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34% Game of Thrones: Lord of the Flames / Chapter 119: Chapter 120: Arrival

Bab 119: Chapter 120: Arrival

"What's that smell?"

On the port docks, Nathalie had just been marveling at the grandeur of this vast city, when suddenly she covered her nose and mouth in disgust.

Samwell chuckled. "That, my dear... is the smell of excrement, sweat, garbage, and rot. When you cram half a million people into any city, that's just the scent you get."

"That's awful…" Nathalie's excitement over the famed capital vanished, her anticipation dissipating like smoke in the stinging stench.

"Don't worry, Lady Nathalie." Hobber Redwyne, standing beside her, reassured her. "That's just the scent of commoners. Once we're inside the Red Keep, you won't smell any of this."

Samwell laughed derisively. "The Red Keep smells even worse."

"What?" Nathalie was even more unsettled.

"Impossible!" Hobber scoffed back. "Samwell, you've never been to the Red Keep; don't speak nonsense."

Ignoring him, Samwell turned and headed down the gangway.

Nathalie hurried after him. "Sam, what does the Red Keep smell like? Why is it worse?"

"The Red Keep… well, it reeks of lies and intrigue."

Nathalie gasped, instinctively tightening her hold on his arm.

The group left the port and made their way through crowded streets, heading for Aegon's Hill.

As they neared the bronze gates of the Red Keep, Hobber Redwyne suddenly gasped, "Look! Is that Lady Margaery? She's come to welcome us herself!"

"It is Lady Margaery!" Horas Redwyne straightened up in the saddle, inwardly regretting he hadn't donned armor or formal attire. Nursing his injury from the recent sea battle, with his arm in a sling, he looked more pitiable than presentable.

Damn Euron Greyjoy! Horas inwardly cursed, though he still put on what he thought was his most charming smile.

As they approached, the two brothers dismounted, bowing deeply.

"Lady Margaery!"

Today, Margaery was dressed in a white pleated dress, tied with a gold ribbon at the waist. A green cloak patterned with roses draped over her shoulders, her soft chestnut curls held by a diamond-studded circlet, though the breeze teased them playfully.

"Ser Horas, Ser Hobber—thank you for traveling so far. Did you encounter some trouble on the way?"

The duchess' sweet smile left the two brothers utterly captivated. Horas quickly replied, "Yes, we ran into some pirates, but we managed to drive them off!"

"Oh? Pirates? Is your arm all right?"

"It's just a scratch." Horas tried to move his injured arm to downplay the wound, but a surge of pain twisted his face into a comical grimace.

"That's good to hear." Margaery pretended not to notice Horas's bravado and turned past the two brothers, heading toward Samwell and Nathalie.

"Lady Nathalie, you look beautiful today!" Margaery enveloped her in a warm hug, placing a quick kiss on her rosy cheek.

Nathalie, taken aback by Margaery's enthusiasm, blushed deeply and awkwardly returned the kiss. "Lady Margaery, you look beautiful as well."

"And my knight, See Caesar." Margaery turned to Samwell, extending her fair, delicate hand toward him.

"Lady Margaery." Samwell took her hand, placing a gentle kiss on her fingers.

Then Margaery moved to his right, naturally linking her arm with his. "Come, let's head to the castle. You must tell me all about your encounter with the pirates."

"Of course." Samwell smiled and extended his left arm toward Nathalie's.

She quickly took it.

And so, with Samwell escorting the two lovely ladies, they made their way through the grand gates of the Red Keep, leaving the envious Redwyne brothers behind.

"Wow! You killed ten pirates with a single stroke? Samwell, are you exaggerating?"

"Of course not!" Samwell didn't even get a chance to respond before Nathalie was already defending him. "Everyone on the deck saw it! Lord Caesar swung his blazing sword, and just like that, all those pirates were dead!"

"With Lady Nathalie's word, it must be true." Margaery's smile made Nathalie feel instantly at ease.

Samwell, smiling modestly, added, "In truth, we couldn't have done it without the brave Redwyne soldiers, and, of course, the valiant Ser Horas, who honorably faced the pirate leader alone and was wounded in action."

"Really? Ser Horas, how courageous!" Margaery turned and praised him.

Puffing out his chest, Horas declared, "It was my duty, Lady Margaery. Had Euron Greyjoy not fled so swiftly, I would have taken his head and hung it at the gates of King's Landing!"

"I'm sure you could have." Margaery beamed, then paused, her expression turning thoughtful. "Euron Greyjoy? From the Iron Islands?"

"Yes," Samwell replied, picking up the thread of conversation. "Though Euron's been exiled by his brother, the Iron Islands remain subdued for now. Nothing to worry over."

"Still, I'll have to inform His Grace to put a bounty on him."

"I'll make sure of it. By the way, is His Grace in King's Landing?"

"No, he went to Winterfell. He should be returning soon."

"Winterfell…" Samwell repeated, a silent smile on his lips.

It seemed everything was back on the path of the original storyline. Destiny's river had struck an unexpected rock but was attempting to flow back to its course.

But Samwell knew that things would never be the same again.

The main events had shifted. Though some details might mirror the past, they were now parts of a different story.

In this King's Landing, the stage was now set for the trial of the Red Viper.

Thinking of this, Samwell asked, "Has Prince Oberyn arrived?"

"He has. But… each day, Prince Oberyn spends hours at the Great Sept of Baelor, praying at the pools of the Seven, with what seems like pious devotion."

Samwell blinked, wondering what game the Red Viper was playing this time. Seeking forgiveness?

Margaery added, "Princess Arianne, on the other hand, has been busy visiting the nobles of King's Landing. I suspect she's trying to build alliances to support her uncle's case. I wouldn't be surprised if she comes to us soon."

Samwell smirked as if a thought had just occurred to him.

Passing through the grand entrance hall, the castle steward arranged for servants to lead each guest to their quarters.

Samwell and the others bid Margaery farewell, agreeing to meet later in the garden for afternoon tea.

After dropping his belongings, freshening up, and changing into new clothes, Samwell left his room.

He didn't head straight for the garden but instead strolled idly through the Red Keep.

The ancient castle exuded a sense of heavy grandeur. Its pale red stone walls had a living quality, as if the fortress itself were sentient.

He was lodged in the northernmost part of the Red Keep, where he could see the White Sword Tower rising above the outer wall. This was home to the seven members of the Kingsguard, the elite knights sworn to protect the king.

Continuing south, Samwell could see the Hand's Tower, residence of the Hand of the King. Beyond it stood Maegor's Holdfast, surrounded by a moat of iron spikes, heavily guarded, a castle within a castle, housing the royal family's quarters.

Samwell was about to walk further when he spotted a familiar figure emerging from Maegor's Holdfast.

He stopped and called out, "Lord Baelish!"

"Littlefinger" Petyr Baelish paused before greeting him with a faint smile and striding over.

"Lord Caesar! We meet again!"

"Indeed, Lord Baelish! I can't tell you how relieved I am to see a familiar face. This is my first time in the Red Keep, and the atmosphere here feels unsettling."

Petyr laughed, clapping a friendly arm around Samwell's shoulders. "Not to worry. I'll tell you a little secret—follow it, and you'll do just fine here."

"Oh? then I'll have to trouble you Lord Baelish." Samwell asked eagerly.

Petyr pointed to a mural on the wall, depicting a gathering of celestial figures. "See the eyes on the wall there?"

"I see them."

"Good. They see us, too."

Samwell paused, uncertain, but Petyr had already turned, gesturing at a buzzing hedge. "Hear the sounds of the insects?"

"I hear them." Samwell's gaze sharpened, beginning to understand.

"They hear us, too." Petyr grinned with that familiar mischievous glint. "Catch my meaning?"

"I do, Lord Baelish. You mean… that there are eyes and ears everywhere here, correct?"

"Smart man!" Petyr nodded approvingly. "The first time I saw you, I knew you were clever. You've already made a name for yourself in the Stormlands. But I have no doubt, Lord Caesar, that this is only the beginning for you. A very bright future awaits you."

"Only with your guidance and help." Samwell replied respectfully.

"Well, fate seems to have brought us both along similar paths. Sam, you should visit me sometime. There are no extra eyes or ears there, and we can speak freely."

"Thank you, Lord Baelish. I look forward to it."

Petyr clapped him on the shoulder with a friendly smile, then strolled off, disappearing behind the red walls.

Samwell watched Baelish's figure fade, lost in thought.

"Eyes and ears everywhere?"

Was that a hint to watch out for the "Spider," Varys?

(End of Chapter)

[I'm thinking of uploading this in another site just to be safe. I alr knkw Webnovel and their CN ways, so they'll probably delete this or something]


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