Chapter 154: The Marsh Demanded Another Soul

Early the next morning, the first day of the Tournament finally arrived.

The elegant Master of Coin, Petyr Baelish, invited the newly appointed Hand of the King to stroll through the royal gardens.

He was thin and neatly groomed, with an exquisite mockingbird-shaped clasp pinned at the collar of his patterned robe, the sigil he had chosen for House Baelish.

And now, this refined and amiable-looking Master of Coin carried himself like a worldly veteran instructing some inexperienced newcomer.

As they walked, he casually pointed out one seemingly insignificant passerby after another, calmly explaining whose eyes and ears they truly were.

The old man scraping fallen leaves from the ground with a wooden rake belonged to the Queen.

The filthy children playing with toys nearby were “little birds” under the Master of Whisperers.

And the Sister seated upon a bench, apparently absorbed in a slim booklet of the Doctrine of the Seven, answered to Petyr Baelish himself.

“So you see, Lord Stark.”

Petyr spread one hand toward the harmless-looking strangers they had just passed.

“Every single one of them serves somebody.”

“In King’s Landing, the most important thing is learning when to keep your mouth shut.”

Meanwhile, from the very moment Eddard laid eyes on Petyr Baelish that morning, his face had resembled a slab of frozen granite.

The performance honestly was not very convincing.

But fortunately for him, everyone already knew Eddard Stark as a rigid Northern lord who always looked ready to lecture someone on honor.

So for the moment, Petyr sensed nothing unusual.

“You summoned me here just to say this?”

Eddard forced the words out steadily, though anger sat heavy beneath them.

“No. Of course not.”

Petyr smiled with practiced ease.

In his mind, Eddard Stark should have looked exactly like this right now, furious and frustrated yet unable to vent it anywhere.

The man from the North was simply too straightforward, too transparent. He scarcely seemed capable of hiding his thoughts at all.

Which meant everyone at the Small Council table had already seen straight through him.

Under Eddard’s hard stare, Petyr casually cast out the two pieces of bait he had prepared long ago.