King's Landing – Stannis's Private Estate Outside the City
While swords were practically being drawn inside the Red Keep, the estate on the banks of the Blackwater River was quiet and elegant.
This was another one of Pierce's properties in the capital—used for hosting important guests or secret meetings. It was far more private than the "Eden" brothel on Silk Street.
Of course, on paper it now belonged to Prince Stannis. Pierce's people ran it day-to-day; Stannis rarely visited.
Inside a cozy study, Pierce and Stannis sat across from each other by the fireplace. Davos Seaworth stood silently behind his lord like a loyal shadow.
The air carried the faint scent of woodsmoke, aged wine, and the subtle herbal incense the maids had lit earlier, giving the room a rich, intimate atmosphere.
"I heard about your new deal with the king—the permanent tourney arena," Stannis began. His usual stern face showed clear disapproval. "Pierce, you've already poured a fortune into the Dragonpit. Taking on another massive project like this… it's too risky."
"Some of my… seafaring contacts think the Dragonpit renovation is a fool's errand. That whole area has bad history and worse 'feng shui,' as the easterners say."
Stannis's words were blunt, but Pierce could hear the genuine concern underneath.
Since the betrothal and their secret pact, the two men had become true political allies. Stannis didn't want Pierce overextending himself financially and weakening the support he'd promised.
Pierce gently swirled the crystal goblet of deep-red wine, watching the liquid ripple.
"I appreciate the warning, Prince Stannis. But I see things a little differently."
He set the goblet down, voice calm and steady. "The Dragonpit isn't just a business investment. It's the anchor I need to put down real roots in King's Landing. Only with real property and influence here can I give you actual, immediate support when the… storms come. Not just distant promises from Crackclaw Point."
He paused, tone growing heavier. "As for risk… every great reward comes with danger. In my eyes, burying gold dragons in the ground is the stupidest way to preserve wealth. Let them flow, multiply, and create even more value—that's true power."
"The Dragonpit and the new arena will become the new heart of King's Landing. They'll draw people, goods, and information. Whoever controls them will control the city's pulse."
Stannis listened in silence. He didn't fully agree with Pierce's aggressive style of commerce, but he had to admit the logic made sense.
In the coming power struggles of Westeros, an ally with real economic muscle and intelligence networks inside the capital was far more valuable than one who only controlled a distant rock and some ships.
"I understand your thinking," Stannis finally said, still stern but no longer arguing. "Just be careful. The waters of King's Landing run deeper than the Blackwater."
"I will," Pierce replied solemnly.
...
...
Estate Dining Hall
That evening Pierce hosted a private dinner for Stannis's family. Compared to the plain, almost austere meals on Dragonstone, this feast was downright luxurious.
Spiced Essosi roast lamb, fine white bread from the Reach, chilled Dornish wine, and an array of novel desserts from Golden Port's workshops covered the long table.
Shireen Baratheon sat beside her mother, Lady Selyse. The little girl looked nervous but glowed with quiet happiness.
Ever since the team of handmaids Pierce sent to Dragonstone began caring for her, her life there had quietly changed.
At the very least, her mother's gaze toward her now held less disdain and a touch of something softer—something Selyse herself probably didn't even realize.
On Dragonstone, aside from her father and Ser Davos, those maids were the only people who had ever been truly kind to her.
Though Shireen looked like an innocent noble girl, she had learned far more from books than most adults realized. In many ways, she saw things even clearer than her father.
The dinner started stiff. Stannis was never talkative, and Selyse maintained her usual rigid propriety.
But Pierce skillfully guided the conversation—talking about sailing, trade, and the wonders of Essos—and the mood gradually warmed.
It was the only way. These two really were made for each other—both stiff, both stubborn. But that same personality was exactly why Stannis had stayed isolated for years.
And that isolation was perfect for Pierce. What he needed most was a righteous banner. When the War of the Five Kings finally exploded, he would use that banner to shake the entire realm.
After the meal, Pierce presented his gift—a beautifully carved wooden box engraved with Shireen's name and the Baratheon stag. He slid it across the table to her.
"Shireen, this is the very first sample from Golden Port's new toy workshop. I had it made especially for you. I hope you like it."
Shireen opened the box with wide eyes.
Inside lay a doll wearing an exquisite silk gown, with flowing purple hair and bright glass eyes that actually moved.
The craftsmanship was light-years ahead of any common doll in Westeros. It came with several changeable outfits and tiny accessories.
"This… this is…" Shireen's eyes sparkled with pure wonder. She had never seen anything so beautiful or lifelike.
She gently touched the doll's dress, and a radiant smile broke across her face—making even the faint greyscale marks seem to fade.
"Thank you, Lord Pierce!" she whispered, hugging the doll tightly like it was the most precious thing in the world.
Lady Selyse watched her daughter's genuine joy, then glanced at Pierce's warm smile. For just a second, the tight line of her mouth softened.
Davos observed everything in silence, raising his opinion of his future good-son another notch. Stannis kept his usual stern expression, but a flicker of approval showed in his eyes.
The dinner ended on a genuinely warm note. Pierce had drawn himself even closer to House Baratheon of Dragonstone—especially to Shireen.
And in the not-too-distant future, he would become the one person Shireen could truly rely on.
...
...
King's Landing – Silk Street, "Eden"
After saying goodnight to Stannis's family, Pierce returned to the top-floor suite at Eden. He had just shrugged off his rain cloak when Petyr Baelish appeared like a ghost, wearing that familiar gentle, calculating smile.
"Congratulations on the championship, Lord Pierce! Shall I arrange a few… special girls to help you celebrate properly tonight?" Littlefinger suggested with a meaningful wink.
Pierce waved him off and poured himself a stiff drink. "Celebration later, Petyr. Business first. How are preparations for the second phase coming along? I'm talking about the stage plays."
Littlefinger blinked, then caught on. "You mean… those Braavosi-style things where people act out stories on a raised platform? The stage is already under construction at the little square where Flour Street meets Silk Street. Just like you asked—a raised wooden platform with simple backdrops. But…"
He hesitated, then voiced his doubt. "My lord, I still don't quite understand. We already have the wildly successful 'Star Selection' model. Why spend time and money on this… theater business? Just because the Braavosi like it doesn't mean the nobles and merchants of King's Landing will. And it doesn't seem to bring in much direct profit."
Pierce took a sip of wine, a knowing smile curving his lips. "Petyr, your vision is still stuck in traditional brothel management and beauty contests. Stage plays aren't just entertainment."
He walked to the window and looked down at the glittering, bustling Silk Street below. "They're a higher form of advertising. Imagine Nia on stage playing a tragic heroine. Every perfume she wears, every piece of jewelry, every dress… all of it becomes emotionally charged inside the story."
"We can cleverly insert sponsorships mid-performance—'The magnificent costumes in tonight's play are provided by Golden Port Silk Workshops'—or have characters drink a specific wine in key scenes…"
Pierce turned, eyes gleaming. "It's far more effective than simple shouting and displays! When the noble ladies are moved by the story, they'll desperately want everything they saw on stage. The demand for custom versions from 'Golden Tassel' and 'Eden' will be overwhelming!"
"We'll charge massive sponsorship fees and drive sales across all our businesses. The gold we spent on the Dragonpit and the new arena will flow right back into our pockets—multiplied."
Littlefinger stood frozen, mouth slightly open. For the first time, his usual composure cracked under pure shock and dawning realization.
He was a master at reading people and exploiting information gaps, but this seamless fusion of entertainment, emotion, and commerce was completely new to him.
He saw a golden river of profit opening before his eyes.
"I… I understand…" Littlefinger's voice carried a faint tremble. The look he gave Pierce now held genuine awe alongside their partnership. "My lord, your vision… far exceeds anything I imagined. I'll push the stage-play preparations forward immediately and begin approaching potential… sponsors."
"Good." Pierce nodded, satisfied. "Remember, Petyr—we don't follow trends. We create them."
Littlefinger left, mind reeling with new plans.
Pierce rubbed his tired temples and stepped into the private bathroom of the suite.
A huge brass tub was already filled with hot water scented with calming herbs. Four highly trained bed slaves waited nearby, ready to bathe and massage away the day's exhaustion.
Pierce sank into the warm water and closed his eyes, letting the girls' gentle hands work on his shoulders and arms.
Just as he was drifting off, a pair of hands—stronger, more familiar—replaced the ones massaging his temples.
Pierce didn't open his eyes. He simply asked in a low voice, "How did the investigation go? About Lady Selyse."
Shae's quiet voice came from behind him. "As you ordered, master. Lady Selyse is from House Florent. Her personality is… quite stubborn. Some might even call it fanatical. She has strong control over Prince Stannis, but from what our people on Dragonstone report, their marriage… isn't exactly harmonious. The prince spends most of his time on duty, and… he doesn't seem very interested in marital relations."
Pierce's lips curved into a cold little smile. "A woman with extreme control issues and an unsatisfying marriage life…"
He paused, then spoke directly. "In other words—frustrated and neglected. I assume you've already guessed where I'm going with this. So, have you found the right candidate?"
Shae's voice carried quiet confidence. "He's ready, master. I selected a bed slave from the Summer Isles. Strong physique, extremely skilled in every art of pleasing a woman. Most importantly… he's an excellent listener who knows exactly how to show 'understanding' and 'adoration.' He can make any lonely, overlooked noble lady temporarily forget her troubles—and perhaps become addicted."
"Excellent." Pierce slowly opened his eyes, watching the steam curl upward. "Find the perfect natural moment. Let him 'accidentally' enter Lady Selyse's sight. Make it seamless—no suspicion whatsoever."
"Yes, master. I'll handle it personally." Shae's fingers continued their gentle circles on his temples, her eyes gleaming with loyalty and cold efficiency.
The massage continued for another ten minutes.
Then Pierce felt the shift behind him—the unmistakable heat of Shae's body pressing closer.
He reached back without looking and caught her hand.
"You've done very well," he murmured. "Let me reward you properly."
"Thank you for your favor, master," Shae breathed, her voice already husky as she slipped into the tub with him.