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"The Citadel sounds like a savior when you put it that way. Yet while the Citadel does everything it can to build a world without magic, it also studies magic in great depth.
"Heh. In my eyes, that is only an excuse for one set of rules for yourselves and another for everyone else.
"Of course, the Citadel's contributions to Westeros are also an undeniable fact."
After hearing Malora's words, Robb shook his head and chuckled, giving his view of the Citadel.
"One set of rules? Undeniable fact? Interesting new phrases. But I understand the gist.
"If the Citadel wishes to eliminate dangerous and unknown occult arts, it must first understand their principles. That is why maesters studying occult arts appeared centuries ago.
"But at that time dragons still existed in the world, and occult power still had an obvious influence on it. Many maesters who studied the occult seriously were tempted by the powerful forces they suddenly obtained and eventually became spellcasters who abused those powers.
"After countless painful lessons, the Citadel sought to avoid such things as much as possible.
"It used Valyrian steel's ability to strip away the special nature of occult power and forged Valyrian steel links for every maester who made real progress in occult study. The purpose was to keep them in a true state of academic research."
Hearing Robb's obvious dissatisfaction with the Citadel, Malora stared at him with her dark-circled eyes and argued her case, trying hard to present the Citadel in a positive light.
"Enough. I did not bring you here to discuss that. Since you cannot control Theon, next you will use your charm on Bloodwind."
He waved his hand and skipped past the topic, returning to what he cared about.
"As you command, Your Grace."
Since the king had decided, Malora could only nod, though she had clearly wanted to continue.
The king picked up the pair of studs as thick as an adult's little finger and walked out of the tent.
The giant wolf, lounging lazily outside, saw him come out and slapped his steel-whip tail against the ground, completely unaware that his ears were about to suffer.
Bloodwind let out low, plaintive whines as Robb climbed onto his head and used a condensed ice needle to pierce both of his upright wolf ears.
To keep his vital companion safe from influence, Robb installed both Valyrian steel studs on him.
Afterward, he jumped down from Bloodwind and let Malora, who had been waiting, cast her charm.
The result was the same as with Theon. The deep blue light from Malora's hand flew toward the upper half of Bloodwind's head, then dissolved directly into the air.
'Good. The magical defense has the effect I wanted. Then...'
Seeing that the charm could no longer interfere with Bloodwind, Robb nodded inwardly. Then, to avoid exposing his mental link with Bloodwind before outsiders, he deliberately ordered aloud, "Bloodwind, cover your whole body in Ice Armor."
Bloodwind immediately rose from his lazy sprawl, and white ice mist began rising from his body.
This time, however, it was different from before. The white mist quickly wrapped Bloodwind's massive frame, but around his head it could only reach as high as his lively eyes.
Whenever the mist moved above the eyes, it seemed to be swallowed by an invisible mouth and vanished from the air.
In the end, Bloodwind could only form an incomplete Ice Armor. The upper half of his head had become a gap in the defense.
'The Valyrian steel studs have both benefits and drawbacks.'
'But he cannot use blood pact points to cancel magical effects the way I can. To prevent another accident, he must wear these studs at all times.'
'As for the upper half of his head, which Ice Armor cannot protect, I will have to fill that gap for him in battle.'
Looking at that unprotected upper half, Robb knew that would be his fixed position from now on.
"Enough, Bloodwind. Dismiss Ice Armor and send a breath of frost into the sky."
As soon as Robb finished, the armor on the wolf's body broke apart piece by piece and dissolved. Then Bloodwind opened his mouth, raised his head, and sent a whirl of ice mist into the sky.
With no target, the spiraling ice mist rose to its highest point and scattered into little shards of ice that fell around Gendry's smithing tent like hail.
Tiny hailstones struck the surrounding tents with crackling sounds. Malora stared at Bloodwind with shining eyes, as if she had discovered an entirely new field of study.
Before, she had known only that Robb could use ice magic. Now she discovered that Bloodwind could do the same. Compared with Robb, who had his own mind and noble status, Bloodwind seemed far easier to approach.
"That is enough for today. Wyl, send Lady Malora back. And remember to hand the moonstone in her hand to Crey."
Just as Malora was thinking of how to ask for Bloodwind's fur, blood, or other research materials, Robb spoke to Wyl.
"No!"
Hearing Robb, Malora shouted by instinct.
Wyl, the Wolfguard, and the surrounding ironborn all drew their swords, guarding against any accident. Everyone knew she was a spellcaster able to use magic.
Malora looked at their reaction in surprise, then glanced down at the moonstone in her hand, now only the size of a grain of rice.
She turned to Robb and forced herself into a relaxed posture. "Your Grace, I only mean that there is still an important matter I must discuss with you. Alone.
"You know I cannot harm you at all."
When she finished, Malora threw the tiny moonstone to Wyl on her own initiative.
"Bloodwind, shrink."
Robb did not answer Malora directly. He turned and gave Bloodwind an order.
As soon as he spoke, Bloodwind's massive body began to writhe and twist. Under the shocked gazes of those around him who saw Control for the first time, he slowly shrank to the size of an ordinary gray wolf.
The pair of Valyrian steel studs now hung from Bloodwind's ears like oversized ornaments.
"Come in and talk."
Very cautious, Robb said this to Malora, then brought Bloodwind into the smithing tent.
After being shocked several times that day, Malora was left almost speechless. She gathered her excitement and stepped into the tent.
"Speak. What do you want to discuss?"
"Your Grace, I want Bloodwind's fur and blood for research. Perhaps this will be the first time in occult history..."
"No."
Malora had only just begun speaking with enthusiasm when Robb interrupted her without hesitation. His expression did not change as he continued.
"If you have nothing else to say, follow Wyl back."
"Your Grace, House Hightower rules wealthy Oldtown. We do not lack gold dragons, and for centuries we have shown no desire to seize greater power.
"That can be seen from the fact that we invested in building the Citadel to serve the nobles of Westeros and have protected it to this day.
"Then why did we suddenly betray House Tyrell and come to besiege Highgarden?"
Hearing Robb's cold tone, Malora gritted her teeth and threw out a topic she believed would attract him.
"Good. That is a question I have been thinking about for some time. Very well, Lady Malora. Sit, and we will talk."
Robb's cold expression changed at once. Smiling, he gestured to the chairs in the tent.
'A qualified king indeed.'
Watching Robb's expression shift so quickly, Malora silently sighed.
After the two sat down in the tent, Malora spoke first. "Your Grace, to show my sincerity, I will tell you an important piece of intelligence.
"House Hightower joined the attack on Highgarden because a vast power offered my father terms he could not refuse."
'A vast power...'
Robb stroked Bloodwind's head as the wolf lay beside him and considered Malora's words.
After weighing matters carefully in his mind, he spoke directly. "I cannot give you Bloodwind's fur or blood. But I can cooperate with your magical research.
"If your intelligence is true, I can even provide you with some of my own hair and blood."
Robb had long held his own guesses about the force hidden behind Tywin, and a sense of crisis had lingered over him.
Now that he might learn the truth, he would not give up the chance lightly.
Besides, Robb understood that Bloodwind was the root of his blood pact and magic. Nothing could be allowed to happen to him.
Robb himself was different. Whether Malora truly used his hair and blood for research, or whether she tried to cast a curse, he had no fear. He had enough blood pact points to protect himself.
Melisandre's curse, cast with the Lord of Light's support, had been canceled by blood pact points. Robb did not believe Malora could cast a stronger curse.
"Your Grace, occult research is not easy. It requires diverse materials..."
"There is no room to bargain on this. Since this is a vast power, they surely approached more than House Hightower.
"If you do not tell me, I will go speak with House Martell, House Redwyne, even House Tarly. In the end I will surely gain something, will I not?"
Malora still wanted to bargain, but Robb cut her off cleanly.
From her behavior, she was certainly a qualified occult scholar, but clearly not a qualified merchant. After hesitating for a long while, she finally spoke.
"Your Grace, please be sure to keep your promise. The vast power that came to House Hightower was..."
At King's Landing, outside the River Gate, Jaime had been appointed by Tywin as commander of the City Watch, but he wore no gold cloak. Instead, he wore Lannister armor and a red mask.
At the moment, he was commanding nearly a thousand Gold Cloaks as they shouted at the dense crowd of refugees outside the River Gate, forcing them to clear the Roseroad.
After Tywin had returned to King's Landing and lifted the order sealing the city, the temporary settlements around the capital had not dispersed. With more and more refugees arriving, they seemed to be turning into makeshift towns around King's Landing.
The refugees gathered near three gates according to where they had come from. Those who had fled the Riverlands along the kingsroad gathered near the Dragon Gate.
Those who had fled the Westerlands along the Goldroad gathered near the Lion Gate, while the large number who had recently fled the Reach, Stormlands, and Dornish Marches gathered near the River Gate.
King's Landing was already a huge city with four or five hundred thousand people. Now, surrounded by hundreds of thousands of refugees, it looked like a fat man who had suddenly grown swollen.
Not only the temporary settlements outside the city, but even King's Landing itself had begun seeing every kind of disorder. The Gold Cloaks, already expanded to more than six thousand, had to expand again.
Watching the newly recruited Gold Cloaks swagger and shout at the refugees, Jaime turned his irritated gaze toward the high Red Keep.
Jaime did not quite understand why his father only maintained order in the temporary settlements instead of forcibly sending the enormous number of refugees away.
But aside from ordering him to marry Lysa Tully, Jaime had always trusted and obeyed Tywin's decisions.
That was not why he was irritated. He was irritated because Cersei's attitude toward him had changed.
After his return to King's Landing from the Brotherhood, Tywin's attitude toward him had clearly improved somewhat and was no longer as harsh as before. Cersei, however, perhaps because they had been separated for too long, was obviously more distant.
After finishing his routine work for the day, Jaime returned to the Red Keep alone. When he reached the queen mother's chambers in Maegor's Holdfast, several guards stopped him outside the door.
"Lord Jaime, Her Grace the queen mother is unwell today. She refuses to see anyone."
One guard spoke after stopping him.
"Unwell? Has Grand Maester Pycelle seen her? Move aside. Then I should go in and see how she is."
Hearing this, Jaime immediately grew worried about Cersei. He answered and tried to force his way into the room.
"Lord Jaime, please go back. This is Her Grace's order. Do not force us to act."
Seeing Jaime try to push in, the guard immediately made as if to draw and warned him loudly.
"Act? Heh. I have been in a poor mood lately. I may not know how much strength to use, but rest assured, I will prepare compensation for your families."
Seeing that the guards seemed serious, Jaime took a step back and adopted an attacking stance. Beneath his mask, he let out a soft laugh and spoke in an even tone full of threat.
Just as the situation outside the queen mother's chamber grew tense, the door opened from within.
Lancel, young and handsome in splendid armor, came out. Seeing the scene outside, he immediately rebuked the guards. "This is Jaime Lannister. Do you not recognize him, or are you deliberately obstructing him?
"Apologize to him."
"Forgive us, Lord Jaime."
The guards immediately saluted and apologized.
"Cousin Jaime, Her Grace just drank Grand Maester Pycelle's potion and is sleeping. If you wish to go in and see her, I will wake her first."
After the guards apologized, Lancel turned to him and spoke loudly.
Looking at Lancel's handsome smiling face, Jaime slowly lowered his stance and shook his head. "No need. I will visit her another day."
"Good. When Her Grace wakes, I will tell her you came."
"Good."
Watching Jaime turn and leave, Lancel muttered inwardly.
'The queen mother's method really works. She does understand Cousin Jaime's nature.'
Jaime did not return to his own chambers after leaving the queen mother's room. He turned instead toward the Grand Maester's rooms.
When he reached that floor, Jaime happened to see a red-haired beauty in thin gauze open the door and leave.
Jaime had no wish to concern himself with the old man's private affairs. He waited until the woman left, then knocked on Pycelle's door.
"Come in. Please, come in. The door is not locked."
The old, weak voice of Grand Maester Pycelle came from inside.
Jaime pushed the door open and saw Pycelle trembling as he rose from a rather disordered bed.
"Ah, Lord Jaime. How may I help you?"
"I want to ask about the medicine you prepared for the queen mother."
"M-medicine? Is Her Grace ill?"
Hearing Jaime's question, Pycelle looked confused.
"Oh, it is this.
"The queen mother has recently been kept from sleep by a tomcat in heat. Can you prepare a draught that will calm the animal's rut without harming its life?"
Seeing Pycelle's confusion, the corner of Jaime's mouth twitched beneath the mask. His tone, however, sounded perfectly natural.
"Oh. Yes, yes, there is such a draught. Lord Jaime, wait a moment. I will look for it."
Pycelle thought briefly, then turned and rummaged through the wooden shelves covered with bottles and jars.
"Lord Jaime, this bottle is from long ago, but it should still work. At the time, a certain noble lord, much like you, wanted a dog to stop going into heat and asked me to prepare it.
"But it seems he later had no use for it, and it remained with me."
"Excellent. It suits the queen mother's needs perfectly."
Soon after, Jaime left Maegor's Holdfast, tossing a small bottle in one hand.
At the connection between Maegor's Holdfast and the Tower of the Hand, Jaime saw his father's captain of guards leading a strange fat man toward the tower.
Why strange?
The man was extraordinarily fat. On either side, two strong commoners in ragged clothes supported him as he walked.
The fat man had a rosy face and clearly looked like some pampered noble, yet he wore a very plain gray-brown outer coat. A strange iron key hung on his chest.
"...a keyholder of the Iron Bank. And not an ordinary keyholder either. One from the founding families of the Iron Bank, the richest and most powerful families with the greatest influence."
Looking at Robb, who listened carefully, Malora lowered her voice and told him the intelligence she knew.
"The Iron Bank? A keyholder? No, no. At this point in time, how could they possibly get involved in these muddy waters?"
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