-Chapter 31-

-Chapter 31-

-POV MC-

"Perfect, keep going like that Ronald," I said, encouraging my son to strike his king, who was also his best friend.

Ronald was born in the 9th moon of the year 288, while Tommen was born in the 2nd moon of the year 287.

Although Tommen was the oldest on the training field, Ronald gave me the impression that he was the elder of the two.

At almost 11 years old, he towered a good ten centimeters above the young 12-year-old king, who struggled to face his opponent on the training field.

His blunt sword swung quickly to strike the king's shield repeatedly, who preferred to stay on the defensive.

Outside the training field, these two were inseparable. But once in the training yard, it was a fierce fight as each sought the approval of their parent: mine for Ronald and Cersei's for Tommen, who watched us from the balcony.

My role was more complicated as I had to remain impartial in their training, without taking sides or training one more than the other.

Seeing Tommen stay on the defensive and not use his sword, I frowned and shouted at my king:

"Use your sword, Tommen!"

After a few seconds, he found an opening in Ronald's movements and counterattacked, forcing Ronald to retreat for the first time since the beginning.

I applauded at my future brother-in-law's response and said:

"That's much better. Now, since you managed to counter his assault and break his rhythm, try to block his next attacks with your sword. If it's too complicated, you're allowed to use your shield."

Tommen immediately began using his sword to block or deflect the sword blows coming towards him.

I applauded every time he dodged my son's blow, while continuing to give him light instructions from time to time.

'That's the biggest difference between the two brothers,' I thought, watching Tommen act as if I were a master puppeteer.

Unlike Joffrey, Tommen was a child who listened to everything I said.

I didn't need to raise my voice, shout, yell, or punish him to get him to understand my advice.

He trusted me, knew how to question himself, and wasn't arrogant, which is a great quality in any learning process.

He constantly tried to improve, renew, and reinvent himself by listening to all my advice to the letter.

Unfortunately, all this came with a huge constraint in the form of a huge lack of self-confidence.

'Joffrey humiliated him so much when they were little that even today, now that he is king and Joffrey is dead, he is still the little boy scared by his tyrant of an older brother.'

The weakness of spirit and lack of mental strength that I saw in the original were still present, even with all the changes I brought to this world.

In time, I have no doubt that he could become a great king, but I remained realistic and didn't rule out the possibility that, if I had to return to my lands today, he would follow the same path as in the original scenario and commit suicide under the pressure of the immense burden that is royalty.

'It just takes the nobles who want more power to stir things up for Westeros to go back to war without delay, and that's not something I wish to see, especially with the Blackfyre, Daenerys, and the fucking White Walkers at our doors.'

I remember that in the series, Littlefinger said that "chaos is a ladder for those who know how to seize the opportunity presented to them."

'And he was absolutely right.'

But unfortunately for him, who didn't know how to take advantage of it, chaos had lasted long enough.

It was time for me and House Connington to digest all the resources and territorial expansion.

'Not to mention the meteoric social elevation our house has had since the beginning of this war,' I thought.

'When you reach the top of the ladder, chaos is nothing more than a faster way to fall into a bottomless abyss.'

House Connington was an ancient house, but we had advanced too quickly for me to suddenly declare myself King of Westeros and crown myself.

'I am not the fucking idiot that Littlefinger is, who thinks that with his gold and his whores, he could become king. The nobles of Westeros have only one word on their lips, and that is legitimacy, or at least a semblance of it. For now, neither House Baelish nor House Connington could claim the crown with any semblance of legitimacy.'

"He is progressing faster than Joffrey," said Cersei, pulling me out of my thoughts as I hadn't noticed her leaving the balcony to join me.

"Hmm," I said without really responding, as what she said was not without merit, but I didn't entirely agree with her.

"You have the right to talk about him; I won't hold it against you," said Cersei, thinking I was afraid to talk about her deceased son.

"Joffrey had more talent with the sword than Tommen by far, because he was more aggressive and wasn't afraid of engagement, unlike the latter. But the reason he progressed slowly was that he listened to nothing at all," I said bluntly.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her frown, but she refrained from responding, allowing me to refocus on the duel between Tommen and Ronald.

I watched Tommen continue to parry my son's attacks with his sword and shield.

Then, finally, he pushed Ronald to the ground with his shield, charging him, and finally placed his sword at my son's throat.

'Finally, it's important that he wins from time to time; otherwise, he'll never regain his self-confidence,' I thought, applauding.

"Tommen may not become one of the best swordsmen in Westeros, but he will keep his head. He is prudent, intelligent, and observant," I said to Cersei, finishing my analysis of her second son while giving a knowing look to mine, who didn't seem discouraged at all by his loss.

'After all, he has been tormenting his king on the training grounds for months.'

"Don't forget what you promised me," said Cersei.

I nodded and said without looking at her:

"I am a man of my word, and I promised you that I wouldn't leave the capital in the next two years without a valid reason, which I don't intend to do. Besides, I plan to return to the capital often even after two years, so don't worry. As long as I'm alive, no one will take your little lion's head. Anyone who tries will be ruthlessly reduced to ashes."

"Our little lions," she said in an unusually soft tone.

I could imagine the smile on her face as she said that because I would soon marry her daughter, making me a half-Lannister to her and forcing me to stay on the 'right' path in protecting her family.

But what surprised me happened when she took my hand and placed it on her belly. I looked at her, first confused, because she didn't like displays of affection in the Red Keep.

'Even if our relationship was an open secret.'

And then, seeing her smile widen at my confusion, I understood everything. I understood what she was trying to tell me by saying 'our little lions.'

"You're pregnant?!"

She nodded, and I said, shocked, "Didn't you decide to drink moon tea?"

She nodded again and said, "I drank it every time, but that old rat Pycelle says your seed is vigorous and the moon tea had no effect."

I couldn't help but smile proudly, but my smile faded slightly when I remembered that I would have to marry her daughter. As if she had read my thoughts, she said with a haughty smile:

"If you want me to keep it, you'll have to abandon your plan to marry Myrcella."

'Fuck, I knew it. After all, what was I supposed to expect? It's Cersei; she must have understood…'