands. "Marciel, stay close to me!"
Marciel, who was covered in quivers, replied loudly, "Lord Glyn, rest assured!"
The men on the pirate ships had also noticed their "prey" adjusting its course to actively approach them.
They had three ships, the other side only two. The advantage was theirs!