The next morning.
Leo showed up at the Red Keep training yard at the exact same time as always, already sweating through his drills.
Barristan, on duty that day, made a point of swinging by. He saw the young foreigner working hard and gave a small, approving nod.
He had already heard that King Robert dragged Leo to Silk Street the night before. Barristan had expected the kid to sleep in, still half-drunk and wrapped up in wine and women like everyone else.
Instead, the guards told him Leo had been out here jogging and warming up before dawn, same as every other day.
Rare, Barristan thought. Talented and disciplined. You don't see that every day.
He turned and headed toward Silk Street to relieve the two Kingsguard watching over the still-sleeping king.
Leo finished his sword forms and moved on to sparring with the guards Barristan had assigned him.
A while later another man stepped into the yard and stood watching with quiet interest.
Leo knocked his training partner flat with a clean thrust, then turned and recognized the newcomer immediately: Varys. The bald, soft-bodied Master of Whisperers, hands tucked into his sleeves, wearing that gentle, harmless smile.
"Ser Neo, you are quite possibly the most disciplined young man I have ever met."
When Leo finished, Varys walked over. The guard bowed quickly to both of them and left.
Leo wiped down the blunted sword and racked it. "Lord Varys."
"I am no lord," Varys said with a warm smile. "I serve only the king and hold no noble title. Varys is fine."
"Becoming a member of the Small Council proves you're no ordinary man. Calling you 'lord' feels right to me." Leo returned the smile. "What can I do for you?"
"Nothing urgent," Varys said. "I was simply passing by, saw you training, and remembered all the stories about your dedication. I thought it was time we were properly introduced—as friends."
Friends. Right.
Leo laughed inwardly. One schemer after another. Didn't these people have actual work?
If Littlefinger was the most dangerous man in King's Landing, Varys was right there beside him.
From the first time Leo saw the Spider on screen, he'd pegged him as slippery. Varys's loyalties always felt impossible to pin down. One moment he seemed to help the heroes, the next he was quietly working for the other side. He'd aided Ned, helped Tyrion, then turned on them when it suited him. Early on he was scheming in the Red Keep's underbelly with Illyrio. Later he jumped ship to Daenerys. In the end he got roasted by dragonfire while pretending to be the realm's last patriot.
If you only watched the show it was hard to say if he was good or evil.
One thing was certain: when push came to shove, Varys always put his own skin and his own interests first. He'd sell out a friend without blinking.
Leo had learned the full truth later from a book spoiler video. Varys and his old friend Illyrio were running a massive long-game conspiracy to put a "fake dragon" on the Iron Throne and restore the Targaryens. The show had butchered it and gave him a rushed ending.
Bottom line: the friendly eunuch was every bit as dangerous as Littlefinger.
He just hid it better.
"It would be an honor to call you friend," Leo said, letting a touch of surprised pleasure show on his face.
"Still… I'm just a foreign nobody. You're on the Small Council. Why single me out?"
"Actually, you and I are the same kind of man," Varys said softly. He told his own story—how he had come from Essos across the Narrow Sea, a foreigner who had climbed to his current position step by step.
Here we go again.
Did you people all take the same damn class?
Leo kept his expression politely attentive.
"…Many of the great houses of Westeros are proud, stubborn, and obsessed with their ancestors' glory. They don't like outsiders gaining a foothold. People like us—foreigners—should watch each other's backs if we want to survive their blades, both the ones we see and the ones we don't."
Varys had reached the real point.
"Makes sense," Leo said after pretending to think it over. He nodded. "If you ever need anything from me, Lord Varys, just say the word. And I hope you'll do the same if I run into trouble."
Varys smiled. "If you can truly befriend a broken creature like me, I will never disappoint you."
Then, smoothly changing the subject, he asked, "King Robert invited you to Silk Street last night. I imagine you ran into Lord Petyr. What did you two talk about?"
Leo blinked. Spider really does know everything.
Still, it wasn't shocking. Brothels were information gold mines, and Varys owned half the ears in the city.
"Nothing important," Leo said casually. "We talked about exchanging my homeland coins for dragons so I can spend them here. Lord Petyr complimented the craftsmanship and said if I ever needed help I should come to him."
Every word was true. He just left out the important parts.
Varys studied him for a long moment with those sharp little eyes. Leo kept a perfectly blank, honest face.
Finally Varys smiled again. "Lord Petyr is indeed a very helpful man. Just… be careful. He rarely does anything without calculating the profit first. I'll say no more. You'll understand the longer you stay in King's Landing."
"And one last piece of advice—in King's Landing, trust no one."
There it is.
Same teacher. Same damn script.
Leo kept the pleasant mask on while thinking: You two are the exact people I shouldn't trust.
They chatted a few minutes longer before Varys drifted away.
Leo stood alone in the yard and exhaled.
This city is way too deep.