The first night in King's Landing was restless.
Ethan barely slept. The city outside his window never truly went quiet — distant laughter, shouting, the creak of wagons, and the occasional scream echoed through the dark streets. Even the air felt different: warmer, heavier, carrying the constant scent of the sea mixed with something sour.
He rose before dawn, body still sore from the long journey. After washing his face in a basin of cold water, he checked his status.
Current Status:
Strength: 25
Agility: 25
Endurance: 24
Vitality: 22
Charisma: 26
Dragon Affinity: 9
Level: 11 (210/1800 EXP)
Small, steady numbers. No sudden jumps. It felt right.
He dressed in a clean black tunic and breeches, strapped on his sword, and stepped out into the corridor of the Tower of the Hand. The Red Keep was already stirring. Servants hurried past with trays of bread and pitchers of water. Guards in gold cloaks patrolled lazily.
Ethan made his way to the small courtyard used for morning training. Only a few men were there — mostly City Watch and a couple of younger knights. He began practicing the footwork he had learned from the training manual, repeating the same movements again and again until his muscles burned.
An hour later, Ser Rodrik Cassel found him.
"You're up early, Snow," the old master-at-arms said, stroking his whiskers. "Good. Lord Stark wants all the northern men to stay sharp. This place is a nest of vipers."
"I understand, ser."
Ser Rodrik watched him train for a while, correcting his elbow position and stance. "You've improved since Winterfell. Keep working. In this city, a man without a sharp blade and sharper mind doesn't last long."
Breakfast in the Great Hall
The Stark household ate together in a smaller hall reserved for the Hand's family. Ned Stark sat at the head of the table, looking tired and grim. Catelyn was beside him, her face tight with worry. Robb, Sansa, Arya, and Bran sat along the sides.
Ethan was allowed to sit at the lower end of the table with the senior guards — a sign of respect after saving Bran.
Sansa kept stealing glances at him. Every time their eyes met, she gave him a tiny, secret smile before looking down at her plate. Her cheeks stayed slightly pink the entire meal.
Ned spoke quietly but firmly. "We are guests here, but also servants of the realm. Be respectful. Be watchful. Do not trust easily. Especially not the Lannisters."
His gaze passed over Ethan for a moment, as if the warning included him too.
After breakfast, Ned called Ethan aside.
"You saved my son," Ned said in his low, serious voice. "I haven't forgotten. I will speak to the king about giving you a proper position — perhaps in the City Watch or as one of my personal guards. Until then, stay close to the tower. And stay away from trouble."
"Yes, my lord. Thank you."
As Ned walked away, Catelyn approached. She studied Ethan carefully.
"Sansa speaks highly of you," she said quietly. "Too highly, perhaps. She is young and full of dreams. I hope you remember your place, Ethan Snow."
There was no real hostility in her voice — only a mother's protective instinct. Ethan bowed his head respectfully.
"I know my place, my lady."
Catelyn nodded once and left.
Midday – The Royal Gardens
Ethan was given some free time to explore the outer parts of the Red Keep. He wandered toward the gardens, hoping the fresh air would clear his head.
The gardens were beautiful — colorful flowers, trimmed hedges, and fountains — but even here the tension of the court could be felt. Ladies walked in small groups, whispering behind fans. Knights and lords spoke in low voices.
That was when he saw her.
Margaery Tyrell.
She walked gracefully along a path lined with roses, accompanied by two handmaids and her grandmother, Olenna Tyrell (the Queen of Thorns), who sat in a wheeled chair. Margaery wore a light green gown that complemented her brown hair and warm eyes. She looked every bit as charming and intelligent as the rumors said.
As Ethan passed nearby, Margaery's gaze landed on him. She paused.
"You're one of the northerners, aren't you?" she asked with a pleasant smile. "The one they call Ethan Snow?"
Ethan stopped and bowed politely. "Yes, my lady."
Margaery's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "I heard you saved the young Stark boy from a fall. And that you fought well during the journey. You must tell me the story sometime."
Before Ethan could answer, the old Lady Olenna spoke in her sharp, raspy voice.
"Another handsome bastard. The capital is full of them these days." She looked him up and down. "Though this one has interesting eyes. Not quite northern."
Ethan kept his expression calm. "I was raised in the North, my lady."
Margaery smiled again, warmer this time. "Well, I hope we see more of you, Ethan Snow. King's Landing can be quite… lonely for those far from home."
[Margaery Tyrell Favorability: 22/100 (Interested & Curious)]
She gave him a graceful nod before continuing her walk. Ethan watched her go, noting how naturally she carried herself — like someone who already knew how to play the game.
Late Afternoon – Tower of the Hand
While returning to his room, Ethan found Sansa waiting near a quiet staircase, pretending to admire a tapestry.
She quickly pulled him into an alcove when no one was looking.
"I only have a moment," she whispered, breathing fast. "Mother and Septa Mordane are resting."
Their fourth kiss was deeper than the ones on the road. Sansa pressed herself against him, her hands clutching his shoulders. She kissed him with more confidence now, lips parting slightly. Ethan responded gently, one hand resting on her waist, the other cupping the back of her neck.
When they broke apart, Sansa's lips were slightly swollen and her eyes bright.
"I missed you," she said softly. "Even though we saw each other at breakfast."
"I missed you too."
She smiled shyly, then touched the silver streak in his hair that was becoming more visible. "This… it's new. It looks almost like the old Targaryen kings in the songs."
Ethan's heart skipped. "Just a strange birthmark."
Sansa didn't press. Instead, she leaned in and kissed him once more — quick and sweet — before slipping away with a whispered "Tonight, if I can."
[Sansa Stark Favorability: 74/100 (Strong Romantic Interest)]
Night
Ethan sat by his window, looking out over the flickering lights of King's Landing. The city felt alive and dangerous at the same time.
He opened the system and spent 150 SP on a Minor Perception Enhancement scroll. His senses became slightly sharper — he could now hear distant footsteps in the corridor more clearly.
Small progress. But every step counted.
Before sleeping, a new notification appeared:
[Side Quest Unlocked: Courtly Impressions] Make a positive impression on at least two major court figures within the next 10 days. Reward: 1200 EXP + Increased Reputation in King's Landing
Ethan leaned back against the wall, a quiet determination settling over him.
He was no longer in the safety of Winterfell. He was in the heart of the Game of Thrones.
And he would play it carefully — one conversation, one training session, one stolen kiss at a time.
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