When Adam Marbrand walked into the hall of the Place of Order, the volume of conversation automatically dropped a notch.
After all, these were merchants making their living in King's Landing, harboring a deep-seated, innate fear of the City Watch.
Especially since this commander of the City Watch wasn't wearing splendid formal attire, but remained clad in dark red armor, a dazzling golden cloak draped behind him.
He wore no superfluous ornaments, only a splendid longsword hanging at his waist.
His pace was unhurried, followed by seven officers.
Petyr quickly glanced over them. As a former master of coin, he immediately recognized five of them—all were captains guarding various districts and gates of King's Landing.
Damn it... It seemed Adam Marbrand hadn't come alone to show support, but had brought half the City Watch's command structure with him!
"Sir Corleone." Adam came to a halt in the center of the hall, his voice not loud but clearly reaching every corner. "Congratulations."
"I too was once personally knighted by Lord Tywin. From now on, we shall jointly uphold this honor."
"Of course, Ser Adam."
Corleone smiled as he went forward to meet him. "The improvement in Flea Bottom's security is entirely thanks to you and the City Watch's care. In the future, the Mafia will fully support the work of the Gold Cloaks."
"Mutual support." Adam nodded, his gaze sweeping across the hall. It paused for a moment on Lord Lake and Lady Farris, giving a slight nod of acknowledgment, then settled on Petyr.
That look made Petyr's heart give a violent lurch.
Damn it... It couldn't be!
He glanced at Lord Lake and Lady Farris, his heart uneasy. Among the people he had screwed over back in the day, Adam Marbrand wasn't one of them!
This fellow had been appointed commander of the City Watch by Tywin only after the Battle of the Blackwater ended. He had hardly ever been to King's Landing before, and the two of them had almost no contact whatsoever!
"Just as well, Lord Baelish is also here."
However, Adam spoke on his own accord. "Saves me a trip to your residence tomorrow."
Hearing this, Petyr could only try hard to maintain his composure and asked uneasily, "Is there something Ser Adam requires of me?"
Adam didn't answer immediately. Instead, he took out a small black leather-bound notebook from inside his robe, opened it, ran his finger down a page, and stopped at one.
"Last month, we received a report. Several moneylenders submitted some mortgage loan applications to the City Watch's logistics office."
"They used seven brothels on Silk Street, three gambling dens, and two warehouses belonging to you as collateral. The total loan amount..."
"...four thousand five hundred gold dragons!"
"That... Ser Adam," Petyr hastily cleared his throat, his voice a bit dry. "That loan had proper procedures. The value of the collateral far exceeded the loan amount. The entire process was without issue."
"Correct." Adam nodded, then flipped to another page and continued loudly, "But we later learned that you used those same properties as collateral for repeated loans at different places. The total borrowed amount..."
He pretended to not quite remember, flipping through the pages. After everyone was listening intently, he pointed at a spot as if suddenly remembering and declared loudly, "...was thirty-two thousand gold dragons in total!"
As soon as these words were spoken, the hall fell deathly silent.
Even the sound of servants pouring wine stopped.
Thirty-two thousand gold dragons. That was enough to buy half of Silk Street!
This Petyr Baelish was truly no good, actually using properties for repeated mortgage loans. This was clearly a plan to flee!
Feeling the contemptuous gazes of everyone, Petyr felt cold sweat breaking out on his back.
"This... I can explain, Ser..."
"...the repayment deadline was ten days ago."
Adam cut him off directly without listening to his explanation. He raised his eyes to stare at Petyr and said righteously, "According to the loan agreement, if repayment is overdue, ownership of the collateral automatically transfers to the creditors. Of course, your properties are not worth that much money."
"Therefore, please think carefully about how to repay this debt as soon as possible, Lord Baelish."
He closed the notebook and tucked it back into his robe.
Petyr opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but his throat seemed choked.
His mind was racing furiously. Those three properties were precisely the core assets listed on the scroll of parchment he had just given to Corleone!
His original plan had been cunning: 'gift' the properties about to be seized to Corleone. This would both earn him a favor and transfer the debt crisis.
Once Corleone took over, when the creditors came knocking, it would be a dispute between Corleone and them. Meanwhile, he, Petyr Baelish, would be long gone, off to the Vale to marry Lysa Tully.
Given the The Eyrie's impregnability and that foolish woman Lysa's fanatical love for him, as long as he didn't want to be seen, no one could possibly come to the The Eyrie to collect debts!
But he never expected Adam Marbrand to appear here.
And to publicly bring up this debt *after* he had 'gifted away' the properties.
It was too coincidental.
So coincidental it didn't seem like a coincidence.
Thinking of this, Petyr abruptly turned to look at Corleone.
He saw the other man also calmly looking back at him. Those dark eyes held no emotion—no surprise, no anger, not even mockery.
Only a calmness that seemed as if he had foreseen everything.
...He knew all along!
This thought crashed into Petyr's mind.
Corleone had known all along about the debt issues with these three properties, and he had known Adam would come to collect. That's why he signed so readily!
Petyr felt his fingertips grow cold. He looked down at his hands and saw his fingers trembling slightly.
He quickly hid his hands behind his back, clenched them into fists, digging his nails into his palms.
"Ser Adam." He took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice steady. "That loan... I was indeed delayed in repayment due to some matters. But please rest assured, I will arrange..."
"...arrange what?" A tall, thin officer behind Adam took a step forward.
It was the captain of the Mud Gate, Humphrey Viswater.
Petyr knew this man—a captain of the City Watch, Adam's trusted subordinate, renowned for his shrewdness and vindictiveness.
Back then, he had a distant relative working as an assistant in the master of coin's office. During the handling of the corruption case involving the former City Watch commander Janos Slynt, this assistant had been imprisoned by Petyr on charges of 'unclear accounts' and later reportedly committed suicide in his cell.
"Arrange to keep stalling?" Humphrey looked at him with a sinister gaze. "You are no longer the master of coin, Lord Baelish."
"Everyone in King's Landing knows you are about to go to Harrenhal to receive your lands. Once you leave, are the creditors in King's Landing supposed to go to Harrenhal to collect?"
As soon as these words were spoken, Petyr's face instantly turned cold. But just as he was about to find another excuse to delay, a voice suddenly cut in.
"I believe him!"
Everyone turned to look. Corleone had taken two steps forward, standing between Petyr and Adam, adopting a posture of mediation.
Though his expression hadn't changed, Corleone was inwardly overjoyed.
He could swear by the Seven that he truly had no prior knowledge of Petyr's scheme to set him up.
But even if he had known, Corleone would have accepted these properties without hesitation.
After all, these debts were owed by Petyr Baelish. What did they have to do with Vito Corleone?
Moreover, as the Mafia's influence gradually grew, Corleone didn't believe anyone would dare to use their power to pressure him in King's Landing into repaying Petyr's debts!
"I believe Lord Petyr is an honorable man."
In front of everyone, Corleone declared solemnly and loudly, "He just generously gifted me a batch of properties, which coincidentally include those mentioned by Ser Adam."
"I think Lord Petyr must have intended to settle all his debts before leaving King's Landing, which is why he gifted all these properties to me. Am I right?"
As he spoke, he turned to look at Petyr, his eyes narrowing slightly. "After all, if these properties really had problems, why would Lord Petyr give them to me? That would be... forsaking honor and deceiving a knight, wouldn't it?"
Forsaking honor and deceiving a knight.
These words were spoken lightly, but for nobles who placed great importance on honor and face, they were very serious accusations.
This was almost like putting Petyr on a spit over a fire.
He now had two choices. First, admit he indeed intended to screw over Corleone, which would mean admitting in front of everyone that he was a dishonorable, faithless villain.
Not only would Lord Lake and Lady Farris despise him, but the word would spread among all the nobles, merchants, and even commoners across the Seven Kingdoms.
And that would almost mean that from now on, no one would ever believe a word Petyr Baelish said.
Therefore, Petyr hesitated almost not at all.
"Ah, yes, yes, yes!" He quickly nodded, swiftly regaining his smile, though it was somewhat forced.
"Sir Corleone is right!"
"I... I meant exactly that! Those properties do have mortgages, but I originally planned to... uh, go repay the money after tonight's banquet ended. Really!"
He agreed very readily, appearing completely without any intention of reneging.
Adam Marbrand stared at him for three seconds, then slowly nodded. "Good."
Then he turned to Humphrey and ordered, "Captain Humphrey Viswater."
"Yes, my lord!"
"Starting tonight, take a squad and guard outside Lord Baelish's residence."
"You withdraw only when Lord Baelish has repaid the thirty-two thousand gold dragons he owes."
"Remember, you must see the money. Not a single copper penny less. We must not let King's Landing's legitimate merchants lose heart!"
Humphrey Viswater grinned. That smile was full of undisguised malice.
"Yes, my lord!" Hearing this, Humphrey stared fixedly at Petyr, grinning. "I will... keep a very close watch."
Looking at that sly, treacherous expression, Petyr felt the corner of his mouth twitch involuntarily.
He knew Humphrey Viswater all too well.
Back when he imprisoned that assistant, Humphrey had privately sought him out, begging him to show leniency. But Petyr was busy with a big deal at the time and dismissed him with a few Perfunctory words.
Now, this man was going to lead a squad of Gold Cloaks to stand guard outside his home.
In name, it was to supervise repayment, but in reality...
Petyr didn't dare think about it.
Looking into Humphrey's cold eyes, Petyr suddenly remembered something else.
During his years as master of coin, he had frequently delayed the Gold Cloaks' wages—sometimes for a month, sometimes two, the longest stretch being an entire quarter!
But there was no helping it! Back then, that damned Robert Baratheon was too extravagant. A single tourney cost over a hundred thousand gold dragons!
No matter how skilled Petyr Baelish was at making money, he couldn't keep up with that kind of spending rate!
If he didn't cut corners somewhere like the Gold Cloaks' wages, how could he, the master of coin, make money?
If he couldn't make money, how could the king make money? How could he remain master of coin?
But it was too late to think of that now.
Under the watchful eyes of everyone, Petyr could only brace himself and force out a smile uglier than crying. "Ser Adam, rest assured, I... I will repay it as soon as possible."
"It would be best."
Adam nodded, no longer looking at him. When he turned to Corleone, his tone became much milder. "Sir Corleone, I hear the wine here is quite special."
"We have indeed made some new attempts." Corleone smiled. "What would Ser Adam like to drink?"
"Something strong. It's a bit cold today."
The two exchanged pleasantries as they walked towards the bar, as if nothing had happened.
But everyone knew what had happened.
Petyr Baelish, King's Landing's shrewdest, most adept money-maker, had just been forced, in front of everyone, not only to cough up thirty-two thousand gold dragons but also to be under the day-and-night surveillance of a group of Gold Cloaks who hated him to the bone for the next few days.
And all of this happened precisely *after* he had 'gifted' the properties to Vito Corleone.
Coincidence?
No one believed it was a coincidence.
Lord Lake held his wine glass, gently swirling it, a faint, elusive smile playing on his lips.
Lady Farris covered her mouth with a handkerchief, but her eyes were full of gleeful schadenfreude.
The merchants and proprietors exchanged glances, murmuring in low voices.
Petyr stood where he was, feeling everyone's gaze prick him like needles.
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.
It's fine, he told himself. It's only thirty thousand gold dragons. Fortunately, he had made quite a bit of money in King's Landing over the years. Losing a few tens of thousands wouldn't be a fatal blow.
He still had money, still had his plans for the Vale, still had that foolish woman Lysa Tully.
Once he reached the The Eyrie, none of this would matter...
He just needed to leave here. He absolutely could not stay any longer, or who knows what other trouble might crop up!
Immediately. Right now!
But just as he was about to turn and head for the door...
At the hall entrance, that damned... ugly noseless fellow entered again!
Rorge was running urgently this time, panting heavily, his originally hairy, dark face even flushed with excitement.
He pushed through the crowd, nearly knocking over two servants, then opened his grating voice and shouted with all his might, "Ser! The master of coin, Lord Tyrion Lannister, Lady Margaery Tyrell, and Her Grace the Queen Mother have all arrived!"
The moment his words fell, the entire hall fell completely silent, everyone looking at him in disbelief.
But Rorge wasn't finished!
"And also, the Hand of the King... the Hand, Lord Tywin Lannister, and Lady Olenna Redwyne have come too!"
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