Ever since Robb Stark captured Jaime Lannister in the Whispering Wood, the Northern army had remained in the Riverlands, waiting to negotiate terms with House Lannister.
With his family safe in Winterfell, the Riverlands no longer under immediate threat, and the Kingslayer in his hands, Robb had no desire to keep fighting the southerners.
Eddard Stark would have marched south to support Stannis Baratheon's claim out of honor. But Robb and the pragmatic Northern lords saw things differently. With three kings now fighting over the Iron Throne, they planned to withdraw behind the Neck and wait for the Baratheons to finish bleeding each other dry before choosing a side.
Roman took full advantage of the ceasefire to accelerate construction around the Gods Eye.
"Old Tywin will retreat to the Westerlands soon," Roman murmured over a map. "I cannot let him move his troops comfortably."
The only major road left to Tywin was the Goldroad, but it meant crossing a tributary of the Gods Eye that flowed into the Blackwater Rush.
With the Riverlands back under control, Tywin faced a grim choice: send grain to starving King's Landing and let his own people go hungry, or keep the food in the Westerlands and let the capital suffer.
Roman also suspected Stannis would soon use his shadow assassin to eliminate Renly.
As he studied the map, Fili arrived with steaming tea and fresh-baked snacks.
"Lord Roman!" she said cheerfully, setting the tray down. "The Ministry of Agriculture reports that Mr. Wilson has bred new disease- and pest-resistant wheat varieties from wild magical plants. They're perfect for the Crownlands' farmland."
Roman caught the sweet smell of cake and smiled. "Fili, you've been sneaking desserts from the kitchens again, haven't you? Aren't you worried about gaining weight?"
"Me?" Fili gasped, pretending to be offended. "I control my portions perfectly. My figure will stay exactly as it is!"
Amid the light domestic teasing, Roman turned serious.
"Fili, do you think we should send food aid to King's Landing?"
She paused mid-pour, confused. "My lord… aren't we at war with the Lannisters? Wouldn't sending grain help our enemy?"
Roman shook his head and explained his strategy.
"If my goal was to take King's Landing right now, I would cut off their supplies and besiege them. But our main objective is to consolidate and expand our territory. King's Landing is no longer a priority."
He tapped the map. "Both Stannis and Renly plan to attack the capital. No matter which stag wins, we won't be able to expand as freely afterward. So I intend to let King's Landing survive longer — to keep all three sides bleeding."
Fili thought for a moment, then nodded. "I understand. It's a proxy war. How much food should we prepare?"
Roman flicked her forehead gently. "We don't have that much surplus yet. We can only send what we can spare. Don't forget — King's Landing has over five hundred thousand mouths to feed."
"Prepare visible shipments for one or two months," he ordered. "Send them in the name of House Whent. Make sure the merchants spread the slogan 'For the People.' Let it echo through the city."
Fili scratched her head, then patted her chest confidently. "Leave it to me, my lord. I'll handle the logistics perfectly."
King's Landing – The Red Keep
News soon spread through the Red Keep that House Whent was sending subsidized food aid to the starving people of King's Landing. Kevan and Tyrion Lannister hurried to the meeting chamber to discuss it.
"Roman Rivers is sending grain under his house's name, but his merchants are already spreading propaganda while the ships are still sailing," Kevan groaned, rubbing his temples. "I fear there's an ulterior motive."
Tyrion stroked his beard thoughtfully. "He's offering temporary aid, not resuming full trade, so we remain at war. As for any conspiracy… we have no choice but to accept the grain. Stannis and Renly are closing in. We need a fed populace if we're to survive the coming battle."
Kevan nodded grimly. "Perhaps he simply wants us to hold out longer against the Baratheon brothers so he can keep conquering new lands unchecked."
Tyrion gave a bitter smile. "Even if we see through his plan, what good does it do? Father has already been driven back to the Westerlands in defeat, and Barristan's Vanguard wiped out many of our noble heirs on the Goldroad."
The only silver lining was that neither the North, the Riverlands, nor Harrenhal seemed interested in claiming the Iron Throne themselves.
But will that last? Tyrion wondered.
House Tully and House Stark only cared about their own regions. Roman Rivers was different. If he continued building his industrialized realm at this pace, he would soon become an uncrowned emperor of the continent.
"Ha! Why worry so far ahead?" Tyrion muttered, pouring himself wine. "Better to solve the immediate bloody problem first."
He took a deep drink of Arbor red, the sour taste hitting hard. In a rare moment of private satisfaction, he thought of his father.
Father… you arrogant old lion, have you finally met your match? Even the golden lion has had its fangs broken by the Dragon. I'd love to see how you try to uphold House Lannister's glory now.
Deep down, the Imp felt genuinely grateful to Roman for humiliating Tywin. Tywin had always despised him, and Tyrion had always hated Tywin in return. Yet he still craved his father's approval. Seeing Tywin publicly humbled brought Tyrion a strange, bittersweet joy.
King's Landing – The Port
Under the strict guard of Tyrion and Kevan Lannister, the Vanguard cargo ships bearing House Whent's nine-bat emblem docked slowly in the harbor, surrounded by desperate crowds of soldiers and civilians.
Roman's agents had already spread word of the aid. Tyrion and Kevan had been forced to increase security to prevent riots or looting.
As bags of golden grain were unloaded and inspected by the City Watch, the crowd erupted in cheers.
"Finally, food from the Gods!" a starving baker wept. "The street children have been dying of hunger, and so many have fallen to the bloody flux!"
"Praise the Mother!" an old woman cried. "We thank Lord Roman for his kindness — sending food even while we're at war!"
"Lord Kevan! Lord Tyrion!" the crowd shouted. "How will the food be distributed? How much will we commoners actually receive?"
"You really think that twisted dwarf will share it fairly?" a blacksmith spat. "He'll probably hoard it all for his whores…"
Listening to the hostile murmurs, Kevan and Tyrion felt suffocating pressure.
The actual amount of grain was not enormous — it would ease the immediate crisis but not last long. Yet they could not deny Roman's terrifying skill at psychological warfare. The people of King's Landing were now cheering their enemy.
Of course, Roman only did this because Cersei and Joffrey had gone mad. Any rational ruler would never have turned a powerful son-in-law into such a dangerous foe.
As they supervised distribution, fresh military reports arrived: the Harrenhal Vanguard had already reached Oldtown.
The ancient port city would soon face its own fateful choice.
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