Chapter 205 — Commander? You Aren't One Anymore
Headquarters of the Gold Cloaks.
The main hall, built from massive blocks of stone, required torchlight even during the day.
After the Prince Regent and his entourage arrived, the heavy oak doors slammed shut behind them.
Without ceremony or hesitation, Lance Lot walked straight to the high seat and sat down calmly.
He did not immediately deal with Balon Greyjoy and the others.
Instead, with deliberate composure, he began reviewing the City Watch's records from the past several days.
It had to be said—
Janos Slynt had done a very competent job during this period.
The documents recorded every public security incident that had occurred in King's Landing during Lance's absence.
The registers were filled with names.
Far more names than the city's prisons could normally accommodate.
However—
Most of them were nobles.
The heir of an Lord from the Reach.
An arrogant young knight from the Vale.
The nephew of a lord from the Westerlands.
Each surname and domain was carefully recorded, clearly showing the powerful families behind them.
These young nobles from across the realm were accustomed to throwing their weight around back home.
They assumed they could do the same in the capital.
Some had fought over prostitutes.
Others had refused to pay gambling debts.
In short, the variety of trouble these arrogant youths had caused could only be described as flourishing in every possible direction.
As for the smallfolk…
On one hand, very few commoners dared cause trouble under the current strict enforcement.
On the other hand—
They simply weren't worth wasting resources on.
Any commoner caught breaking the law was punished immediately according to the law and then expelled from the city.
For more serious crimes, they were either executed on the spot—
Or escorted north to serve at the Wall.
But when it came to nobles arriving from other regions, Janos Slynt did not dare judge them personally.
After all, anyone bold enough to cause trouble in King's Landing during this time was almost certainly a member of some great lord's household.
Whenever such cases arose, he followed the proper procedure and reported them to the Acting Master of Laws, Kevan Lannister.
As Tywin Lannister's trusted lieutenant, Kevan showed absolutely no softness when dealing with nobles.
Those who deserved punishment were punished.
Those who deserved fines were fined.
After all—
No matter how powerful your family might be,
You could hardly outrank the Lannisters.
And even after paying fines or receiving lashes, Kevan took extra precautions to prevent further trouble in the city.
He issued a direct order to Janos:
Any noble troublemaker—regardless of how much their family paid or whether their punishment had been completed—was to remain imprisoned until the Dragon Festival ended.
Only then would they be released.
Fortunately, most of these noble families were extremely wealthy.
They spared no expense covering their sons' "living costs" in the Gold Cloaks' prisons.
As a result, the City Watch headquarters not only avoided spending money—
It actually turned a tidy profit.
After finishing his review of the reports, Prince Regent Lance Lot expressed approval of the Gold Cloaks' work over the past week.
He further emphasized that in future operations, they must prioritize maintaining the prosperity and stability of King's Landing's public order.
They must fully commit to serving the broader situation and focus on resolving the current shortage of enforcement personnel.
Lessons should be drawn from each case, strengthening organizational leadership, overall planning, and strategic decision-making in all key areas.
Closing the final dossier, Lance lightly tapped his knuckles against the wooden table twice.
"Balon Greyjoy."
His voice was calm.
"Do you admit that you assaulted Tobho Mott on Steel Street?"
"I did, Your Highness—but that was because—"
"Silence."
Lance glanced at the indignant Balon and cut him off immediately.
Leaning forward slightly, his eyes carried an overwhelming authority.
The pressure in that gaze crushed every word Balon had been about to say.
"You only need to answer one thing."
His voice was cold and absolute.
"Yes. Or no?"
The question was concise and direct.
Clearly, the Prince Regent had no interest in hearing excuses—only the result of the act.
Balon's teeth ground together with a harsh clack. His fists tightened at his sides.
But he had indeed been the first to strike. Everyone on Steel Street had witnessed it clearly. There was no denying it.
His chest rose and fell heavily before he finally lowered his head in reluctant defeat.
"…Yes."
Lance nodded at the answer and turned his gaze toward Janos Slynt.
"According to the laws of the realm, what punishment does such an act warrant?"
"That depends on how many punches he threw, Your Highness," Janos replied bluntly.
"One lash for each punch. Of course, the punishment cannot exceed seven lashes."
"If the number exceeds seven," he continued, "the offender loses a hand as compensation."
"And if Tobho Mott had been beaten to death, the attacker would be tried for murder and executed by hanging."
After finishing his explanation, Janos stepped back without another word.
The hall fell silent.
Every gaze settled on Balon Greyjoy.
"Balon only hit him once! That man was just too fragile!"
Before Balon could speak, Urrigon Greyjoy suddenly stepped forward, almost physically shielding his brother.
The young Ironborn's face flushed red with a mixture of fear and urgency as he spoke rapidly.
"That blacksmith cheated us first, Your Highness! You can send people to investigate. Since arriving in King's Landing, my brother and I have kept to ourselves like oysters clinging to a rock."
"I swear by the Drowned God, Balon never intended to cause trouble in the city!"
His desperate plea echoed across the hall, filled with a fervent hope for justice.
But Lance merely narrowed his eyes.
His cold gaze fixed on the nearly frantic Urrigon.
"Lying in front of me can cost you your tongue, boy."
"The injuries on Tobho Mott's body—both their number and their severity—could never have been caused by just one punch."
Urrigon's neck stiffened. He shrank slightly, eyes darting to the floor.
Most of his courage seemed to drain away in an instant.
Yet despite the tremor in his legs, he stubbornly refused to step back.
The silence in the hall became suffocating.
Then—
Thump.
A large hand landed on Urrigon's shoulder.
The hand was rough, the knuckles thick with calluses and scars earned from years of fighting at sea.
Urrigon stiffened and turned to look at his brother.
Balon's face no longer carried the earlier fury.
Instead, there was a grim determination.
"I didn't count the punches," he said hoarsely.
"But it was definitely more than seven, Prince Regent Lance Lot."
"I beat that damned swindler, and I don't regret it."
"But this has nothing to do with my brother, Urrigon."
With that, he pulled Urrigon behind him again and shouted with all his strength:
"I, Balon Greyjoy, accept the punishment I deserve!"
"Bold."
After a brief silence, Lance's gaze lingered on Balon's stubborn face.
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly in quiet praise.
But instead of ordering Janos to carry out the punishment, Lance turned toward the man who had remained silent all this time—
Ser Manly Stokeworth.
From the moment they had entered the hall, Manly had said nothing.
Yet Lance could clearly feel the man's gaze lingering on him.
Or rather—
On the chair beneath him.
"What do you think, Commander Manly?"
Lance finally spoke, breaking the silence.
A faint, amused smile appeared on his lips as he addressed him.
He even emphasized the word "commander."
"Ah?"
Manly raised his head in confusion and instinctively glanced at the chair Lance was sitting in.
"On Steel Street earlier, weren't you strongly opposed to arresting these two honorable Greyjoys?"
Lance leaned forward slightly, resting an elbow casually on the armrest.
"Now that he has confessed and is about to lose a hand as punishment, do you have anything to say?"
"Or perhaps…"
"Whatever money they gave you was only enough to buy a little favor in public—just a few words on the street?"
The moment those words were spoken, every eye in the hall snapped toward Manly.
Lance's tone was heavy—almost openly accusing him of accepting bribes.
Manly was a righteous knight, that much was true.
But his wife was another matter entirely.
Lance had heard long ago that she often used the commander's name to collect money outside—sometimes even taking payment without doing anything in return.
Previously, Lance had simply turned a blind eye.
He had too many matters to deal with, and Manly had always supported him loyally.
Today seemed like a good chance to give the man a warning—perhaps prompt him to deal with that greedy wife of his.
But what Lance did not expect—
Was the utterly baffled expression on Manly's face.
Not just him.
Even Balon and Urrigon stared blankly at one another.
Their expressions practically said:
You bribed him?
No—didn't you?
When did I ever give him money?
Looking at his younger brother's wide, innocent eyes, Balon realized Urrigon clearly didn't possess the brains for bribery.
Which only deepened his own confusion.
Did I bribe him?
Or… did I somehow forget?
"I didn't!"
Manly suddenly stepped forward and roared.
His face was red with rage, veins bulging at his temples.
The accusation struck directly at his honor.
To a man who prided himself on being an upright knight, being accused of taking bribes from Ironborn was an insult beyond bearing.
"I, Manly Stokeworth!"
He shouted with all his strength.
"I swear before the Seven and the Iron Throne that I have never taken even a single damned gold dragon from them!"
"I swear on the honor of House Stokeworth—if I speak a single lie, may the gods condemn me to the Seven Hells!"
Silence filled the hall once more.
Lance sat on the stone seat, his fingers pausing in their slow tapping.
A hint of genuine surprise flickered in his blue eyes.
He knew Manly well.
Such an explosive reaction—staking everything on his honor—suggested something more complicated was at play.
"Oh?"
Lance's tone rose slightly, breaking the tension.
He tapped his fingers lightly against the armrest and narrowed his eyes.
"Then I am curious."
"You, Ser Manly Stokeworth, bear responsibility for maintaining order in King's Landing and upholding the laws of the realm."
"When you clearly saw violence occur, and Captain Janos was lawfully carrying out an arrest—why were you so eager to protect these two men from the Iron Islands?"
"And furthermore…"
"You said something rather interesting."
Manly's face drained from red to pale.
He knew exactly what Lance meant.
His lips moved slightly, but no words came out.
Lance did not press him.
He simply sat there calmly, tapping the armrest.
Waiting.
Waiting for Manly to answer himself.
A knight who had always supported him without hesitation…
Why had he suddenly said on the street:
"Even if the Prince Regent returned, I would still…"
It made no sense.
The rhythmic tapping echoed in the hall.
Each knock seemed to strike directly against Manly's heart.
Finally, after a long moment, he took a deep breath and lifted his head.
"You trust Janos Slynt too much, Your Highness."
His voice trembled—but it carried conviction.
"If you had entrusted power to truly honorable knights like Ser Balman Byrch or Ser Willem Darry, that would be another matter."
"But that man…"
He pointed sharply at Janos.
"He has no talent whatsoever!"
"He doesn't understand city defenses. He can barely even hold a sword!"
"The only thing he's good at is wagging that greasy tongue—flattering you and Lord Kevan Lannister like a lapdog!"
"To seize power, he has repeatedly bypassed me and reported directly to Lord Kevan. To him, the commander who earned this position on the battlefield is nothing more than a decoration!"
Manly swept his gaze across the hall.
Several Gold Cloaks lowered their heads, avoiding his eyes.
Their silent reaction only fueled his anger.
"And worse," he continued, voice rising, "he openly accepts bribes!"
"Anyone who pays gets a position in the Watch—even butchers and male prostitutes!"
"The Gold Cloaks are now filled with street thugs and scum!"
"If this continues, the City Watch will become nothing more than a parasite feeding off King's Landing!"
No one dared speak.
Balon Greyjoy gave a quiet, amused snort.
Across the Seven Kingdoms, everyone called the Ironborn savage and dishonorable.
But it seemed corruption existed everywhere.
The Ironborn were simply more honest about it.
Meanwhile, Janos Slynt stared at Manly in disbelief.
"Your Highness!"
With a shriek, Janos stumbled forward.
"Slander! He's slandering me!"
"Yes, I took money and arranged for many people to join the Watch—but every coin went into the Gold Cloaks' funds!"
"For weapons! For armor repairs!"
"Even if he's my superior, he can't smear me like this!"
"I swear on my mother's grave before the Seven—I never pocketed a single gold dragon!"
"To prove my innocence, I demand a duel!"
Lance almost laughed.
A duel? With him?
He knew exactly what kind of man Janos Slynt was.
In the original timeline, once he became commander, he would greedily extort money—even forcing officers to surrender part of their wages.
But here, things were different.
Janos had carried out Lance's orders faithfully.
And every coin he collected had indeed gone toward the City Watch's operations.
Your swordsmanship is pathetic, Lance thought.
Stay in your lane.
"So by your reasoning…"
Lance turned back to Manly, blue eyes fixed on him.
"This situation is actually my mistake, Ser Manly?"
Though calm on the surface, Lance had clearly heard the dissatisfaction in Manly's words.
But it puzzled him.
When Lance first took command of the Gold Cloaks, Manly had supported him without hesitation.
What had changed in just one week?
Still, Lance concealed his thoughts.
"Perhaps next time I should consult my commander before making decisions."
His tone remained calm.
Almost respectful.
As though a wise ruler were sincerely seeking advice.
Manly misunderstood completely.
Finally!
The Prince Regent had realized his mistake and acknowledged Manly Stokeworth's wisdom in front of everyone!
"That is exactly what a wise ruler should do, Your Highness!"
Manly declared loudly.
To demonstrate his authority and loyalty, he immediately took action.
Turning toward Janos, he proclaimed:
"In the name of the Prince Regent—"
"I hereby sentence Janos Slynt to death for corruption!"
Gasps erupted across the hall.
Janos nearly collapsed in despair.
But before he could beg for mercy—
Lance's voice sounded again.
"Really?"
His tone carried faint amusement.
"You can directly sentence him to death?"
"No need for judgment by the Master of Laws?"
"Of course!"
Manly answered without hesitation.
"I am the Commander of the City Watch. I naturally have the authority to judge my subordinates!"
The hall fell silent.
Even the Gold Cloaks stared at him in disbelief.
Balon Greyjoy shook his head.
Time seemed to stretch.
Then—
A soft chuckle escaped Lance's throat.
"Commander?"
He spoke lightly.
"I'm sorry."
"You aren't anymore."