..."I wondered why the birds were chirping so happily early this morning."
"It turns out Lord 'Blackfish' of House Tully has arrived in person."
At Gold Cloaks Headquarters, Arthas opened his arms and, carrying a trace of imperceptible faint blue energy, warmly embraced Brynden Tully, who had arrived in King's Landing with a massive sum of money.
"Greetings, Commander Arthas."
Brynden solemnly greeted Arthas, who was dressed in silk robes; having had no time to change his clothes, Brynden was still clad in mail and leather, looking much like one of the Gold Cloaks.
If the cloak on his back were changed to gold, he might well be mistaken for a member of the Gold Cloaks.
"We have come by order of Lord Robin Arryn of The Eyrie to meet with the kingdom's Master of Coin, Petyr Baelish."
"But we were informed by your men that Baelish has resigned from his post as Master of Coin."
"I hope Commander Arthas can inform me of Baelish's whereabouts."
Stating his purpose directly, Brynden's sharp blue eyes sized up Arthas, unable to reconcile this boy with the constant gentle smile to the legendary Invincible knight of rumors.
Along the way, he had heard more than enough of the bards' boasting about Arthas.
"Oh, dear Lord Brynden."
Arthas frowned, picking up a file from the desk and putting on a look of great distress:
"In truth, we don't know where Lord Baelish is right now either."
"When he left, he only left a document for King Robert, saying something like the King has no need for a bankrupt Master of Coin."
Slapping the table, Arthas stood up in righteous indignation, getting more agitated as he spoke, waving the file in his hand:
"In my view, that untrustworthy fellow just wanted to dodge his debts and has run off to enjoy himself somewhere with the Gold Dragons."
"Lord Brynden, there is something you truly don't know."
"That fellow Baelish didn't leave a single coin behind; instead, he dumped the hot potato of Master of Coin onto my brother, Tyrion."
"King Robert has spent money like water over the years, racking up over six million Gold Dragons in debt—over three million of which is owed to the Lannisters—and now it's all fallen on our heads!"
"Speaking of which, we Lannisters are the biggest victims of Baelish's departure."
"Not only did he not pay back a single copper of the million-plus Gold Dragons he owes us, but he also left us to take the fall for him!"
At this, Arthas angrily threw the file onto the ground, his golden eyes seemingly spitting fire as he stared intently at the standing Brynden, as if he wanted to tear Baelish into a thousand pieces:
"You be the judge, Lord Brynden."
"Is that any way for a human being to act?"
Seeing him so angry, Brynden's eyelids twitched wildly as if he were the one being interrogated; he truly hadn't expected Baelish to dig such a massive hole for Lysa and the Lannister brothers.
With a soft sigh, the look on Brynden's face was incredibly conflicted, but in the end, he did not offer to pay Baelish's debts.
He only offered steady, quiet comfort:
"I sympathize with your plight, Lord Arthas."
"However, didn't I hear from your men that Lord Tyrion has already brought all of Baelish's properties under his own name?"
"The business on Silk Street should be quite profitable, shouldn't it?"
If Brynden hadn't mentioned it, it might have been fine, but at the mention of Silk Street, Arthas seemed even more incensed.
He strode to the window, threw it open, and pointed his right hand toward Silk Street, his hand seemingly trembling with rage:
"That black-hearted Baelish took every single Gold Dragon of profit from all these years before he left; not a coin remains."
"If that weren't enough, he actually owes the prostitutes and pimps an entire year's wages!"
"After Tyrion took over Silk Street, far from making a penny, he had to pay out nearly fifty thousand Gold Dragons upfront—all the savings we two brothers have scraped together over the years!"
Under the warm morning sunlight, there actually seemed to be a glimmer of tears in the blond boy's eyes.
After his chest heaved violently for a while, Arthas let his right hand hang weakly, appearing somewhat despondent, and his originally gentle voice became a bit hoarse:
"That heartless fellow Tyrion said he was going to The North with the King to clear his head and think of a way to raise money, but in truth, he just left this whole mess to me."
"Alas, I am a soft-hearted person; I cannot bear to see so many poor people in King's Landing suffer."
"I had originally planned to use the Gold Cloaks' funds to properly build up King's Landing and improve the lives of the poor in Flea Bottom."
"But who knew... who knew..."
"The former commander, Janos, actually embezzled the funds and diverted all the money to build his mansion!"
At this point, even Brynden, who was always mature, steady, and a proponent of judicial justice, could listen no longer. He struck the floor heavily with his greatsword and cursed:
"Jenoss Slynt?"
"I had heard of that man's ugly deeds back in the Vale; that damned maggot should rot in the seven Hells!"
These righteous words caused Arthas to cast a grateful look at him, as if he had found a kindred spirit.
He stepped quickly to Brynden and clapped both hands heavily on his shoulders, seemingly oblivious to the fact that this man was an elder of similar age to Tywin:
"Thank you for your understanding, Lord Brynden."
After offering a solemn word of thanks, Arthas sighed once more, feigning a look of dejection:
"In truth, I have already made up my mind."
"Once King Robert and his party return from Winterfell, I will take Tyrion with me and tender our resignations to him!"
Before Brynden's shocked and confused eyes, Arthas slowly turned around, hands behind his back, his desolate silhouette looking like an old man who had seen through the world's vicissitudes:
"I originally came to King's Landing with Tyrion full of passion, hoping to do some real good for the kingdom."
"But I am still too young; a shortfall of millions of Gold Dragons..."
"Such a heavy burden is nearly suffocating me."
"I don't know how many times I've woken up in a cold sweat from nightmares, all filled with the disappointed look in my father's eyes, alas..."
"Please, you mustn't, Commander Arthas!"
Seeing that he intended to retire, Brynden hurried to stop him.
Always upright, he truly could not bear to see a boy who cared for the world fall into such a state of self-reproach because he had fallen into Baelish's 'trap'.
After struggling with his expression for a while, this cunning 'Blackfish' finally fell into the net Arthas had cast:
"The debts Baelish owes, we in The Vale of Arryn will pay them for him!"
Having made up his mind, Brynden actually felt relieved; after all, this money was originally intended by Lysa to pay off Baelish's debts.
Furthermore, Baelish was the foster son of his brother, Lord Hoster Tully.
Though he strongly disliked the man's character, in the spirit of family unity, Brynden could not just stand by and watch Baelish gain the reputation of a deadbeat.
Among the nobility of the Seven Kingdoms, such a thing was practically an act of reputation suicide.
"Commander Arthas."
Stepping softly to the incredulous Arthas, Brynden patted the upright and energetic young man on the shoulder, his words full of an elder's care:
"Please, do not give up on your ideals; King's Landing desperately needs a noble like you who cares for the people."
"I came this time by order of Lord Robin, specifically bringing Gold Dragons to pay off Baelish's debts."
"One and a half million Gold Dragons—I believe that is enough to properly realize your ambitions in the capital of the Seven Kingdoms, young Lannister!"
Touched by the elder's kindness, Arthas slowly stood up, placed his right hand over his heart, and solemnly bowed slightly toward Brynden:
"Lord Brynden, you are truly an upright and kind elder."
"The chivalry of Westeros is perfectly embodied in you."
"It's all that fellow Baelish's fault; if he hadn't fled with the funds, the already unprosperous Vale wouldn't have had to produce so much money all at once..."
Reaching out with strong hands to grip Brynden's arms, Arthas's voice was firm and infectious:
"Rest assured, once I inherit the title of lord of casterly rock, The Vale of Arryn and the Riverlands will forever be the Lannisters' firmest allies!"
Looking at Arthas's sincere expression, Brynden, who had never married, actually felt a twinge of envy toward Tywin:
"How wonderful it would be if I had such an outstanding son."
"What a truly compassionate young man..."
..."What a truly hard-to-fool old fellow..."
Watching Brynden leave, Arthas sat contentedly in his chair, the faint blue magic flickering slightly in his hand, a hint of a smile in his golden eyes.
Brynden, nicknamed 'Blackfish,' was indeed not as easy to fool as others; this old knight, around the same age as Tywin, had experienced too much.
Had it not been for Arthas's explosive acting skills, plus... a little bit of Necromancy for mind control, he might not have been able to win him over.
But it didn't matter; at least the outcome was good—well, for Arthas and the poor of King's Landing, that is.
With that thought, Arthas called Lancel in and ordered him to quickly gather men to unload the Gold Dragons from the carriage.
If Brynden were to come to his senses, it would likely be difficult to get him to open his purse again.
Although he had previously scoured fifty thousand Gold Dragons from the brothels of Silk Street and the Flea Bottom Colosseum, and later seized over a million from Janos's mansion, how could Arthas, who was determined to change all of King's Landing, ever think he had too much money?
Not to mention, with the royal treasury unable to produce a single penny, he still had to support such a massive force of Gold Cloaks.
In his heart, since the City Watch now belonged to him, it was part of the only lich king's forces in Westeros, and no one would take it away!
"A Lannister always takes the money..."
Fiddling with a Gold Dragon, flipping it up and down between his strong fingers, Arthas's golden eyes and the Gold Dragon reflected each other, appearing so harmonious.
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