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"These damned Starks dare provoke me inside King's Landing. I'll have their heads cut off and mounted on spears!"
Upon hearing Baelish's words, Joffrey immediately took it as a direct provocation from Robb. Hot-tempered as ever, he flared up at once and began shouting.
"Joffrey, don't lose your temper like this. Your uncle Jaime has already taken men to search the city. It won't be long before that wolf pup is kneeling before you."
At his side, Cersei noticed her son slipping out of control again and quickly calmed him.
"Two hundred Lannister soldiers aren't enough. Baelish, deploy more Gold Cloaks to assist in the search. There's no need to keep looking around the Mud Gate. He's no longer there."
Joffrey's moods shifted as quickly as they came. After being soothed by Cersei, he returned to normal and gave the order to Baelish.
"As you command, Your Gra—"
"And you have two days. Within two days, you must capture Robb Stark."
Baelish had just begun to respond when Joffrey cut him off with a new order, imposing a deadline.
"Your Grace, I fear that may be unrealistic.
King's Landing has nearly five hundred thousand inhabitants. The Gold Cloaks number just over two thousand six hundred men. Even adding the Lannister soldiers, we still don't reach three thousand.
They must guard the Red Keep and the seven gates, as well as maintain patrols throughout the city.
After what happened today, the nobles around the Red Keep are already demanding more Gold Cloaks in their districts.
Even if we shift men from other posts, capturing Robb Stark in such a short time will be extremely difficult."
Baelish poured everything out in one breath. Then, seeing Joffrey's expression begin to darken, he smoothly shifted the responsibility onto Varys.
"Of course, if Lord Varys's little birds can discover where Robb Stark is hiding, then capturing him within two days would be entirely possible."
"Mm, you're right. Varys, you have two days to uncover Robb Stark's hiding place. If you fail, we'll find someone else to handle the realm's intelligence."
"Your Grace, that—"
Cersei suddenly intervened, her gaze sweeping over the three men in the throne room.
"My son, there is no need to impose such a rigid deadline. I am certain Lord Baelish and Lord Varys will do everything in their power to serve you well.
Isn't that right?"
"Yes, Your Grace."
"Of course."
Seeing that Cersei had eased the pressure, Baelish and Varys inclined their heads slightly in thanks.
"Your Grace, a message has arrived from the Great Sept. King Robert's funeral will be held tomorrow at midday."
Sensing that Joffrey had calmed down, Baelish spoke again, changing the subject.
"Mm. Tomorrow we will depart the Red Keep shortly before midday."
At the report, Joffrey nodded.
Then, suddenly remembering that Robb Stark was still lurking in the shadows, he added:
"Tomorrow, reinforce the guard along the entire route between the Red Keep and the Great Sept of Baelor. I want no accidents."
"As you command, Your Grace."
...
Knock knock knock.
Three sharp knocks woke Robb inside the small house on the Street of Silk.
He rose at once and saw one of the Cerwyn guards on watch making a low hand signal, indicating that a child was outside.
Robb immediately understood that it must be one of Varys's little birds and went to receive her himself.
Even so, he remained extremely cautious. He hid a dagger in his right hand behind his back and opened the door with his left.
Creeeak.
The door opened just a crack. Outside stood a little girl of eight or nine, her face smeared with dirt, holding out a folded piece of paper through the gap.
After the ambush of the previous days, Robb had become even more careful. Instead of taking the paper himself, he turned to the Cerwyn guard beside him. The man nodded and took the note.
After completing her task, the girl remained there, looking at Robb expectantly.
Robb thought for a moment, then took a silver stag from his clothes and handed it to her.
As the girl ran off happily clutching the coin, Robb closed the door.
"Today I took my golden hound hunting across the land and caught a fine stag. I intend to serve it at a grand feast tomorrow at midday.
I invite you, before dawn tomorrow, to visit my residence in the northern tower."
The Cerwyn guard opened the note and read it aloud.
Robb had no trouble understanding the real meaning behind the message.
First, Varys was telling him that the Gold Cloaks and Lannister soldiers were conducting searches everywhere that day, warning him not to act rashly.
Next, he revealed that King Robert's funeral would take place at midday the following day.
Finally, Varys was inviting him to meet before dawn, in the noble district north of the Red Keep.
"Crey, tonight we proceed with the plan as agreed. Tomorrow, the moment you hear the signal, act."
After a brief moment of thought, Robb turned to Crey and gave the order.
"As you command, Lord Robb. If your operation fails, please head for the escape route. I'll ensure it remains open."
Crey nodded. As always, he considered the worst-case scenario first and made sure to emphasize the retreat.
"Mm. Understood. Crey, you're reliable when it comes to this.
Since they're moving exactly as we predicted, let's rest well today and wait for nightfall."
That day, King's Landing descended into chaos.
The districts of Flea Bottom and Aegon's Hill were torn apart by more than a thousand Gold Cloaks and over two hundred Lannister soldiers, who turned everything upside down.
Although they failed to find Robb, they did uncover numerous criminals and troublemakers. It was not an entirely fruitless search.
Night fell slowly, and the Street of Silk, silent during the day, came alive once more, exuding its characteristic blend of luxury and decadence.
The door of the house where Robb and the others were hiding opened, and Crey and his three men stepped out dressed as Gold Cloaks.
And this time, it wasn't just a disguise.
They were real Gold Cloaks, attached to a detachment guarding the southern tower outside the Red Keep.
Well, thanks to the connections and favors Crey had been cultivating, they held the title, but were not required to actually perform guard duty or patrols.
That night would, in all likelihood, be the first—and last—time they truly acted as such.
Crey did not head directly to the southern tower.
Instead, he led his three men through streets he knew well until they reached a mid-tier brothel, where he met their deputy commander, Glye.
The deputy commander was in his usual room, occupied with two well-endowed young women in a rather shameless game of "kneading dough."
"You two, leave. I have something to discuss with the captain."
Without the slightest embarrassment, Crey spoke directly and seriously to the two women.
"Go on, my beauties."
Glye gave each of them a light slap on the rear and dismissed them.
After they left, Crey tilted his head and signaled to the three guards behind him. They stepped out as well and stood watch outside the door.
"Captain Glye, I've already fulfilled my part of the agreement. Here are the fifty gold dragons."
Crey pulled a pouch of gold from his clothes and tossed it to Glye.
"Hehehe, who would've thought. So you really are a Stark man.
I only mentioned in passing that I wanted a promotion, and you actually went out and started killing people.
A lot of important people died last night."
Calling Crey by the false name he used in King's Landing, Glye opened the pouch and began inspecting each gold dragon one by one, unable to hide his satisfaction.
Meanwhile, his mouth kept moving nonstop.
"The captain who used to hold you back is dead. So now you can naturally take his place.
And if you use this money well, and with a bit more luck...
Who knows? You might become the next commander of the Gold Cloaks, Lord Glye."
"Hehehehe!"
Hearing that, Glye broke into a foolish grin, clearly imagining the future Crey had just painted for him.
Seeing this reaction, Crey continued:
"We've already done everything we promised.
Now it's your turn."
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