The night was eerily quiet as Tywin and I waited for Kevan. After immediately sending for him on hearing of his return, I rushed back to my solar so we could talk in a more private place than the great hall.

  Tywin had wished to speak to his brother alone before I met him, but I cut that idea off right at the root. It was little things like this which reminded me that while Tywin was in my corner, he would never willingly relinquish his hold on power. Even if he were to tell me word by word of his conversation with Kevan, just by being the one to do so guaranteed he could control the flow of information, and therefore the narrative.

  Kevan’s failure in capturing Littlefinger was a Lannister failure by association. Tywin would’ve easily flipped the script on me and sold me a story which blamed someone else other than his brother, even if everything he said was rooted in the truth.

  My thoughts were interrupted as two quick raps came at the door before it creaked open. The hulking form of Ser Lyle stepped half-way into the room and bowed with his head. “Your Grace, Ser Kevan Lannister is without.”

  “Please let him in, Ser Lyle,” I said. Tywin stood stiffly by the bar to the other side of my desk, pretending to enjoy a glass of watered wine when in fact I could nearly see the racing thoughts jumping out of his brain.

  He would have to make a choice when I started asking the difficult questions. I wondered, would he throw his brother under the bus, or would he side with the man wearing the Lannister name?

  The Strongboar bobbed his head again, stepping further inside the room, and the next man who walked through the door wore a Lannister crimson cloak instead of kingsguard white.

  Kevan Lannister was a large man by all accounts, much different than his show counterpart. He stood as tall as Tywin in his red-enameled armor, but was much wider at the shoulders and waist. His gray-blond hair was slowly receding at the sides, and he kept his beard close-cropped to his jaw.

  “Your Grace,” he said, bowing to me first, then to Tywin. “My lord.”

  Tywin nodded to his brother. “Kevan,” he drawled.

  “Welcome to the capital, granduncle,” I said flatly. “I wish it were in better circumstances, but as you saw outside…”

  “Indeed,” Kevan said cautiously. He was perceptive enough to feel the tension in the room. “Flea Bottom is no more and a quarter of the city is gone. How did this come to happen?”

  “How do you think it happened, ser?” I shot back.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Ser Kevan heavy brows furrowed. “It seems you already know the answer to your own question. You will forgive me, Your Grace, if I’m not overly fond of playing word games.”

  I raised an eyebrow his way. Not a complete pushover then. That was good. There’s nothing worse than a yes-man. “You were supposed to capture Petyr Baelish, ser,” I said, dropping any pretenses. “As far as I was told, you only have two noble guests with you, both women.”

  The sudden turn brought Kevan to a stop. He glanced at Tywin for a second before fixing back at me. “Are you saying that Littlefinger is responsible for what happened in the city?” he asked, sounding dubious. “How could a pest like him cause all of this trouble?”

  “Aye, he was responsible,” I snapped. “That is why I went to such lengths to capture him. Sansa Stark is a consolation prize compared to taking him out the board. By the bloody gods, I told you exactly where he would be. How could he have escaped you, ser?”

  Kevan’s jaw tightened, but for just a second his green eyes flashed to the ground before he caught himself and stared straight forward. It was a sign of weakness his brother would never allow himself to do. After a moment, Kevan cleared his throat and squared his shoulders, back to being the perfect soldier. “Your Grace, when I made camp north of the inn, I knew they would be riding from the Vale, so I sent scouts up the high road to wait for them to come. When they passed my men watching the road, near half of their escort turned back around to the Eyrie. My men followed for a few hours to confirm they were truly leaving before returning to camp.” He shook his head. “When we hit them at the inn, these men we thought to be gone smashed us in the back, almost fifteen of them. It bought Baelish enough time to escape.”

  Sighing, I rubbed both hands over my face, trying not to get angry and compromise my relationship with my future Hand of the King. I don’t think neither he nor Tywin understood how devastating it was to miss this opportunity. “So you underestimated Littlefinger,” I concluded, slumping back on my chair. “He’s made his life like this, you know. Nobody suspects a penny-pincher like him to be of any danger to those above his station, and yet here we are. Half the city burnt down and my bride almost kidnapped from my own castle.”

  “The Lady Tyrell?” Kevan asked, confused.

  Tywin stepped away from the bar, grabbing my attention. “Nothing that I knew of Littlefinger ever pointed to him being this capable,” he said. “But if what you say it’s true, then how much of a threat is he really?”

  “Not as much now as he doesn’t have a center of power,” I told him. “First it was King’s Landing, then the Vale. He’s lost both now, but I am sure he’s still one of the richest men in this country. He’s been stealing from the Crown for years, juggling lenders and debtors while swiping a good portion of the pie for himself. Just know that he was the one that instigated the War of the Five Kings, and I’ll eat my own shoe if he won’t try to start another one.”

  Tywin paused. “What?” he hissed.

  I sighed. “I’ll give you a full explanation one of these days if you wish, grandfather, but this night has gone on long enough, and I still have a couple of lovely ladies to meet and charm.” Pushing myself to my feet, I turned back to Kevan. “The past is the past, granduncle. Hopefully we can get past this misstep. We can speak further tomorrow, or after the wedding in a couple of days if you wish. Lord Tywin has prepared rooms for you and your men on the Tower of the Hand. And please, send for Sansa Stark on your way out.”

  “We rode all day today, Your Grace,” Kevan said. “Perhaps you can meet her tomorrow as well?”

  “Oh she is tired, is she?” I smiled. “Good. Send her in anyway, and have Lady Brienne nearby for when I’m done with Stark.”