King's Landing was shrouded in night, and though the King was dead, human merriment had not ceased; brothels, gambling dens, and fighting pits remained open.
Littlefinger, escorted by Rosso, arrived at a rickety-looking three-story wooden building.
Light streamed from its windows, appearing particularly bright in the fading twilight, and music and raucous laughter spilled out, drifting over the river.
A heavy chain by the door held an ornate oil lamp, covered by a leaded red glass shade.
"This is a place that spreads joy, but it's a pity Eddard isn't here anymore; I remember the last time we were together.
How pathetic, Stark," Littlefinger said to Rosso beside him.
Rosso remained silent; Littlefinger knew he was a perpetually quiet man.
Silent, loyal, and skilled—these were the qualities Littlefinger sought in a subordinate.
So they entered the house, passing through the crowded hall where a stout woman sang lewd songs, and beautiful girls in flimsy silk robes flirted on their patrons' laps.
Littlefinger led Rosso directly to the third floor.
Littlefinger smiled, then poured Rosso a hot drink.
"Now that our good Robert is dead, the situation in King's Landing will become even livelier, especially tomorrow."
Rosso drank it all, but said nothing.
He was indifferent to the King, or at least he played the part of someone who only cared for Littlefinger's gold and esteem.
"Oh, I forgot, Rosso, you prefer swords and spears."
"Please forgive me, my Lord."
"I like your silence; otherwise, a Mercenary wouldn't be worth it," Littlefinger chuckled.
"But I feel we won't be staying in King's Landing for too long.
Let Stark rot beneath The Red Keep, and let The Hounds fight over the lion's legacy."
Littlefinger looked at the puzzled Rosso, then revealed his plan.
"King's Landing is not our home; King's Landing will only become more dangerous.
My home is in the Vale, on the Fingers Peninsula."
Littlefinger had already sensed his own danger; he had spread that lie about the Valyria dagger, and The Imp would surely harbor ill will towards him.
Lannister would suspect him.
Moreover, in King's Landing, his control was insufficient, and his manpower was lacking.
There was also a third storm: that young man Across the Narrow Sea, who made Littlefinger somewhat fearful, like a Brandon or The Mountain in his life.
Littlefinger was certain The Mountain's death couldn't be separated from The Boy Blacksmith's machinations.
Given all this, only the Vale was safe.
"I will be ready," Rosso Brenn said.
"Very good, just follow my orders," Littlefinger said.
The Vale had the dangers of the Mountains of the Moon, a foolish Lysa, and his true foundation, unlike the exposed King's Landing.
"For people like us, opportunities are so rare, fleeting," Littlefinger poured himself a glass of wine too.
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