Artys Arryn POV
I am fed up with these Lannisters. They always feel the need to shove their noses into my business. And thanks to Lyn Corbray and Jaime's little performance, everyone nearby is staring at us.
"Ser Lyn, let go of his hand," I ordered.
"But, my lord—" he protested.
"You should listen to your master," Jaime said with that smug little smile of his.
Perfect. I'm trying to calm things down and this golden-haired shit is poking Lyn on purpose. And judging by the rage pouring off Lyn, I need to get this hothead under control before he does something that'll get us all killed.
"Lyn. Step back. Follow the orders." Ser Jasper finally spoke, grabbing Lyn's hand and pulling it away from Jaime.
"Kingslayer, my instruction from Lord Arryn is to ensure his son's safety above all else. I've been authorized to do whatever is necessary. So I'll ask you to leave." Jasper's hand rested on his sword hilt.
He's not beating Jaime in a duel, but confidence is half the battle.
"I'm not here to harm the boy," Jaime said, raising his hands in a surrendering motion.
"I never said you were. But we'd appreciate it if you kept your distance," Jasper replied calmly.
"Fine. I only came here to clear a misunderstanding, but never mind. Good luck, boy, for the next round." Jaime muttered and walked off with his two knights.
"Ser Lyn, do I need to remind you of your responsibilities?" Jasper snapped, veins popping on his forehead.
"Remind me? I was protecting him. That Kingslayer tried to put his hands on the young lord, so I intervened. Unlike you, who just stood there," Lyn shot back.
Wonderful. Jaime leaves and these two immediately start barking like dogs. Why does everyone feel the need to fight each other? It's a tourney, not a battlefield, and none of these idiots are even participating.
"You idiot, that's not what I'm mad about. And if you hadn't stepped in, I would have. What I'm angry about is when you were given orders to leave his hand, you didn't," Jasper said, fuming.
What was Jon thinking, trusting my life to these two hotheads?
"Ser Jasper is right. It doesn't send a good message if you ignore my orders. Besides… why do you think Jaime came to visit me?" I asked, trying to cool the tension.
"Does it even matter? These Lannisters are up to no good," Lyn muttered.
I actually agree. Jaime didn't come here to mend any relationship. He definitely had some ulterior motive behind his visit. But forget that ,I need to focus on the tourney.
"The second round of the archery contest is about to start! Qualifiers, report to the grounds!" the herald shouted.
"Looks like I have to go now. Ser Jasper, make sure Ser Lyn doesn't get himself drunk," I said and headed toward the grounds.
As I walked, I saw Prince Zhalan Toh chatting with Jaime Lannister.
Great. Now What are they whispering about?
"Last call for contestants! Or you will be disqualified!" the herald shouted.
Prince Zhalan Toh looked at me and smiled. Jaime glanced at me once, then walked away.
What the hell are these two planning?
I need to get my spy network into working mode. This world is full of schemes and I need to know every last one of them. Time to get more birds and maybe other animals into service.
I hope they've recruited the rest of the ravens into my service. I told them to call me Emperor and promised them guaranteed good food, and they seem to have taken this idea to their heart.
"So, little one, ready for the second round? The last one was a good shot, but now it's seventy-five yards away," the prince said, looking down at me. Literally. Because I'm shorter than him.
"Don't worry. I can do this all day," I replied.
He simply walked past me. Didn't even bother replying. Motherfucker.
There were only seven contestants in the second round, so everyone got their own targets and we all could shoot at the same time unlike last round where we were organized into groups.
"Ready!" the judge shouted.
I put an arrow on the bowstring, drew it back, closed my left eye, and focused.
"Fire!"
Seven arrows flew. Seven arrows hit. Mine buried itself dead center again.
So this is how it feels to have a cheat code. Thanks to that bitch's gift, I can't miss. Pity he didn't give me more gifts.
The judge checked the targets and whispered the results to his subordinate who then passed it to the herald.
"Prince Zhalan Toh of the Summer Isles! Qyren Sand of Dorne! And Artys Arryn, son of Jon Arryn, Hand of the King and heir to the Eyrie — all three have hit bullseyes and entered the final round!"
The crowd cheered. But many in crowd were nervous as they have made a bet.
I looked toward the royal stands, at the golden bitch, and gave a small gentleman's bow. I wonder what Cersei's expression is right now.
Nothing personal, but if I'm building a trade empire, the Lannisters would be one of the biggest obstacles in Westeros. And in the next ten years, with all the mess she and her son will create, it would be foolish to tie myself to them.
Not to mention, this mother-and-son pair are straight-up psychopaths.
"The others may leave! Targets are now set a hundred yards away! No rest unless requested!" the judge declared.
"I can do this all day. No break needed for me," Zhalan Toh said, winking at me.
Copycat.
"Well, I don't need rest either," I said immediately. Not like we're running a hundred-meter race.
"Neither do I," Qyren Sand added coldly.
"Very well then. Let's continue the contest without any delay," the judge said.
We drew again.
"Fire!"
The three arrows flew. Silence. Then impact.
Mine hit dead center again. The other two hit their targets too, almost near the center, but nowhere close to mine. The crowd roared before the judge even said anything my arrow was right in the middle of the target, So every one knew the result.
"Artys Arryn has won the contest," the herald declared. He didn't even bother to consult the judge.
"Looks like I won," I smirked at Zhalan Toh.
He didn't answer. Just stared like I'd slept with his wife… or his mother.
"Please tell your people hello from me when you sail home in shame, prince." I laughed.
"You—!" He stepped forward, furious, then stopped himself and walked back, glaring hard.
"This is Westeros, not the Summer Isles! Remember that!" I reminded him.
He's the perfect target to test Kaelen and those Unsullied. Let's see how long it takes them to get this prince dead. He and Jaime clearly have something going on between them — some deal, some scheme, something already arranged. Otherwise why in the seven hells would those two be talking?
I need the birds in action immediately. I need my F.B.I. everywhere, gathering information day and night. Spread out so widely that not even the Spider can match my spy network.
I wonder how much money would Soyrn and rest would have made so far
Oops. How could I forget my golden bitch? I looked back toward the royal seats and gave another gentleman's bow.
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Cersei POV
The wine cup shattered in my grip.
That boy bowed again slow, graceful, dripping venom. Everyone was cheering for him .
Jaime, you useless fool. I told you to deal with that boy—sabotage his bow—but you couldn't even manage that.
"Mother, why are they cheering for him again?" Joffrey asked, my golden boy innocent as ever.
Because the smallfolk love their little falcons, sweetling.
"Come, Joffrey. We're leaving."
I looked at the fat oaf next to me, passed out from drinking, with a whore still sitting on his lap.
"Get His Grace to his chambers," I ordered Ser Barristan Selmy. "And pay the whore."
You wait until Joffrey is old enough to inherit the throne. You'll be dead by then. Because of you, my son just lost his chance to wield a Valyrian steel sword.
But don't worry when Joffrey is old enough, I'll have this boy drowned in Blackwater, and then my Joffrey can sit on the Iron Throne with his Valyrian steel sword.
I'll be beside my son rule the seven kingdoms through him.
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Soryn POV
"Whoa, look at this coin, brother! It's a golden dragon!" Noll squealed, waving it like a toy.
Smallfolk brats. Of course they'd never seen real gold.
I still don't understand why the master keeps them alive. Bryce might make a passable guard one day. Noll is just a loud mouth with legs.
Master should've listened to my advice and let Kaelen deal with those two boys.
Loose tongues sink ships.
"Enough," I snapped. "Bag the coins."
Kaelen and the Unsullied stood near by. The losers who'd bet against the young lord were already slinking away.
"Why are you angry at us, you fat bald bull?" Noll stomped.
"Noll, shut it," Bryce hissed. "Forgive my brother, my lord he has no manners."
"I'm not a lord. You can use my name. And teach your brother how to behave especially in front of master or I'll do it myself."
If it were up to me, I'd sell the pair to the slaver even if it meant taking a loss. They'd fetch only a few coppers at best, considering both of them are idiots.
Feeding them is a waste of good coin.
POV ends.
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