Another peaceful morning dawned over Casterly Rock.
The skies above the Westerlands were clear, and sunlight streamed through the tall windows of the great hall, illuminating the golden stone walls. Servants moved quietly between tables, carrying trays of freshly baked bread, roasted fish, and steaming cups of wine and ale.
Karl Baratheon sat at the head of a long table, enjoying a leisurely breakfast.
He had only just begun eating when the familiar figure of Tyrion Lannister entered the hall.
The dwarf carried a stack of letters under one arm.
Without bothering to greet anyone, he strode directly toward Karl's table, ordered breakfast from a passing servant with practiced efficiency, and then tossed the bundle of letters onto the table.
The pile landed with a dull thud.
Karl glanced at them briefly before returning his attention to his food.
"What are those?"
Tyrion dropped into a chair with an irritated expression.
"Trouble."
His tone suggested the letters were personally responsible for ruining his morning.
"I told you that you should have allowed me to sail to the Free Cities. I could have spent the next few years drinking wine and avoiding politics."
Karl chuckled.
Judging by Tyrion's expression, the letters were indeed unpleasant.
He swallowed a piece of roasted fish before casually saying,
"Let me guess."
"The first letter is from Dragonstone."
"The second is from Highgarden."
"And the third is from King's Landing."
Tyrion wasn't surprised by the answer.
After spending enough time around Karl, he had grown accustomed to these displays of insight.
Instead, he glanced around the hall.
"Where's Robert?"
Karl knew exactly who he meant.
The dragon.
"He disappeared before sunrise."
Karl picked up the stack of letters.
"Probably looking for a new place to sleep."
Tyrion sighed.
A hint of disappointment appeared on his face.
He had secretly hoped to see the dragon.
"If that creature were the size of a warship already, I'd suggest taking it to visit your uncles."
A grin slowly spread across Tyrion's face.
"I'd love to see Renly and Stannis when they realize your dragon has grown far beyond their expectations."
"Perhaps then they'll finally stop dreaming about the Iron Throne."
Karl smiled but didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he began sorting through the letters.
As expected, the first three bore the seals of Dragonstone, Highgarden, and King's Landing.
The remaining letters came from various noble houses throughout the Westerlands.
Tyrion continued speaking while imagining what it would be like to ride a dragon.
Karl ignored him and opened Eddard Stark's letter first.
The contents were straightforward.
Most of it concerned routine matters of governance.
The truly important section dealt with Stannis and Renly.
As Karl read, he could almost feel Eddard's exhaustion through the parchment.
The Lord of Winterfell had once again urged restraint.
He hoped to personally travel to Dragonstone and persuade Stannis to abandon his claim to the throne.
Karl couldn't help smiling.
Unfortunately, it was not a happy smile.
It was the smile of someone who already knew the answer.
Tyrion finally noticed.
"What?"
Karl folded the letter.
"Nothing."
His expression remained calm.
But Tyrion had already sensed something.
The dwarf narrowed his eyes.
Karl rarely smiled like that.
Whenever he did, someone usually suffered.
Tyrion's gaze shifted instinctively toward the absent dragon.
"You're hiding something."
Karl laughed.
"Am I?"
Tyrion ignored the question.
"You don't want anyone to know how much Robert has grown."
"Why?"
Karl placed the Stark letter aside.
"Because it isn't time yet."
His fingers tapped the table.
"More importantly, someone is already preparing for Robert."
Tyrion froze.
The words immediately captured his attention.
"Preparing for him?"
Karl nodded.
"The dragon's growth has exceeded everyone's expectations."
"That means someone, somewhere, is already thinking about how to kill him."
The dwarf leaned back thoughtfully.
That possibility had never occurred to him.
A dragon was powerful.
But a growing dragon was also a threat.
And powerful men always prepared for threats.
Karl continued calmly.
"The problem is that whoever is planning this won't reveal themselves easily."
Tyrion rubbed his chin.
For once, he couldn't immediately determine Karl's target.
While the dwarf pondered the mystery, Karl opened the next letter.
This one came from Dragonstone.
The moment he finished reading it, he burst out laughing.
Tyrion looked up.
"What now?"
Karl tossed the letter onto the table.
"Stannis wants me to abandon my claim and swear loyalty to him."
Tyrion rolled his eyes.
"How generous."
Karl opened the letter from Highgarden.
As expected, Renly's message contained nearly the same demand.
The wording was far more polite.
The tone was friendlier.
But the meaning remained unchanged.
Renly expected Karl to surrender his claim to the throne and acknowledge him as king.
Karl shook his head.
His uncles truly lived in their own world.
After setting both letters aside, he looked toward Tyrion.
"So?"
"What do you think of my dear uncles?"
Tyrion considered the question carefully.
Eventually, he sighed.
"Honestly?"
Karl nodded.
"If they continue insisting on their claims, and you fail to respond, it will damage your authority."
The dwarf's expression became serious.
"You cannot ignore this forever."
"If you want the Iron Throne, you must act."
Karl wasn't surprised.
The answer was exactly what he expected.
Tyrion disliked war.
But he understood politics.
Hesitation at the wrong moment could destroy everything.
Karl smiled slightly.
"Fair enough."
His attention shifted toward the remaining letters.
The correspondence from the Westerlands.
These letters interested him far more than those from his uncles.
"Let's see what my future vassals have decided."
He opened the first.
"House Banefort."
Karl scanned the contents.
"Interesting."
"They're coming to Casterly Rock personally."
The next letter produced a similar result.
"House Westerling."
"They're coming too."
Another.
"House Sarsfield."
"Also coming."
Karl continued opening letters one after another.
Eventually he reached one bearing the seal of House Farman.
That caused him to pause.
Looking up, he asked,
"How many members of House Farman survived the Ironborn raids?"
Tyrion immediately understood why he was asking.
He set down his cup.
"Lord Sebastian Farman survived."
"One of his sons did not."
The dwarf's expression darkened.
"The rest of the family suffered heavily."
He didn't need to elaborate.
The meaning was obvious.
The Ironborn had devastated Fair Isle.
Karl nodded slowly.
"No wonder his letter sounds so sincere."
Tyrion snorted.
"When your home is burning, loyalty becomes much easier."
Karl couldn't argue with that logic.
He continued reading.
House Kenning.
House Prester.
House Westerling.
House Banefort.
The pattern gradually became impossible to ignore.
Karl suddenly stopped.
Something wasn't right.
Across the table, Tyrion noticed immediately.
"You finally see it."
Karl looked up.
"The families supporting me most enthusiastically..."
"...are all the ones who suffered the greatest losses."
Tyrion nodded.
"Exactly."
"The houses devastated by the Ironborn have nowhere else to turn."
"They need stability."
"They need protection."
"And most importantly, they need a king capable of rebuilding what they've lost."
Karl leaned back thoughtfully.
Meanwhile, many of the wealthier houses remained cautious.
Watching.
Waiting.
Refusing to commit.
Tyrion stuffed a piece of bread into his mouth.
"The houses that suffered less damage are still sitting on the fence."
"They're waiting to see who wins."
His eyes drifted toward the mountains outside the window.
"Which is why I still think you should display Robert publicly."
"A dragon tends to encourage loyalty."
Karl laughed.
"A reasonable argument."
Then his expression slowly changed.
His eyes became distant.
Thoughtful.
Dangerous.
After a long silence, he finally spoke.
"To be honest, Tyrion..."
"I've been wondering whether there's a way to make everyone much more proactive."
The dwarf blinked.
"What?"
Karl folded his hands beneath his chin.
"This waiting and watching is becoming irritating."
"I almost wish someone would openly oppose me."
Tyrion nearly choked on his breakfast.
The expression on his face resembled someone discovering that his king had suddenly lost his mind.
"You want them to rebel?"
Karl shrugged.
"Wouldn't that make things simpler?"
Tyrion stared at him.
For several seconds, he genuinely wondered whether dragon fumes had damaged Karl's brain.
"Have you gone insane?"
"If you provoke every noble in the Westerlands, what exactly do you think you'll gain?"
He pointed accusingly across the table.
"Empty castles."
"Ruined lands."
"Countless enemies."
"And a reputation rivaling Maegor the Cruel."
His voice rose with each sentence.
"Karl, you're many things."
"But you're not a tyrant."
Karl listened quietly.
When Tyrion finally finished, he sighed.
Then he looked toward the ceiling.
"The problem is that if nothing changes..."
"...how do I catch the bigger fish?"
That answer immediately caught Tyrion's attention.
The dwarf narrowed his eyes.
A chill ran down his spine.
Something about Karl's tone felt wrong.
Slowly, Karl pointed toward the letters from the devastated houses.
Tyrion followed his gaze.
Then realization struck.
"The Iron Islands."
Karl smiled.
A cold smile.
The kind that usually preceded trouble.
"Exactly."
For a moment, neither man spoke.
Then Karl leaned forward.
"I don't like pirates."
The room suddenly felt colder.
"No particular reason."
"I simply don't like them."
Tyrion stared.
Karl continued.
"Tell me honestly."
"Would you enjoy living beside a bandit who constantly watches your house?"
"A thief waiting patiently for weakness?"
"Someone ready to strike the moment your back is turned?"
Understanding finally dawned.
Tyrion slowly put down his fork.
His expression became serious.
"You think the Greyjoys will rebel again."
Karl's smile widened.
The dragon wasn't the target of his plans.
The Iron Islands were.
And from the look in his eyes, Karl had already begun deciding what to do about them.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)