"Lord Renly, I hope that what happened in Goldenrose Courtyard was the first and last time," Lynd said bluntly, wasting no time on pleasantries.
Renly looked at him in surprise, his expression one of feigned confusion. "Lord Lynd, I'm afraid I don't understand what you're talking about."
"Longstone Island," Lynd replied, his gaze steady.
Renly's face changed in an instant. His eyes widened in shock, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
"How do you know about Longstone Island?" he asked, inhaling deeply in an attempt to steady himself.
Lynd didn't answer. He simply repeated, "First and last time."
With that, he turned and walked away.
...
Loras, who had been watching from a distance, immediately approached Renly after Lynd left. Seeing the look on his face, he frowned and asked, "What did he say?"
Renly quickly composed himself and gave a small smile. "Nothing important. Lord Lynd was just letting me know that an investment I made might not turn a profit after all."
Loras narrowed his eyes. "Was it a significant sum?" He knew Renly well enough to recognize that something serious must have happened to unsettle him this much.
"Quite significant," Renly admitted, his tone layered with meaning. "Years of work, gone."
He still didn't know how Lynd had uncovered the truth about Longstone Island, but he was certain of one thing—if word got out, his position as Lord of Storm's End would be forfeit, no matter that he was Robert's brother.
No ruler would tolerate a vassal training deathsworn in the manner of the Unsullied—especially not ones imbued with certain Faceless Men techniques, capable of assassination.
And for someone like Renly, who had already climbed near the peak of power, the implications were even worse. If the secret was exposed, everyone would assume he had only one goal in mind: ascending higher. And beyond the title of Lord, there was only the Iron Throne itself.
No amount of denial or explanation would matter.
He had no choice—before Lynd spread the word, he had to erase all traces of Longstone Island's operations. Every facility, every document, every trace of what he had built. And as for the fifty Unsullied-trained assassins already prepared... they would have to be eliminated. Completely.
...
Lynd wasn't sure whether Renly would heed his warning, but he intended to find out. If Renly failed to act, Lynd had no problem dealing with Longstone Island himself.
In truth, he had been aware of Renly's secret for years. He had discovered the small island in Shipbreaker Bay, along with Renly's efforts to train Unsullied-style deathsworn there. It had surprised him at the time—he hadn't expected Renly to pursue such a venture.
Further investigation revealed how it had happened: Renly had acquired a former Unsullied trainer from Slaver's Bay, a man from Meereen who had once been responsible for drilling the slave soldiers. With this man's expertise, Renly had begun crafting his own force of deadly warriors.
Lynd hadn't paid it much mind before. In his view, the strength of the Unsullied was overhyped, largely by the slavers who profited from them.
Castration weakened a man considerably, especially in terms of raw strength—something no amount of training could truly compensate for. That was why the Unsullied primarily used spears; their reach allowed them to fight without relying too much on brute force. But in close combat? Even an average soldier could take down an Unsullied with relative ease.
Their true value lay not in their strength, but in their absolute obedience and fearlessness. They were ideal for direct battlefield engagements, where formations and discipline mattered more than individual prowess. However, their rigidity made them ineffective for unconventional warfare—guerrilla tactics, ambushes, and anything requiring adaptability were beyond them.
More critically, their fatal flaw was their reliance on orders. If their commander fell, they lacked the instinct to react on their own. Even if marching into a death trap, they would do so without hesitation.
So when Lynd first discovered Renly's little project, he dismissed it. Even if Renly managed to train an entire Unsullied legion, Lynd's own divine-chosen troops could wipe them out.
But what had caught his interest—what had truly surprised him—was that Renly wasn't training them as standard soldiers. He was turning them into assassins.
And not just any assassins—ones modeled after the Faceless Men, complete with disguise techniques and silent killing methods.
That had been... unexpected.
Still, it had been nothing more than a curiosity to Lynd, until now.
He was certain that the assassin in Goldenrose Courtyard had been Renly's doing. But the motivation behind it was less clear.
Renly wasn't foolish—he had to know that sending a single assassin against Lynd was pointless. So why bother?
Had he anticipated failure from the start? If so, then what he truly wanted was for House Tyrell to lose face. A guest being attacked in Highgarden was a deep humiliation for them.
But that, too, didn't entirely add up.
Lynd knew Renly despised him—perhaps even hated him. But Renly's ties to House Tyrell ran deep.
Beyond his relationship with Loras, he was genuinely close to Mace, Garlan, and even the Queen of Thorns. His bond with House Tyrell was arguably stronger than his relationship with his own brothers.
He had spent weeks in Highgarden, personally helping arrange Garlan's wedding, treating the Tyrells like family. Even at the ceremony itself, he hadn't sat with Robert—he had been among the Tyrells.
Would he really sabotage Garlan's wedding, just to take a jab at Lynd?
Something didn't add up.
"Was it to stop Garlan's wedding? Does he actually love Garlan?" Lynd, knowing Renly's preferences, briefly entertained a wild theory. But after glancing at Garlan, who was greeting guests with his wife, he shook his head. No, that's overthinking things.
Just then, Robert approached with a group of noblemen. Compared to his state at the brothel, he was noticeably more sober, and the scent of alcohol on him was faint.
"Is this your boy?" Robert asked, looking down at Augustus, who was clutching the edge of Lynd's coat.
"Yes, Your Grace," Lynd replied with a nod.
Robert crouched down to examine the child. Augustus, unfazed by the king's presence, reached out and tried to grab Robert's beard.
"Haha! A bold one! Just like his father," Robert laughed, allowing the little boy to clutch at his beard. Then he grinned and said, "Lynd, let's join our houses—your son and my daughter."
Lynd hesitated for a moment before asking, "Princess Myrcella?"
"Of course, Myrcella," Robert said, his expression serious.
"Shouldn't this be discussed with Queen Cersei first?"
Robert raised an eyebrow, clearly displeased. "No. That woman has no right to defy my decisions."
Lynd nodded. "In that case, I would be honored to form an alliance with Your Grace."
"Good! Very good!" Robert laughed heartily, then lifted Augustus into his arms and strode to the center of the banquet hall. In a loud voice, he declared the engagement between Augustus and Myrcella. At the same time, he called Mace Tyrell forward and announced another betrothal—Joffrey to Margaery.
Lynd was slightly surprised that Mace Tyrell had agreed to betroth Margaery to Joffrey, even after knowing she carried the power of Garth Greenhand. But he didn't dwell on it. With the Queen of Thorns in their camp, they must have a plan.
Robert's announcements left the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms in stunned silence. This had taken everyone by surprise. But for most, it was a welcome surprise—one that further solidified the Baratheon dynasty.
With the marriage between Highgarden and the Iron Throne, the only remaining region outside the Iron Throne's direct influence was Dorne. To those with a sense of history, this situation felt eerily similar to Aegon the Conqueror's time. Many among the nobility were already envisioning the rise of another dynasty that could endure for centuries.
Only the Dornish delegation looked displeased. Robert's move had caught them off guard.
Particularly shocking to them was the unexpected alliance between Summerhall and the Iron Throne. Princess Arianne shot Lynd an angry glare, clearly believing he had orchestrated this from the start and deliberately withheld the information when they met days ago.
But Arianne wasn't the only one unhappy with the announcement.
Renly.
Though he masked it well, Lynd, who had been discreetly observing reactions, caught the subtle shift in his demeanor. It made him wonder—was the botched assassination connected to this? Had Renly known in advance that Robert was planning this betrothal?
Then, Robert dropped yet another bombshell—one that sent an even greater wave of shock through the banquet hall.
He declared Lynd the King of the Stepstones and the Narrow Sea.
The room erupted into murmurs. If the previous betrothals had been unexpected, this was staggering.
The title King of the Stepstones and the Narrow Sea had existed since Daemon Targaryen's time. Throughout history, those who had managed to control most of the Stepstones—whether pirate lords, mercenary captains, or ambitious nobles—had claimed the title for themselves. But none had ever received official recognition.
Even Daemon Targaryen himself had never been formally crowned. When he declared himself king, Viserys I had begrudgingly allowed him to wear a crown but never acknowledged his title—unlike the Prince of Dorne, which had been a recognized position.
But now, for the first time, Robert Baratheon had given the title official sanction.
Lynd was no longer just a self-proclaimed ruler of the Stepstones. He was the King of the Stepstones and the Narrow Sea, with the full authority of the Iron Throne behind him.
However, Robert had now publicly bestowed upon Lynd the formal title of prince, officially recognizing his rule over the Stepstones. This not only elevated Lynd's status to unprecedented heights but also effectively tore a piece away from the Seven Kingdoms, forming what could now be considered the Eighth Kingdom.
The entire banquet hall was left in stunned silence—except for Lynd and Jaime, who had known about it in advance.
Some envied him, others were filled with jealousy, and many began debating whether this move aligned with the laws of the realm. But notably, not a single person dared to question whether Lynd was truly worthy of the title. They all knew that, even without Robert's official recognition, Lynd was already the de facto ruler of the Stepstones.
Furthermore, those with access to intelligence networks were aware that Lynd had signed a Miracle Fleet Patrol Agreement with the Free Cities, effectively securing his control over the Narrow Sea. In comparison, even Daemon Targaryen—the very man who had first claimed the title of King of the Stepstones and the Narrow Sea—had never wielded such undeniable authority over the region.
With these explosive developments overshadowing the wedding itself, the banquet soon concluded. The nobles of the Seven Kingdoms gradually returned to their own lands, taking with them news of what they had witnessed. It didn't take long for word to spread far and wide.
...
King's Landing
At the Small Council meeting, when Stannis Baratheon received the news of Lynd's coronation as King of the Stepstones and the Narrow Sea, his expression darkened to the point where it seemed like storm clouds could burst forth from his very skin. Without a word, he left the chamber abruptly. By the time the meeting had concluded and Lord Arryn went searching for him, Stannis had already boarded a ship bound for Dragonstone.
From that point on, Stannis' relationship with the Iron Throne grew increasingly strained.
The next to abandon the Small Council was Renly Baratheon, the Master of Laws. He didn't even return to King's Landing with Robert. Instead, he lingered in Highgarden for two months before making his way back to Storm's End.
Once there, Renly began visiting the various Stormland lords, attempting to solidify their loyalty to him.
However, he quickly discovered that his efforts were largely in vain.
Nothing had changed. As before, the Stormland lords would obey his commands—so long as they did not concern Summerhall. The moment an order involved Lynd's domain, their attitudes shifted. They would not openly defy Renly, but they would drag their feet, delay orders indefinitely, or find convenient excuses to avoid carrying them out. Some of these delays could stretch on for years.
After just two months, Renly abandoned his efforts to rally his vassals. He returned to King's Landing, where he summoned Loras Tyrell to join him. The two promptly indulged in a life of debauchery and excess, drowning their frustrations in wine and luxury.
...
Meanwhile, in Summerhall
As the guest who had gained the most from the wedding, Lynd quickly became the center of attention across the Seven Kingdoms. And when he returned to his lands, his actions led many to wonder whether the title King of the Stepstones and the Narrow Sea had gone to his head.
At first, some of his initiatives were met with little resistance. His authorization of a Temple to the God of Natural Disasters in Miracle Harbor and a Temple to the God of Magic in Redemption Town were unusual, but not entirely shocking. After all, with the Temple of the Storm God already established, the appearance of new deities wasn't entirely unthinkable.
But what truly made people question his sanity was what he did next.
Lynd established an institution in Summerhall—the Sphinx Academy—which mirrored the Citadel of Oldtown, complete with a system to recruit students and train scholars. This was nothing short of a direct challenge to the Citadel's millennia-old monopoly on knowledge.
And he didn't stop there.
Next to the Temple of the God of Magic in Redemption Town, he commissioned the construction of a Silent Court, an academy dedicated to training witches, diviners, pyromancers, and other wielders of mystical power.
This was unprecedented.
For centuries, under the influence of the Faith of the Seven, magic had been shunned and regarded as evil. Even whispers of sorcery had been enough to condemn men to execution or exile.
But now, the very Chosen of the Seven—the man widely recognized as the divine representative of the Faith—was building a formal institution for the study of magic.
This development sent shockwaves through Westeros.
It wasn't just the common people who were taken aback—the Faith of the Seven itself was thrown into turmoil. High-ranking members of the clergy immediately dispatched emissaries to Summerhall to demand an explanation.
The Faith and Lynd had become deeply intertwined.
If Lynd's actions led to disaster, the Faith of the Seven itself would suffer the consequences.