Chapter 28: Developments of King Joffrey

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  It had been nearly a week of hunting in Kingswood and its nearby region, although mostly the tter since I didn’t want to enter the Veryon House again. I’d not have any excuses if I entered them again, so I roamed the free fields around the area instead. Needless to say, that meant my levels grew far slower sihere were only livestod occasional wolves outside the forest.

  But I was Level 23 now, and that was much better than when I’d left for King’s Landing.

  Now, I roag the t walls of the city again. The sight was familiar even if I’d only seen it on ret times. Perhaps that was also why it felt suffog. Its chaotic, filthy streets stretched out before me as I passed through the gates, the bck wig itchy against my scalp.

  Ever since my Valyrian blood strengthened a week ago, my silver hair had bee a liability. Wearing the wig felt like a necessary annoyance, but it was one I begrudgingly accepted.

  Thankfully, the guards barely paid me any attention as I blended into the crowd.

  Or so I thought.

  “Oi, you,” a familiar voice called, stopping me in my tracks.

  I teurning to see her than Bronn, the sellsword-turned-ander of the city watch. His sharp eyes swept over me, narrowing slightly before a sly grin spread across his face.

  “Don’t I know you?” Bronn drawled, his tone half-serious, half-mog. “You’re that fel who hangs about with the priestess, yeah? Nyra, was it?”

  I forced a casual smile, my hand twitg slightly as I adjusted the bag slung over my shoulder. “Ah, yes. That is the case. I’ve been traveling for a bit, trying to do some odd jobs for .”

  Bronn chuckled, stepping closer. “Aye? What, you got bored of that bombshell priestess already? Or did she kick you out? Seems a waste to leave someone like her all alone.”

  I shrugged, masking my irritation with a faint smirk. “Let’s just say I’ve had my reasons. And you seem to have moved up in the world, Bronn.” I gestured to the man’s armor, the insignia of the city watch polished to a gleam.

  Bronn grinned, clearly enjoying the pliment. “Aye, well. Someone’s gotta keep this city from tearing itself apart. Might as well be me.” He stepped aside, wavihrough. “Go on, then. Don’t let me keep you. But if I were you, I’d keep a. City’s… not as friendly as it used to be.”

  I nodded, my steps measured as I passed. Relief washed over me as Bronn didn’t press further. I was gd to put some distaween us. “Phew,” I muttered under my breath as I slipped deeper into the city, heading straight for my small mansion.

  Whether he noticed the wig and chose not to ent or simply missed it, I wasn’t sure. The Iory had been invaluable for st the wig and other ies, but I was growing tired of relying on it.

  ****

  The mansion was eerily quiet when I arrived. I pushed open the door, my brows furrowing as I called out. “Kinvara? Nymeria? Tyene? Anyone?”

  The ck of response grated on my nerves. Kinvara, as usual, was off somewhere doing her “priestess work.” endable, I supposed, but damnably inve. And the Martell girls? Likely wandering the city, oblivious to the risks.

  I sighed, pulling off the wig and tossing it onto a chair. “A wig,” I muttered to myself, running a hand through my hair. “A Targaryen, reduced to wearing a wig like some on actor. Ridiculous.”

  Of course, it hadn’t been an issue before, but since I had a better alternative—Kinvara’s magic—it felt a little insulting. The modern man in me k was a stupid thing to feel, but the Viserys in me disagreed.

  With nothier to do, my thoughts turo Ros. The brothel was a short walk away, and visiting her would be a good way to kill time, plus it was close to the time that I secured her loyalty. I put on the wig once again.

  I slipped through the crowd filled streets, and found myself in front of Littlefinger’s Brothel. The brothel was lively when I walked in, the chatter of girls and the occasional burst of ughter filling the air, though something about the energy felt subdued. The whores’ ughter felt forced today. As I stepped ihe noise shifted.

  Some of the ughter dimmed, and heads turard me with expressiing from curiosity to uhe st of heavy perfume mixed with alcohol hung in the air like a haze, and I searched for the familiar girls through it.

  One of the girls, again the same blonde who had teased me before, blinked in surprise when she caught sight of me. Except today, she didn’t look very delighted. Her expression was something more subdued.

  “Hey, you,” I called, and she blinked.

  "Ah… I’ll call Rht away," she said, her voice quieter than usual. She turned and scurried off, leavio survey the room.

  Somethi off. There was an eerie undercurrent, a tension in the air that was hard to ignore, as if everyone was waiting for something to g. Was King’s Landing going through such harsh times? The vibrant chaos of the brothel felt muted today, it was like a painting stripped of its color.

  Moments ter, Ros came rushing out, her expression solemn, though it lit up when she saw me. Before I could speak, she grabbed my arm, her voice urgent. “Let’s head to a room. Now.”

  I raised a brow but followed her without protest. Onside, Ros locked the door behind us before turning, her face pale, her hands trembling. Before I could ask, she threw herself into my arms, her body shaking as she g to me.

  Isn’t this girl being way too gy? That’s not good given how our retionship will ge soon, I noted as I parted my lips. “Ros?” I asked, keeping my voice calm but edged with . “What happened?”

  She pulled back just enough to look at me, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I… I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I didn’t want to… but I couldn’t stop it.”

  “Stop what?” I pressed, my tone firm but not unkind.

  Ros took a shaky breath, her words tumbling out in a rush. “Littlefinger sent me and Daisy, my friend, to… to eain King Joffrey.”

  I scowled, and she tinued, her eyes trembling as if feariion. “I tried to refuse, I swear, but he wouldn’t hear it. Said it was my ‘st active job’ before my promotion.” By promotion, she must mean the position of an assistant, and not that of a madame, as that’d already happened. Her voice cracked, and she buried her fa her hands. “I’m sorry I had to take it. But don’t worry…. I didn’t have to sleep with him. Somehow, I’m not happy about that. Because Joffrey—he… he made me hurt her. Daisy. He made me beat her, and now she’s… she’s barely alive. She’s dying! Her bones are broken, her body wounded, and Lord Baelish is not even b to save her. She won’t st the night.”

  A flicker of annoyairred withi at Ros, but at the situation. I khis se from the show, and it was every bit as disgusting iy. But I forced myself to remain posed. “And you? Did he…?”

  “No,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “He didn’t hurt me. He just… watched. He made me hurt her and watched.”

  Watched, eh? Fug retard. A part of me wao tie him up in a chair and make him watch me with his wife, but as, poor Sansa didn’t deserve such a fate.

  I exhaled, resting my hands on her shoulders aiearful gaze. “It’s going to be alright,” I said, my voice steady. “We’ll save her.”

  Ros looked at me as I yanked out a pouch. “Take this. This much should be enough to get your friend treated from a great Healer,” I said.

  Her eyes widened. “No, I… I ’t take your money. I—you went out and risked your life for this job, I ’t take your money!”

  “It’s not for you,” I interrupted. “It’s for her. Take it. Use it to get her help. Your friend’s life is more important than my money, Ros.”

  She hesitated, her hands trembling as I pressed the pouch of s into them. Finally, she nodded, her voice barely a whisper. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  I gave her a reassuring smile, though inwardly, my mind was already pnning my move. Although I hated that twat, Joffrey, his as would only make things easier. Oh, how well-timed this situation was. Not only was her hate for Joffrey at an all-time high, but the same went for Littlefinger, for refusing to treat one of his workers who was dying.

  It was time to strike, for the iron was very hot.

  “And Ros,” I said, my tone softening, “tomorrow m, I’m taking you out of King’s Landing. Tend to your friend tonight, and be ready to leave by dawn.”

  She blinked, surprised. “Leave? Where?”

  I smiled, a touystery in my expression. “I have something to show you. And tomorrow night… sider it the dinner date I promised you.”

  Ros stared at me, her tear-streaked face softening into something almost hopeful. “Alright,” she whispered.

  I nodded, my mind already turning to the opportunities ahead. “Good. Now go. Save her life.”

  As Ros left the room, clutg the pouch of s, I allowed myself a small, private smirk. One more piece moved into pce.

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