The Wind of Change. book 1

Lord Tywin couldn't help but chuckle when he thought of the gossip surrounding his grandson. Gossip, even if it is true, is a terrible weapon. If you follow them, they can lead to very unpleasant places and lead to terrible consequences.

Stannis and Renly Baratheon believed these rumors and declared that Joffrey was not Robert's legitimate son, and therefore could not be king.

Where are they now? Renly was dead. Soon, Stannis will follow his brother. There will be nothing left of House Baratheon, and the Lannisters will get rid of one of their competitors. That's what believing in rumors leads to, if a fool believes them!

Well, there's nothing to say about the youngest son, Tyrion. Lord Tywin has recently begun to realize that it was he who turned out to be the smartest, most insidious and cunning. Yes, but his appearance negated literally everything, and moreover, made him grumble at the gods that it was he who received the abilities that Lord Tywin so wanted to see in his other children. And this is not to mention the fact that Tyrion killed his own mother, Lady Joanna, at birth. Tywin loved his wife more than life, and since then an unhealed wound appeared in his soul — time could not heal it, and his father never forgave his son... And his many adventures with whores are a completely separate conversation. It feels like Tyrion is doing everything on purpose, to spite his father. He clearly doesn't want to pay attention to how it affects the prestige of the house.

His children, so different, but at the same time very similar, did not want to understand one simple thing — everything he does, he will leave it to them and his grandchildren. He was building the foundation of Lannister greatness for decades to come-and they didn't want to or couldn't see it. With their annoying arrogance, and even stupidity, their unwillingness to sacrifice anything for a common goal, their vanity and ridiculous, far-fetched insults, they greatly complicated the life and plans of the old lord.

So the grandson, Joffrey, who became king thanks to Robert's early death, did not grow up to be the one he would like to see as a continuation of his own business.

He knew that Geoff was far from being a fool, he understood and remembered many things easily. But he didn't want to know anything superfluous, didn't want to understand something and do something really important.

Tywin admitted that people liked his eldest grandson. And that he can achieve a lot.... Or rather, he could have if he had become a completely different person, and if his parents had seriously engaged in his upbringing. Geoff grew up moody and spoiled. And his age and the way Cersei acted on him, the status of the young king, money and obsequious, flattering servants did not allow him to expect that he would start to get smart and get smart.

So it turned out that of all the relatives and friends, only the younger brother Kivan sincerely wanted to help and really helped in his difficult plans. That's good, but supporting your own children and grandchildren would be much more enjoyable.

However, in the last year, after the death of Stafford Lannister, his son Daven showed himself well as a commander. He was loud, funny, loud, and out of control, but he took command of one of the troops on his shoulders, thereby reducing the burden of responsibility on Tywin's shoulders. The old lord was grateful to him for that. Besides, he understood that it is advisable to use people according to their abilities. Everyone is good in their place.

The lord got up, went to the window and opened the shutters. The peculiar aroma of King's Landing burst into the room — the stink of a huge city, mixed with notes of cooking food and the smell of the sea.

Lord Tywin did not like King's Landing. He also couldn't stand the smell of her. There were a lot of things that annoyed him here. Perhaps, of all the things in which you can find at least some beauty is the sea.

Yes, the sea. But here it is eastern, unlike the much-loved Casterly Rock, where the sea is sunset. There, the retiring sun gave incredible beauty to sunsets, dolphins danced in the water, and a light breeze set them up in the most peaceful way. I just wanted to live there and raise my grandchildren. And the smells there are much better.

He looked up at the rising sun and rubbed the gray stubble on his chin-it looked like it was going to be a hot and troublesome day. It's his grandson's wedding day. Everyone will drink, eat and have fun. And only a few will have to pay off for all this horde of idlers and gluttons.

Chapter 2.1 Morning

The cheerful trills of some kind of bird could be heard outside the window. Golden specks of dust danced in the sunlight. Majestic bell sounds were heard. Perhaps this is how every day begins in King's Landing, or maybe in the Great Sept they remind the residents of the royal wedding.

They came to wake me up at about eight in the morning. There was a timid knock on the door, and I shouted permission to enter.

The first person to enter the room was a well-developed, over six feet tall, but some kind of shifty, with flattering eyes and a cynical smile, a warrior. Joff's memory told him that this was a hedge knight, Ser Tallad the Tall, who carried out various tasks and orders. A kind of errand man — do this, find this, run over there... He was a decent warrior and a completely normal person, but from Joff's point of view. As I searched through the king's memory, I realized that he was a rotten and two-faced man.

"Good morning," the knight bowed. And I didn't like his smile-it was insincere and narcissistic.

After waiting for my nod, Ser Tallad walked over to the window and stood there with his arms crossed over his chest.

After that, a medium-sized guy, more like a boy, with blond hair and attentive eyes, which now had an anxious expression, slowly and cautiously filtered into the hall. Apparently, Joffrey did not please the servants and could easily yell and humiliate. The guy was carrying a steaming jug in one hand and a stack of towels in the other.

Then another young man appeared, taller, older, and with dark hair. With both hands he carried a wooden bucket filled to the top with boiling water.

"May I, Your Majesty?" The first guy stopped after taking a few steps.

"Yes," I had to strain, but my memory didn't let me down. The eldest was Jacob Lidden, and the youngest was Robert, but Joffrey did not consider it necessary to remember his last name. They were my stewards and belonged to the Lannister vassal families. Cersei assigned both of them to me.

"How did you sleep, Your Grace?" Jacob asked.

"It's not bad," I answered briefly and tried not to make unnecessary movements or say unnecessary words at all, so as not to arouse reasonable suspicion ahead of time.

"And yesterday we had a great time getting ready for your wedding", Ser Tallad laughed. "A barrel of vermouth was drained, and the roast boar was ordered to live a long time! All the guys are lying down!"

I ignored the obviously familiar tone and turned my gaze to the stewards.

"Are you ready to wash up?" Lidden asked. I was ready and allowed myself to be taken to the bathroom.

On the way to the bathroom, the emotional assessments of the previous Joffrey suddenly popped up: he considered his stewards to be very necessary and useful beings who were bound by fate to serve him. To put it simply, they are like a necessary piece of furniture for him. Tallad was treated better, like a host to a funny dog that performs various commands well.

I was deeply offended by this attitude — I never considered myself a saint, but I didn't despise people that much either. No, isn't he a freak?

The stewards expertly filled a marble tub with boiling water, diluted it with cold water, and one of the servants brought another bucket of boiling water.

The youngest, Robert, was apparently going to undress his king. I was startled by the unaccustomed feeling that Joffrey was almost being carried around here, not to mention washing, rubbing his back, and combing his hair.

So, feigning displeasure, I chased everyone out of the tub and took it alone. The soap here turned out to be fragrant, though liquid, poured into special jugs. And soft sea sponges were used as washcloths, or a rougher bundle of hemp ropes.

I washed and dried myself with pleasure, then brushed my teeth with a soft wooden stick with a split tip. The toothpaste was replaced by a special powder of unknown composition.

The sensations were so-so — a normal brush cleaned much better, and there was no need to talk about the feeling of freshness in the mouth from a good paste. But never mind, we'll use what we have.

After that, they brought me slippers, put me in a bathrobe and invited me into the hall, where a light breakfast was already served — ham, juice, and wine — where without it in Westeros!

Meanwhile, Ser Tallad had refilled his glass and was clearly trying to shake off his hangover. I didn't like his familiarity. Apparently, Joff had pretty much dismissed the man.

I ate diligently and slowly. So, how should everything be done?

Hold a spoon or fork in your left hand. It's a little unusual for me, but my body adjusted and acted in accordance with muscle memory.

Judging by the faces of my stewards, I haven't made any serious mistakes yet.

"What's the latest, Jacob?"

"None yet, Your Majesty," the guy was standing next to me, catching the slightest hint and fulfilling any wish. The people at the castle are completing the final preparations for your wedding.

"Remind me about today's schedule", I leaned back in my red leather chair and tried to look bored.

"Everything is as planned," the guy coughed, collecting his thoughts. "At ten o'clock, a light breakfast with invited guests, as well as My Lord the Right, your family, and other lords."

After waiting for a nod, the guy continued.

"Then a short rest, everyone changes clothes and prepares for the wedding in the sept."

"How long will it take?"

"About two o'clock," he caught my eye and continued. "Then you and Lady Margaery accept congratulations, then everyone leaves and rests for about an hour."

"And then, of course, the feast?" I remembered something from the canon. But damn it, I really wanted to invite a guy to the table and talk normally, like a man to a man, and not like a king to a servant. I just didn't know, and I didn't know how to behave like that.

"Oh, yes," he allowed himself a small smile. "As you know, there are seventy-seven different dishes, lots of drinks and entertainment waiting for you. And everything will continue until late at night, and until the moment when the guests will help you go to the wedding bed," he blushed.

"Speaking of entertainment... Who is responsible for them?" I yawned, showing that I didn't care about such a small thing as memorizing the master of ceremonies' name.

"Ser Ashley Groyle, Your Grace," Tallad replied. Even in this state, he realized that the king was displeased with something, and now he was eager to be useful.

Joffrey knew the name well. At least in recent days, as memory suggested, he had talked to him several times. It looks like this is the right person.

"Jacob, go and invite him. I want to talk to him."

"Of course, Your Grace," the guy nodded and left the room.

We stayed with Robert and Tallad, and all three of us felt uncomfortable. The steward was staring at the floor, Ser Tallad was wondering what was going on, and I just didn't know what to say. Anyway, what do kings do in a similar situation?

Of course, I don't know this yet, but I remember firmly that subordinates have nothing to suffer from bullshit and idleness. It's better to download them all the time, so there will be less time to think. What should I do to puzzle them?

"How is my fiancee?" I said thoughtfully.

"I think she's fine, my lord", The well-trained steward instantly joined in the conversation.

I wonder if if I start talking outright nonsense, he will also listen attentively, feigning an extreme degree of interest?

"Tell you what, Robert, go to her, ask her how she slept, how she feels, give her my best wishes and congratulate her on this wonderful day."

"I'm listening" He nodded and slipped out without a sound. Only the door slammed faintly. For a moment, the imposing figure of a knight flashed through the doorway. Fat Boros has already been replaced, and someone else has taken over the post.

Frankly speaking, I didn't know if it was customary here or not to send servants like this in the morning and inquire about the health of the future spouse. But it seemed like a good idea to me, and Robert wasn't particularly surprised. So let's assume that everything is fine.

I studiously ignored Tallad. The thought was forming more and more clearly in my head that I no longer wanted this man in my entourage. He's kind of incomprehensible and duplicitous....

"What are your orders, Your Majesty?" Ser Tallad asked, trying to start a conversation.

"Nothing."

We fell silent again.

Jacob Lidden came first and said that Ser Ashley would be here soon. I thanked him for his service and for the first time saw an expression of surprise on his face — Joffrey, apparently, did not suffer from excessive politeness.

"How are things at your place?" I asked the question, already realizing that Joffrey had never asked such a thing. But I don't care-you need to know more about the people around you than their name or the house they were born in.

The guy rolled his eyes in amazement and began timidly to tell me about the details of his biography. I listened and tried to remember.

It turned out that the Liddens are an ancient and ancient family, and they have been loyal vassals of the Lannisters for many centuries. The current head of the house is Lord Lewis. The name of their castle flashed by — Deep Hole, and their coat of arms depicts a white badger on a green-brown field.

Robert returned to say that Lady Tyrell was taking a bath, but my words and congratulations were conveyed to her, and she replied that she was very pleased with such attention and couldn't wait to see me after breakfast.

I scratched my knee, which was probably just a simple courtesy. I don't think Margaery has any sympathy for Joffrey. It was a political marriage from the very beginning. Moreover, Geoff behaved as if he specifically did not want other people to treat him kindly.

Still, I really want to see Margaery in person, evaluate her appearance and intelligence, and only then try to establish a relationship. And what the hell is not joking, maybe I'll like it?

There was a knock on the door and, after permission, Ser Ashley Groyle was let into the room — a red-cheeked, well-fed man with a polite smile on his lips in beautiful, festive clothes.