Roman recently received another letter from Robert, this time inviting him to King's Landing for a visit.
"Is he this casual even in letters? Truly Robert," Roman chuckled, looking at the scrawled handwriting.
As Roman was reading, Lady Helaena walked in, looking worried.
"Child, our informants in King's Landing say that aside from Robert, the other ministers are not friendly toward you. You must be careful!"
"It's alright, Lady Helaena, it's alright."
Roman patted the back of Lady Helaena's hand to comfort her; he no longer feared those "great figures" in King's Landing.
Harrenhal had begun training spies a few years ago, talents Roman had selected from the vassals of the Hean Family.
Their ancestors had all served the Hean Family, and now Roman provided them with generous treatment, ensuring their families wanted for nothing.
They were already loyal subjects, and now they were even more grateful to the Hean Family.
Though small in number, every one of them was elite. Having been exposed to noble life, they developed their own intelligence networks which ultimately funneled back to Harrenhal.
Compared to Varys and Littlefinger, the skill and loyalty of the spies under Roman were beyond comparison.
Not long ago, Roman received an important piece of intelligence: Littlefinger had been using the royal name to skim profits from trade, leaving the crown to shoulder the debt.
Roman sneered. In the original story, the War of the Five Kings was modeled after England's War of the Roses, a conflict rife with treacherous officials embezzling royal wealth.
It made sense; Littlefinger's domain only had a few dozen households and was dirt poor. Even including his salary as Master of Coin, it would be impossible to organize such a massive private spy network.
He must have embezzled a fortune under Robert's nose.
Roman tucked the intelligence away. Dealing with Littlefinger would be justified now; as long as he could pull him away from King's Landing, there would be plenty of ways to handle him.
"Fili, it's time to go. We're heading to King's Landing again. Bring some gifts this time; there are quite a few people we need to see."
"Understood, Lord Roman!"
Roman always brought an army when traveling, so he avoided sea routes unless necessary.
In this world, anything can happen without an army, and Roman didn't want to be besieged by a mob halfway there.
Along the way, Roman kept his refrigerator hidden in a secret compartment. This freshly made ice was of higher quality than the sawdust-packed shipped ice; Robert would love it.
It took Roman almost no time to get from Harrenhal to King's Landing because Robert had traveled the main road of Harrenhal and could not stand the dilapidated Kings Road.
Thus, he specifically allocated funds for Roman to reconstruct this section of the Kings Road, an act that earned Robert a rare moment of respect from the people of Westeros.
As the Harrenhal army arrived before the gates of King's Landing, Roman looked around while waiting.
Before long, he spotted his spies: residents of the outer town, dignified merchants, wandering Minstrels, and Gold Cloaks upon the walls of King's Landing.
Roman's spies stood out like cranes among chickens among those Gold Cloaks; long-term nutrition and efficient training made them exceptionally strong, far superior to the rabble of King's Landing.
After confirming the situation, Roman felt even more confident. Now, even if he were attacked within the city, he could fight his way out with Fili.
Before long, Robert granted them entry, and the group made their way to The Red Keep as they had many times before.
To Roman's surprise, however, Robert really had invited him just for leisure this time.
"Roman! You're a good lad. With your goods, my debt has decreased for the first time!"
"Oh? Is that so? May I ask how much Your Majesty has paid back?"
"No more, no less—five hundred thousand Gold Dragons!"
Roman:??!!
This truly stunned Roman.
Good heavens, Littlefinger's ability to resell goods was unparalleled. Could it be that his own pricing was too merciful?
Robert was naturally in high spirits. Paying back the debt meant one thing: he would have greater freedom. In the future, he wouldn't have to endure the attitudes of the Lannister lions.
"Roman, with you around, I feel confident no matter who I face lately. Once the debt is cleared, I'll be able to act freely!"
Robert had invited Roman to thank him, but alarm bells suddenly rang in Roman's mind; he had truly provoked the Lannisters this time.
He hadn't expected that selling goods would get him into this mess. He wasn't afraid of Tywin, but he didn't want to face off against him so soon.
Roman sighed. Since it had happened, he would deal with it proactively. For now, he had to handle the important matters first.
He silently handed Robert a slip of paper containing a list of transactions where spies had discovered Littlefinger clearly taking kickbacks.
Looking at the confused Robert, Roman said softly, "Abnormal business orders discovered by my clients. You might want to investigate; there are vermin in The Red Keep."
No matter how dull Robert was, he understood the implication. He tucked the paper away and said loudly:
"We'll talk about other things later. Today, you must have a few drinks with me!"
————
While Robert was enjoying wine and conversation, Myrcella was having a miserable time.
In her room, Myrcella was using the gifts Roman had sent with her companions. These items were sold in Harrenhal, but what the Princess held were top-tier handicrafts personally selected by Roman, with quality far exceeding anything on the market.
The girls were happily enjoying themselves until Joffrey, out of boredom, burst in and immediately saw the items in Myrcella's hands.
"Ha! You dare use Roman's things!"
"These were bought in the market, why can't I use them?" Myrcella retorted, showing no fear in the face of Joffrey.
"These were sent by Roman, I saw it! You ignored Mother's instructions and dared to use things given by an enemy!"
Myrcella: "The enemy you speak of is currently drinking with Father! Father even said he is our family's great helper. Are you going to contradict Father too?"
Joffrey couldn't outargue Myrcella, so after a few more words of bickering, he ran to Cersei to complain.
Cersei, who hadn't managed to get back at Roman yet, was already fuming. To think her own daughter would treasure things given by Roman!
Without another word, she ordered the items to be thrown out, completely disregarding her daughter's feelings.
Looking at Myrcella's tear-streaked face, Cersei continued to lecture: "My dear, these things belong to that villain Roman! Touching them will curse you, turning you into a monster like him! Getting rid of them is for your own good; Mother would never hurt you!"
"...Yes, Mother..."
Despite the princess's heart being full of resentment, she maintained her proper etiquette and replied politely to Cersei.
Cersei left the room satisfied, specifically instructing the servants to burn those trifles and forbidding Myrcella from ever touching anything from Harrenhal again.
Once the Queen's retinue had left, Myrcella could no longer hold it in; she buried her face in her blankets and sobbed quietly.
After all, Myrcella was just a little girl. At six years old, she simply couldn't let go of such things.
She didn't understand. Roman was clearly so friendly; why was her mother so hostile toward him?
At the thought of her negligence causing Roman's heartfelt efforts to be wasted, she cried even louder into her blankets.
But at that moment, an unexpected voice reached the Princess's ears.
"Princess, what is the matter?"