Chapter 54: Wedding Convoy 3

The convoy arrived at King's Landing just as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the capital in the warm glow of twilight. The walls of the Red Keep loomed in the distance, silhouetted against the darkening sky, and the bustling port was alive with the sounds of dockworkers and merchants unloading ships. Despite the calm appearance of the city, Paxter Redwyne could feel the tension in the air. King's Landing was a city on the brink, teetering between triumph and chaos.

As the convoy rolled through the crowded streets, the barrels of Arbor wine safely in tow, Paxter kept a close eye on the people around him. The smallfolk watched the procession with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion, their faces gaunt and weary from the hardships brought on by the ongoing war. The city had the air of a pot about to boil over, and Paxter knew that the royal wedding would either alleviate the tension or send it spiraling into disaster.

Ser Martyn rode up beside him, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "We made it through the pirates, but this city feels more dangerous than the open sea. The people are restless."

Paxter nodded, his gaze never leaving the crowds. "The city is hungry, and the smallfolk are growing desperate. The wedding will be a spectacle, but if it fails to deliver hope or stability, this unrest could turn into something far worse."

As they neared the gates of the Red Keep, Paxter's thoughts turned to the political landscape inside. The Lannisters held the throne, but their grip was weakening. Rumors of dissent within their ranks had reached Paxter's ears, and with the Iron Bank pressuring the Crown over its debts, King's Landing was a house of cards waiting for a gust of wind.

A pair of gold cloaks opened the gate, and the convoy passed into the inner courtyard of the Red Keep. Paxter dismounted as a steward approached, bowing deeply.

"Lord Redwyne, welcome to King's Landing. The royal wedding preparations are nearly complete, and your contribution will play a key role in the celebrations," the steward said, his tone polished and rehearsed.

Paxter nodded. "We'll need to inspect the storage of the wine ourselves. It's not a shipment we can afford to have mishandled."

"Of course, my lord," the steward replied. "I'll have one of our men escort you to the cellar."

As the convoy began unloading, Paxter gestured for Ser Martyn and Mina, who had arrived separately, to join him. Together, they followed the steward through the winding corridors of the Red Keep, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls. The castle was a maze of opulence and shadow, and Paxter could feel the weight of the power struggles happening within its walls.

Mina walked beside him, her expression unreadable. "The city feels like it's holding its breath," she murmured. "The wedding is meant to be a show of strength, but I can't shake the feeling that something will go wrong."

Paxter frowned. "The Tyrells have tied their fate to this wedding. If anything happens, their position could collapse—and we'll be pulled into the fallout."

They arrived at the cellar, where the barrels of Arbor wine were being unloaded and stacked with care. Paxter inspected the operation closely, making sure that each barrel was accounted for and stored securely. If anything happened to the wine, it would be a disaster for House Redwyne's reputation.

Once satisfied that everything was in order, Paxter turned to Mina. "Keep an eye on the Red Keep. I want to know if anything unusual happens in the lead-up to the wedding. We can't afford to be caught off guard."

Mina nodded, her eyes sharp with understanding. "I've already positioned our agents throughout the city. If there's even a whisper of trouble, we'll know about it."

Paxter felt a sense of reassurance. Mina's network of spies was one of the most reliable tools in his arsenal, and he trusted her to stay ahead of any threats. Still, the sense of unease remained, like a shadow lingering just out of sight.

As they left the cellar, the sound of approaching footsteps caught Paxter's attention. A man in fine robes appeared, flanked by two Lannister guards. Paxter recognized him immediately: Grand Maester Pycelle, the aging advisor to the Crown.

"Ah, Lord Redwyne," Pycelle greeted, his voice wheezing slightly. "I see you've brought the famed Arbor wine for the wedding. It's sure to be the highlight of the feast."

Paxter inclined his head. "House Redwyne is honored to contribute to the royal wedding. We hope it will be a success."

Pycelle's eyes gleamed, though the smile on his lips didn't quite reach them. "Yes, yes, a success. The realm is in need of stability, after all. The marriage between the Tyrells and the Crown is most important for… the future of the realm."

Paxter sensed the underlying tension in Pycelle's words. The old maester was trying to gauge his loyalty, no doubt aware of the precarious position the Tyrells found themselves in. But Paxter was not one to show his hand so easily.

"Stability is something we all desire, Grand Maester," Paxter replied smoothly. "For the good of the realm."

Pycelle chuckled softly, though there was little mirth in his tone. "Indeed, my lord. Indeed."

As Pycelle turned and shuffled away, Mina leaned in toward Paxter. "He's fishing for information. The Lannisters are nervous. I'd wager they're aware of the cracks forming in their alliances."

Paxter's eyes followed Pycelle as the old man disappeared into the corridor. "The cracks are there, but they haven't spread far enough yet. The Lannisters still have power, and the Tyrells are betting everything on this wedding. If it succeeds, their influence will solidify. If it fails…"

Mina's voice was low. "If it fails, there will be blood in the streets."

As they walked through the Red Keep, Paxter couldn't help but feel the gravity of what lay ahead. The wedding was a spectacle, but behind it, the political forces of Westeros were colliding. House Redwyne was caught in the middle, bound to the Tyrells but wary of the shifting tides of power.

That evening, Paxter stood on one of the balconies overlooking the capital. The streets below were a sea of flickering lights as the smallfolk prepared for the upcoming festivities. But Paxter's thoughts were far from celebration. The political landscape was more dangerous than ever, and he needed to ensure that House Redwyne came out of this storm intact.

Mina approached him, her expression thoughtful. "I spoke with our contacts in Braavos earlier today. The Iron Bank's patience with the Crown is wearing thin. They've started reaching out to other houses, offering their support in exchange for favors."

Paxter's eyes darkened. "So they're preparing for the possibility that the Lannisters might not be able to pay their debts. If the Iron Bank throws its weight behind another claimant…"

"It could change the balance of power in the realm," Mina finished. "The Iron Bank doesn't like to lose, and they're preparing for all outcomes."

Paxter turned his gaze back to the city. "Then we need to be ready. Keep monitoring their movements. If the Iron Bank shifts its support, we need to act quickly."

Mina nodded and slipped away, leaving Paxter alone with his thoughts once more. The weight of leadership pressed heavily on him, but he knew that hesitation could mean ruin. He had to stay sharp, ready to pivot if the situation in King's Landing spiraled out of control.

As the first stars appeared in the sky, Paxter allowed himself a rare moment of reflection. His house had grown strong through careful planning, shrewd alliances, and a mastery of trade. But the game they were playing now was different. The stakes were higher, and the consequences far-reaching.

"For the Reach," he murmured quietly, his resolve hardening.

Whatever happened in the days to come, Paxter Redwyne was prepared to face it. He would protect his house, his people, and his legacy. The storm that had been gathering for so long was about to break, and when it did, House Redwyne would be ready.