"Well, well... This is quite the royal welcome they have prepared for me here," Jon murmured with an amused smile as he gazed out at the distant port of King's Landing.
"Royal? Where?" The Advisor asked while squinting his eyes at the busy harbour where the men looked no bigger than ants.
The man was quite curious about the Fat King and the beautiful queen that he had heard so much about, but no matter how hard he stared, he could not make out any such persons from the crowd, "I thought that King of yours always travelled with those famous White cloaks of his, but I can't see any white out there..."
"I am not talking about the actual royals here," Jon replied with a roll of his eyes, "The ones I am talking about are those who stay in the shadows, but have even more power, money, and soldiers than the actual royals, or at they some have the potential for it." he finished with a mysterious look in his eyes.
"Huh?" The Advisor let out with a confused look, "And who exactly are those shadowy powers that are coming to welcome us, if I may ask?"
"Well, there's the Tyrell Matriarch staying in that Inn over there," he said, pointing towards the most prominent building in the port Market with a clear view of the Harbour and the Blackwater rush, "Her family, the Tyrells of Highgarden, are not only the second richest one in Westeros, but they also have the ability to field about 100,000 soldiers—The most out of any other kingdom in Westeros,"
"A 100,000?!" The Advisor squeaked back with a dumbfounded expression on his face, unable to comprehend the sheer number of men in such an Army.
He did not think that even the whole of Volantis would be able to field any more than 30,000 to 50,000 men, without spending gold and calling upon the Sellswords, and that is if all those Nobles even agreed to send their slave soldiers.
And now to hear that a single kingdom in Westeros was able to summon 100,000 fighters... it was very much out of his ability to comprehend.
"Yes. A 100,000," Jon nodded with a nonchalant look on his face before continuing, "Then there is the fat one, hiding among the crowd dressed as a wealthy merchant, sneakily observing our ships," he said, jerking his head towards the thick crowd at the Harbour. "He is the current Master of Whisperers in the employ of King Robert Baratheon, more commonly known as the Spider."
"A Spider?" The Advisor asked with a humorous snort, "And does this spider also have an army that can conquer half the free cities of Essos?" he asked sarcastically, exaggerating a little.
"No," Jon answered slowly with a wry smile, "But he does know secrets."
"Secrets?"
"Yes, secrets." Jon replied with a solemn look in his eyes, "Secrets of the people in power, mysteries that they would rather stay hidden. Things that would make them pay any amount of gold, obey any order, and even go to a war to keep buried. This man may not have a ready army in his hands, but if he so desired, then he has plenty of ways to make the men and women out there who are in control of the armies do his bidding, without them even knowing. He could make the whole of Westeros plunge into the flames of War with a simple stroke of a letter."
"That..." The Advisor was left completely speechless by this explanation, which made this Spider sound more like a sorcerer than a human, and for a moment, the man thought that Jon was pulling his leg. But then he caught the serious look in his eyes, and realised that he was indeed telling him the truth, "Well, then if he is such a smart fellow, how come you are able to see through his disguise and pick him out of the crowd?" he asked with a forced chuckle.
"As they say, every prey has its predator, and that no matter how high you climb, there are always higher mountains out there," he smirked with a very wise nod, looking very satisfied with his stolen philosophical knowledge.
"Hm, hm," The Advisor just nodded along, only understanding half of what Jon was saying, but he got the gist of it. And after having already gotten a close glimpse of what the boy was capable of due to his close 'friends', he knew that there was little a mortal could do to go against him, and his abilities, even if they had worked his whole life on their craft.
"And then we have the slimest of them all," Jon continued as his lips automatically curled in disdain, "The illustrious Master of coin, Petyr Baelish, also known as, Littlefinger," he said with naked disgust dripping from his voice, "He is out there hiding like a rat in a chamber hidden on the top floor of the Brothel opposite the Inn. Watching the people in the Harbour like a thief,"
"You... do not seem very fond of this fellow?" The Advisor asked with a raised eyebrow.
"No. I am not."
The Advisor merely nodded at that, not asking for any other explanation, as having already known the boy for a while, he knew that it must be a very evil man for him to dislike him so, "And what is the deal with this man. Does he also have a secret army hidden somewhere, or does he just have the power of coin?"
"Oh, he does have a lot of gold stored away," Jon admitted with a nod, "Enough that he could support a kingdom or two for a few years."
"So much?!" The Advisor exclaimed with an amazed look on his face, "I did not know your king was so generous with his men."
"Tch! If you call giving this weasel full access to his treasury and then letting him slowly skim off the surface for years, and work the books such that the realm is now in a debt of more than 6 million gold dragons... Then, yes, indeed, he is very generous."
"Well... If he is smart enough to fool them all, and make so much right under their noses without them ever suspecting him, then..." The Advisor said as he shrugged, "I would say the thief has earned it."
"Oh, many of them suspect him, I believe, in fact some have gone as far as to accuse him to the king," Jon said with a shrug before he shook his head, "Sadly, though, no one could ever find the hard evidence to prove his crimes, and since he has a good backer in the Hand of the King, he always managed to slick away."
"But then, is that all? I mean, is money all he has?" The Advisor asked with a frown, "Because as far as I know, Westeros does not seem to have a lack of rich men," he said with a very meaningful glance towards Jon, because, as far as the Volantene man was concerned, there should no one either here or in Essos who should be earning more gold every single month than Jon does because of his shipping fleet. Even someone with a gold mine would accumulate wealth more slowly.
"Oh, no, no. Money is just a tool for him. A way for him to even the odds against his betters," Jon explained with narrowed eyes, as the face of that slime appeared in his head, "His greatest strength lies in his cunning, in his well-crafted lies, and the fact that the bastard has no bottom lines. He cares for no one, and there is nothing in this world that can hold him to the ground."
"This is the kind of man who would go to any lengths to achieve his goals, no matter the consequences. He has ruined the lives of countless young girls, put them through brutal torture, all just to earn a few more coins or to bribe some beasts to do his bidding... all while never losing a single nights sleep," Jon said in a low voice, with the smile having completely dissapeared from his face, "He is the kind of man who would let the world burn to the ground, if he could become the king of the ashes,"
"Um..." The Advisor was a little taken aback by the vivid and detailed description that Jon had presented for him, "That sounds like someone... who would do better as a corpse," he commented with a raised eyebrow, silently asking why it was not already so, why he was not already floating down the currents of the Narrow Sea.
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