After writing off a very significant portion of the crown's debt, I began to notice that people's attitude toward me had changed. In their eyes, I saw, no, not respect—which was still far away—but interest and attention.
Such a royal act, despite the absence of blood, epic deeds, or enemy corpses, was in fact very, very significant. And its consequences, like ripples spreading across water from a fallen stone, traveled throughout Westeros.
Lords, knights, and common folk alike could clearly see that matters in the realm were improving. And if the kingdom had begun to pay off its debts, then everything must be going well, and power must be in the hands of people who knew how to think.
In any case, that was precisely the effect I had been counting on…
One day, a full delegation gathered at the main pier of King's Landing—practically all the Lannisters and Tyrells who were in the city at the time.
The guards reported that in half an hour the ship carrying Princess Myrcella would drop anchor, and we set out to meet her.
Golden cloaks surrounded us, pushing gawkers, dockworkers, and sailors aside.
The enormous port—where no one thought about cleanliness and trash was thrown overboard at every opportunity—looked entirely appropriate.
The dirty water, stained with blooming algae, was littered with scraps of fruit and vegetables, rags, eggshells, splintered wood, and other refuse. I even noticed a couple of cat carcasses bobbing on the shallow waves in the shadow of a neighboring pier.
And yet, beyond the usual trash, all the sewage and drainage of King's Landing flowed into this very place! Another problem that would need addressing in the future.
The water exuded a musty, heavy stench. From time to time, a light breeze carried a breath of fresher air along the pier, and everyone felt better for a short while.
Tyrion was speaking quietly with Sansa, and behind them loomed the massive figure of Brienne of Tarth—I had never met a woman of such stature before. She surveyed everyone competently and professionally, remaining constantly vigilant. Podrick was with them, but Bronn had vanished somewhere.
I myself stood in the company of Margaery and Tommen. Near us, in a separate circle, were the elders—Tywin, Kevan, Cersei, and Mace, who was due to depart for Storm's End in a few days. Lady Olenna was absent; the old woman had returned to Highgarden several days earlier.
Kingsguards under Jaime's command formed an honor guard.
Several hundred onlookers, as usual, gathered around, eager for a free spectacle. The captains and shipowners stood a little apart, clearly displeased—our meeting was disrupting their schedules.
A forest of masts, sails, and pennants swayed on all sides. King's Landing welcomed guests from all over Westeros, Essos, the Summer Isles, the Basilisk Isles, and even the Jade Sea.
People, cargo, traditions, languages, and customs from all over the world were intricately interwoven in this vast port. All of it lived, breathed, cursed, and laughed, creating an incredible atmosphere.
The mighty galley Sunbeam entered the harbor and, maneuvering skillfully, approached the pier. The boatswain's whistle shrilled, accompanied by the captain's guttural shouts.
All the oars on one side rose into the air; the other side continued working cautiously as the helmsman guided the ship in with practiced ease.
The galley thudded dully against the coils of rope wound around the mooring posts and came to a halt. Lines flew from the deck, and the ship was quickly secured.
A pretty, graceful girl with clear skin and golden hair ran down the lowered gangway.
"Mother!"
Myrcella rushed first to Cersei. Everyone saw the queen smile as the mask of stern authority slipped from her face for a brief moment.
After Cersei, it was my turn. Myrcella hesitated, clearly unsure how to behave, but I seized her myself and pulled her into a tight embrace, and even kissing her on both cheeks.
"I'm so glad to see you, little sister! You look beautiful!"
"I'm glad to see you too, Joff," she replied with a smile, as though she had been waiting for this moment.
Everyone present greeted Myrcella in turn. Tommen looked absolutely radiant with happiness. Margaery was introduced to her sister-in-law, and they exchanged kisses. Then Margaery leaned close, whispered something into Myrcella's ear, and the two girls looked at each other and burst into laughter—my wife had always found it easy to get along with people.
Myrcella was genuinely delighted to see Tyrion and, without hiding her emotions, leaned over, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him several times. Uncle looked very pleased, grinning as he always did. Tyrion formally introduced Sansa, and Myrcella smiled sincerely at her as well, kissing her on the cheek.
My sister hesitated slightly when greeting Jaime. I suspected she already knew that he was her true father.
Kevan allowed himself a moment of tenderness and kissed his grandniece. Tywin merely nodded, expressing satisfaction that her journey was finally over. Mace Tyrell, like any good grandfather, kissed Myrcella warmly.
Once the greetings and expressions of joy were complete, we all moved toward the castle as a single procession. Jaime walked a little apart, listening to the report of a knight of the Kingsguard—Ser Aris Oakheart, a man of average height with an open face and light brown hair.
Ser Aris had accompanied Princess Myrcella to Dorne all this time and was now reporting to his Lord Commander on how he had carried out his duty.
A couple of hours later, after Myrcella had rested, bathed, and made herself presentable, Margaery and I invited her to our quarters.
My sister had been given separate apartments not far from the royal ones. Servants were still bringing in her belongings, while the two ladies-in-waiting who had accompanied her to Dorne were arranging everything in its proper place.
Myrcella proved to be a beautiful, cheerful girl with a voice as clear as a bell. It seemed she had inherited all of Cersei's virtues while somehow shedding her flaws.
She made no secret of her fondness for Tyrion. Within an hour, she had effortlessly found common ground with Margaery. Even Sansa, seated beside them, no longer seemed so cold—Myrcella kept talking to her, patiently and steadily improving their relationship.
I didn't know whether there was some deliberate intent behind it, or whether Myrcella had simply missed her, but I chose not to dwell on it. If the girl could lower the level of mutual distrust—or even outright hostility—between us, that alone would be worth celebrating.