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The fight in the training yard kept raging.
Leo had already thrown everything he had at Barristan—and still couldn't touch him.
He even tried his dirty trick: triggering [Slam] to use his insane Strength, the skill bonus, and the razor edge of the Grand Marshal's greatsword to just hack straight through Barristan's blade.
Barristan had seen it coming. With perfect technique he deflected the blow, turning Leo's power against him and avoiding a shattered sword.
Leo felt like a lion trying to bite a porcupine—nowhere to sink his teeth.
Barristan, for his part, was quietly amazed. The boy's growth in just two months was unreal. At this rate, Leo would one day surpass even him.
But right now the kid was still a little green.
After making sure Leo had truly gone all-out with nothing held back, Barristan waited for the perfect opening. He flicked Leo's sword aside and thrust his own blade straight at the younger man's throat, stopping a few inches short.
Leo knew he was beaten. He raised both hands with a helpless grin. "I yield. Teacher, you really are the greatest swordsman in the Seven Kingdoms."
Barristan smiled and lowered his blade. "The greatest swordsman was never me. Against Ser Arthur Dayne I would have had no chance. A shame… he's gone now."
Leo knew exactly who Barristan meant—Arthur Dayne, the legendary Sword of the Morning, widely considered the pinnacle of martial skill in Westeros. He had died at the Tower of Joy alongside Ser Gerold Hightower, fighting Ned Stark's men.
Barristan patted Leo's armored shoulder. "You did well. In just two short months you've come this far. It's astonishing. Congratulations—you've passed my test. You have the skill to become a true knight."
Leo's eyes lit up. "Really? That's fantastic!"
Barristan's expression turned serious. "I only said your martial skill is worthy. A knight also needs loyalty and honor. If I ever hear you've done something dishonorable, I will personally take your head."
Leo straightened. "You have my word, teacher. That day will never come."
"Ha ha ha! I heard all of that!" Robert boomed as he strode over, thumping Leo's chest plate with a meaty fist. "Congratulations, Ser Neo! You've earned the approval of the legendary Barristan the Bold!"
The rest of the crowd stepped forward with congratulations.
Leo thanked them, his gaze landing on Jaime. The Kingslayer stayed silent and aloof, but when their eyes met he gave the smallest nod.
Leo returned it. Message received.
"Congratulations, Your Grace," Littlefinger said smoothly. "Gaining the loyalty of a talented young man like Ser Neo only proves how strong the Seven Kingdoms have become under your rule." He paused, then added, "It does seem a waste, though, for such an excellent warrior to have no official position in which to serve you. Why not settle the matter today?"
Robert nodded. "You're right. But what post should we give him?" He turned to Leo. "Any thoughts, Neo?"
Leo had glanced at Littlefinger the moment the suggestion came up. The man was untrustworthy, but he knew how to create opportunities for his "allies"—especially when it helped his own power base.
Littlefinger answered with an enigmatic little smile.
Leo's pulse quickened. I get to pick my own job? What should I ask for?
Hand of the King? Impossible. The Small Council already had its seven members, and none of the seats were vacant.
He honestly didn't know the other official titles well enough to suggest anything specific, so he kicked the ball back politely.
"Your Grace, in my homeland we have a saying: whether it thunders or rains, it is the gods' blessing, and we give thanks for whatever they grant. Whatever duty you believe suits me, I will gladly carry it out for you. I would never presume to ask for any particular office."
The pretty words made Robert grin.
Still, the king wasn't sure what to assign him. Normally he'd ask his Hand, Jon Arryn, but Jon wasn't here.
He looked to Littlefinger for a suggestion.
Littlefinger's eyes gleamed—he was ready to steer things his way.
Before he could speak, Queen Cersei cut in. "Your Grace, I have an excellent idea."
Robert turned, his face already darkening. He hated when she inserted herself into matters of state.
Cersei acted like she hadn't noticed. "Ser Neo's skill is plain for everyone to see. He even defeated Prince Joffrey's sworn shield, Ser Sandor, last month. With him watching over the prince, Joffrey's safety would be even more assured."
The Hound's scarred face twisted. He hadn't expected the conversation to swing his way.
Joffrey's eyes lit up. "Mother, are you saying we should replace the Hound?"
Leo felt like he'd been hit by lightning.
Me? Joffrey's personal attack dog?
I'd rather die.