King's Landing – Rosby Road
Two whole months slipped by in a whirlwind of nonstop construction at Golden Port and the secret magical experiments tucked away on Crackclaw Point. When King Robert's invitation finally reached Golden Port—celebrating Prince Joffrey's thirteenth nameday—Pierce, who had been itching for some action, decided it was time to head to King's Landing himself and see what was up.
Pierce knew exactly what this was: Robert's fancy excuse to throw another massive tournament and blow off steam. The guy just wanted to splash through some of that million-gold-dragon "tribute" Pierce had sent before old Jon Arryn could balance the books.
For the trip, Pierce brought Ser Rosco Blount and his brother Benard as captains of the guard, plus the red priestess Melisandre, who had insisted on tagging along to "guide" him.
Melanye stayed behind to hold down the fort on Crackclaw Point. Before he left, she gave him a pointed warning:
"The Seven's physical forms may have died out long ago in their ancient war with the Children of the Forest, but their leftover 'concepts' and power have soaked into Westeros's soil and faith, quietly shaping everyone—especially in King's Landing. Watch out for that invisible pull."
Pierce just shrugged. Honestly, he trusted real power and smart planning way more. Supernatural stuff was just another tool for making money.
The road to King's Landing was long, and Melisandre wasn't about to miss a single chance to push the Lord of Light's faith.
Inside the carriage her ruby eyes locked on Pierce, her voice taking on that hypnotic rhythm:
"My lord, only the Lord of Light R'hllor is the one true god—the source of heat and life, the ultimate force standing against ancient ice and death. Only through offerings in His flames can one glimpse the true future…"
Pierce was flipping through notes on Essos trade routes and didn't even look up as he cut her off. "Melisandre, I've got one question that's been bugging me!"
"Please, my lord. The Lord of Light will guide my answer," Melisandre replied with perfect poise.
"You say your Lord of Light is all-powerful, right?" Pierce set the notes down, his violet eyes sparkling with mischief as he looked at her.
"The gods' might far exceeds anything mortals can imagine," Melisandre answered carefully, full of priestly certainty.
Pierce nodded, tone casual as he dropped the classic bomb: "Then tell me—can the all-powerful Lord of Light create a stone so heavy that even He can't lift it?"
The carriage went dead silent. For the first time, genuine confusion flashed across Melisandre's stunning face.
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. No matter whether she said "yes" or "no," it was a trap. Her delicate brows knitted as she scrambled for an explanation that fit the doctrine without sounding stupid.
"My lord… that question… it… perhaps has no real meaning. It's a narrow, mortal way of guessing at divine power…" Melisandre tried to stay calm, but a hint of unease crept through.
"No meaning?" Pierce raised an eyebrow. "I think it's pretty damn meaningful. It goes straight to the heart of this 'all-powerful' thing you're selling me. If He can create it but can't lift it, then He's not all-powerful. If He can't create it, same problem. So what exactly does 'all-powerful' mean in your book?"
"The gods' greatness cannot be described… you can't bind it with mortal logic…" Melisandre tried to dodge with theological vagueness.
"Can't be described? Then how am I supposed to know you're not just feeding me some made-up idea?" Pierce spread his hands. "If I invest my faith based on your pitch and your Lord of Light isn't actually what you claim, I'd be getting screwed. 'Equivalent exchange' is my rule. No real payoff, no buy-in."
For the rest of the journey Melisandre tried every angle—creation myths, prophecies, salvation stories—but Pierce kept poking holes in her logic with near-trollish questions.
Melisandre ended up speechless and genuinely frustrated. She had never run into someone like Pierce before—stubborn as hell but sharp as a Valyrian blade. At the same time, it lit a fire in her competitive spirit.
She had never met such a tough, "impossible" yet brilliant potential convert. She secretly vowed that if she could bring a man like Pierce into the Lord of Light's fold, it would be the crowning achievement of her priestess career—proof of her faith and power.
Outside the carriage, Rosco and Benard Blount—riding escort—could faintly hear the "heavy stone" debate. They bit back laughs, shoulders shaking as they traded amused glances.
As former free riders, their faith in the Seven had never been rock-solid anyway. They just thought their lord bantering with the mysterious red priestess was hilarious.
But given their positions they didn't dare laugh out loud—only winked at each other and held it in.
In that slightly weird atmosphere, the group reached a wooded stretch of Rosby Road for a rest and ran smack into another party—Lady Tanda Stokeworth and her family.
Compared to Pierce's sleek, well-equipped caravan and fancy carriage, the Stokeworths' setup looked downright shabby.
Lady Tanda, who liked to brag about her descent from House Darklyn, had of course heard all about Pierce—the new "super-rich" lord who'd shot up like a rocket.
When she learned he was also heading to King's Landing for the celebrations, she immediately came over all friendly, dropping not-so-subtle hints about her "noble" ancestry.
Pierce knew House Darklyn's "glorious history"—the family that had once kidnapped a king. He found it pretty funny inside, but kept his manners on the surface.
When both groups stopped for a break by the little woods, Lady Tanda had planned to introduce her younger daughter to this young diamond bachelor. That plan went out the window the second she saw the afternoon tea Pierce's servants laid out.
Delicate porcelain plates held treats they'd never seen before: fluffy golden cakes, layered pastries, nut-studded cookies… plus chilled, colorful fruit juices and rich, smooth milk tea.
The entire Stokeworth family—from Lady Tanda to her eldest daughter Lollys, son-in-law Ser Balman Byrch, and the slightly simple-minded younger daughter Falyse—were completely won over by the novel sweets. They ate like they'd forgotten the world existed.
After the tea, Pierce casually gifted Lady Tanda a finely crafted gem brooch, gave Lollys and Balman an elegant set of jewelry plus a quality suit of armor, and presented Falyse with a heavy gold bracelet.
Lady Tanda beamed from ear to ear, gushing over Pierce's generosity.
When it was time to continue the journey, however, the Stokeworth carriage horses seemed spooked by the faint aura of Pierce's war-lion "White Shadow" and refused to budge, no matter how the driver whipped them. They just stamped nervously in place.
Pierce politely used the awkward moment to say goodbye to the embarrassed family and pulled ahead.
Once they were gone, Melisandre watched the Stokeworth carriage disappear and said coldly, "Greed and arrogance are baked into that family's bones. Their fate is already written—they'll end up buried under history's dust."
Pierce shot her a teasing look. "Oh? Our priestess is seeing the future clearly again? Didn't you say my presence makes the flames all fuzzy and unclear?"
Melisandre's cheeks flushed a little, embarrassed. It was true—ever since she'd started following Pierce, her fire visions had been badly disrupted, showing only chaos or confusing fragments.
She muttered defensively, "…Though the threads of fate might look tangled, some outcomes are still predictable from certain fixed traits."
Pierce just smiled, unconvinced.
…
…
By evening the group finally reached the outskirts of King's Landing. At the Lion Gate they ran into Petyr Baelish. Today Littlefinger wore a perfectly tailored, expensive dark robe, his face wearing that signature gentle, calculating smile.
"Lord Pierce, welcome to King's Landing!" Littlefinger greeted warmly. "I heard you were arriving today, so I came out specially to play host."
They exchanged a few polite compliments. Pierce's big caravan set up camp outside the city while he took only the Blount brothers, Melisandre, and a few personal attendants, following Littlefinger into the noisy chaos of King's Landing.
Littlefinger didn't take them to an inn or the Red Keep. Instead he led them straight to his newly expanded and renovated luxury brothel, now called Eden.
Along the way he excitedly described his latest "upgrades," sounding pretty pleased with himself.
"…Thanks to those brilliant ideas you gave me, plus the partnership with the Golden Tassel, Eden is now the hottest spot on Silk Street! The Golden Tassel's 'Star Selection' event lines up perfectly with the king's tournament. Soon the whole city will have their eyes on us!"
To entertain Pierce, Littlefinger mysteriously mentioned he'd prepared a batch of "top-quality" girls. Pierce politely turned down the offer.
"I appreciate the thought, Lord Petyr," Pierce said calmly. "But I'm more interested in my share of the gold dragons. Eden and the Star Selection are using my ideas and part of my startup capital, after all!"
Littlefinger blinked, then chuckled and shook his head. "Lord Pierce, you're… straight to the point. I thought you'd be more excited about tonight's show."
Pierce grinned back, a merchant's sharp glint in his eye. "I love money—what's wrong with admitting it? If I didn't love money and work every angle to earn it, how could I have piled up enough wealth in such a short time to make His Grace take notice? And how else would I have locked down Crackclaw Point as lord? Unless both my brothers conveniently died, the main Celtigar line wouldn't have come to me anyway."
He paused, tone turning lightly mocking. "Sure, a lot of the old noble houses across the Seven Kingdoms might look down on me as a 'new money' upstart. But luckily the Celtigar family has old roots and plenty of foundation left."
At that point Pierce gave Littlefinger a look that almost seemed respectful.
"I don't have the talent to climb to Small Council minister like you, my lord—one step at a time on pure skill. Making more money and living better is already my biggest dream!"
A shadow flickered in Littlefinger's eyes, quickly covered by his smile. Pierce's words had hit right on his sore spot—the humiliations of his low birth.
"You are quite capable yourself!" Littlefinger recovered smoothly. "Now, let's talk business. In two days the Golden Tassel's 'Tomorrow's Star' voting kicks off at the Silk Square right outside their flagship shop on Rhaenys's Hill. It's right next to Silk Street and packed with people—the perfect spot for publicity!"
He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "I humbly ask that you generously support the candidate I favor. She is absolutely worth it!"
Littlefinger clapped his hands. Moments later the door opened softly and a young girl entered with graceful steps, head modestly lowered.
"This is Nia," Littlefinger introduced. "She comes from a… former noble family south of the kingswood. She received a proper education and is skilled with the harp. Most importantly…" He gave Pierce a meaningful look, "she has completely mastered those unique and moving songs you provided, and her voice is… heavenly."
The girl named Nia slowly raised her head. She had an extremely pure and lovely face—skin white as snow, large eyes like a fawn's carrying a touch of shyness and innocence, a straight nose, and naturally rosy lips.
Her figure was slender and graceful in a soft lavender gauze dress that made her look delicate and pitiable. This purity mixed with fragile beauty set her completely apart from the usual jaded women in brothels, giving her a powerful presence.
"Nia, greet Lord Pierce," Littlefinger instructed.
The girl curtsied, her voice soft and musical: "Nia greets my lord!"
She lifted her eyes—those clear, timid eyes that seemed to reach straight into the softest part of a person's heart.
Pierce studied the girl and had to admit Littlefinger had excellent taste in selecting and training talent.
Nia's looks, demeanor, and skills were all top-tier. She was more than capable of creating waves at the upcoming Star Selection event—and bringing in serious returns.