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Ramsay stood on the docks of Torrhen's Square. Beside him, Lord Helman Tallhart wished him well. "Lord Ramsay, I wish you a safe journey on this mission. Once the war is won, we will drink together in celebration."
"Lord Helman, thank you for escorting me all this way. Ha, then it's settled. When the time comes, we will drink together."
Ramsay flashed that charming smile of his and nodded in reply.
Torrhen's Square sat beside a large lake southwest of Winterfell, only two days away on horseback.
On the same day Ramsay accepted the mission, Lord Helman had escorted him with troops and sent a raven ahead to arrange a merchant ship bound for Lordsport on Pyke.
With that, Ramsay took more than a dozen trusted men with him and turned to board the small sailing merchant vessel waiting at the dock.
Once the ship set sail, he waved farewell to Lord Helman. Then he turned around, and his warm smile vanished, his expression darkening like a storm cloud.
Beside him, his trusted retainer, Alyn, asked, "My lord, the King in the North has legitimized you as a Bolton, shown you favor, and entrusted you with the important mission of going to the Iron Islands. Why do you seem unhappy?"
Ramsay shook his head and said, "Legitimizing my name was part of the bargain between him and me from the start.
"He is using this chance to announce to the northern nobles that anyone who earns merit for him will receive the proper reward.
"And this mission to the Iron Islands is not as simple as you imagine.
"If he truly wanted to form an alliance with Balon Greyjoy, then Theon Greyjoy, the hostage, would be the best choice to show good faith. Not me."
Ramsay turned his head and looked in the direction of Winterfell, then continued.
"He does not trust me. The thousand new recruits I worked so hard to train were taken from me under a perfectly reasonable pretext.
"And at the Dreadfort, that damned Sam is still holding me back."
"My lord, then... what should we do?"
"Do everything we can to complete this mission, of course. The journey there and back will take more than half a month.
"By then, we will see whether this King in the North can keep winning until the very end... or whether..."
King's Landing, the throne room of the Red Keep.
Joffrey, who had been crowned a month earlier, wore a golden crown set with rubies and black diamonds. He was dressed in royal garments embroidered with gold thread, and in his hands, he toyed with an exquisite crossbow.
Cersei, now formally Queen Regent, sat one step below him to his right. Jaime, who had stepped down from the Kingsguard and now wore the Hand of the King's pin on his chest, sat on his left.
Sandor, newly raised to the Kingsguard, stood behind them with Ser Meryn and the other White Cloaks, all of them stiffly at attention.
"Your Grace, according to the reports we received today, after Renly Baratheon and Stannis Baratheon, the northern nobles at Winterfell have also raised Robb Stark as King in the North."
Standing below the Iron Throne, Varys reported the latest news to Joffrey in his distinctive soft tone.
"Bastards! Those traitors should all be hacked apart and fed to the dogs!"
The moment Varys finished speaking, Joffrey's temper flared, and he burst into curses.
Jaime, who had never wanted to leave the Kingsguard but had eventually given in after Cersei's relentless coaxing, sighed inwardly at his son's temper. Then he tilted his head toward Joffrey and said clearly, "Your Grace, there are now three traitors claiming crowns, and we happen to sit at the center of all three threats.
"The most urgent matter now is to win over more lords willing to submit to you."
"Mm. The Hand is quite right. Do you have any good suggestions?"
Seeing that Joffrey had no intention of thinking for himself at all, Jaime shook his head inwardly and continued, "House Tully of the Riverlands and House Arryn of the Vale have always stood together with House Stark.
"The Tyrells of the Reach and the nobles of the Stormlands support Renly, while Stannis has House Florent and the royal fleet on Dragonstone.
"So, at present, the only house we can truly try to win over is House Martell of Dorne."
"My lord Hand, may I say a word?"
As soon as Jaime finished speaking, Baelish suddenly spoke from below the throne. When Jaime nodded his permission, he continued.
"Lady Lysa of the Vale and I grew up together. We have always been close. With your leave, I am prepared to go to the Vale and persuade her to submit to the true king."
"Good, Baelish. If you can make the Vale submit to me, I will reward you with a castle and lands of your own."
Joffrey was pleased by Baelish's words and immediately made him a generous promise.
"Thank you for your generosity, Your Grace. I will certainly do my utmost to persuade her. But as for Lady Lysa's reward for submitting..."
Baelish immediately bowed and thanked Joffrey, then continued speaking.
As he finished, he turned toward Cersei, who sat silently to the side.
"Heh. Lord Baelish, if House Arryn sends troops to aid us in defeating all the traitors, then she may take whatever she wishes from the vast lands of the North.
"At the same time, her son, Robin Arryn, will receive a seat on the small council."
Cersei knew Baelish was waiting for her to state her position. A faint smile touched her beautiful face as she spoke.
"The Vale sending troops to aid us? I think that is unlikely. As far as I know, some of the nobles of the Vale have always wanted to join House Stark's side.
"In my view, if Lady Lysa can suppress them and remain neutral, that alone should count as service to Your Grace."
Baelish had no intention of promising to persuade Lysa to send troops. He made the distinction with a smile.
"Lord Baelish, please set out as soon as possible and go persuade Lady Lysa.
"No matter the final result, His Grace will remember your service and reward you accordingly."
Jaime spoke directly, settling the matter.
"Yes, my lord Hand. I will set out tomorrow for the Vale."
"Lord Baelish, come to Maegor's Holdfast later. I need your help with a small matter."
"Yes, Your Grace."
Late that night, at the docks on the Blackwater Rush.
A short man in a black cloak stood quietly facing a medium-sized, flat-bottomed merchant ship moored by the river.
After a short while, a pretty red-haired woman led over a mother carrying an infant and said, "Lord Baelish, Mhaegen and the child are here."
Baelish turned at the sound and smiled. "Ros, thank you. You may go back first."
Ros, the whore who had come to King's Landing from Winterfell and caught Baelish's eye, nodded to him and turned to leave.
"Lord Baelish, is what you said true? The Queen Regent will kill all of Robert's bastards?"
After Ros left, Mhaegen, who was holding Robert's bastard daughter, spoke softly to Baelish.
"Of course it is true. That is why I was in such a hurry to send you away. Take the child to her uncle. He will protect you.
"And remember to pass the secret letter I gave you to King Stannis."
Baelish answered with a serious expression.
"If we leave, won't the Queen Regent blame you?"
"Did you not notice that another mother and her daughter were moved into your room today? Do not worry about me. You should hurry and go."
"A-all right!"
Baelish watched Mhaegen board the merchant ship. As it disappeared into the distance, he turned and left for his next destination.
That night, Baelish sent away two of Robert's bastards. One went by sea to Dragonstone, and the other went down the Roseroad to Highgarden.
With them went Baelish's goodwill toward two kings.
The next day, in King's Landing, large numbers of Gold Cloaks poured into the streets and began hunting Robert's bastards throughout the city.
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