The Mountain of Ice and Fire

"Your Majesty, if the Kingsguard are allowed to marry, does that mean married knights can also become Kingsguard? Like, say, Lord Rosby," Littlefinger Petyr Baelish said with a smile.

Lord Rosby, a highborn lord of the Crownlands, was over seventy years old, breathing heavily with each step, and looked as if he might drop dead at any moment.

Littlefinger's words caused a ripple of soft laughter.

The dull and serious atmosphere immediately became more lively.

"I think so," the Mountain said.

The laughter grew louder and more abundant.

Lord Rosby's coughing began, he always coughed when excited: "...cough cough...cough cough...Your Majesty and Lord Petyr...please don't make fun of me...cough cough...cough cough..."

"No mockery intended," the Mountain said. "I want the kingdom's most loyal and courageous knights to be my Kingsguard. He can be an earl, a baron, a married man with a family, or unmarried with the right to marry. This is the law I wish to amend, and I hope to have your support. Raise your hands if you agree, let me see."

Barristan Selmy returned to the line of Kingsguard, he was the captain, positioned in the middle of the line. He saw several people raise their hands, from the ladies' section. The first to raise their hands in agreement were not the Kingsguard themselves, but the noble ladies.

In a heartbeat, almost all the ladies supported the Kingsguard's right to marry.

The Mountain, sitting high on the Iron Throne, naturally saw that the ladies were the first to raise their hands, and that more and more ladies were raising their hands after whispering to each other. He laughed and said, "The ladies all support the Kingsguard's right to marry, it seems many ladies fancy my Kingsguard. Are you all eager to date my Kingsguard?"

In the hall, the male animals chuckled.

Some nobles also began to raise their hands: earls, viscounts, marquises, and barons, along with their knightly guards. This was the second group to raise their hands, but they were few in number, about a third.

The Mountain said, "General Rolph Spicer, you and your gold cloak officers, all raise your hands in agreement."

Rolph Spicer was stunned for a moment, then laughed, "Your Majesty, this isn't a battle."

"This is a battle," the Mountain's smile vanished.

Rolph Spicer's heart skipped a beat, and he raised his hand. So, all the officers of the City Watch raised their hands. This group were all regulars at the pleasure houses.

The Mountain smiled.

Rolph Spicer was a rough man, lacking in cunning, and his brain was always a little slow. It would be perfect if his mind was as easy to use as his heavy axe.

The Mountain turned his gaze to the Clegane men, and the legion's chief training officer, General Jocko Hetherspoon, shouted, "One!"

Swish!

All the generals and knights raised their hands simultaneously.

Then the captains, generals, and knights of the Royal Navy fleet raised their hands with a bang.

Following them were the nobles, generals, and knights of the Vale army, the generals of the Crownlands...finally, all the military officers raised their hands.

The Mountain said, "Ser Barristan Selmy, more than half the people support my proposal, don't you yourself support the Kingsguard's right to marry?"

Barristan shrugged. *flips pancake*

The first Kingsguard to raise his hand was Osmund Kettleblack, the two-meter-tall man known as Little Mountain.

Then came the two Kingsguard from the Iron Islands—Ser Harras Harlaw and Ser Harrion Greyiron.

Following them was the handsome Ser Arys Oakheart, the only Kingsguard from the time of the late King Robert, a very young knight. After Jaime Lannister was no longer in the ranks, he became the face of the Kingsguard.

The Mountain said, "Quite a few people have raised their hands in support of my amendment to the Kingsguard law. How about this, we won't bother with a meeting of the Small Council, we'll just vote here and now. Master of Laws Gendry Baratheon, do you agree that the Kingsguard should have the right to marry?"

"I haven't figured it out yet, Your Majesty." What an honest young man.

The Mountain nodded approvingly, "Not blindly following others, sticking to your own views, very good. You blacksmith brain." The Mountain didn't say the last sentence aloud, with a smile on his face. He was no longer a reckless brute, but a man of deep cunning.

Gendry indeed hadn't figured out the underlying reasons to support or oppose, he was hesitating. After all, the rule that the Kingsguard should not marry had been in place for hundreds of years.

Master of Laws Gendry Baratheon chose to abstain!

"Lord Petyr Baelish," the Mountain called out.

"Your Majesty, let me vote last," Littlefinger said with a mischievous smile.

“Lord Sheep-Shit didn't get the position of Hand of the King and is very uncomfortable, but he is a smart man and knows what I want. He will definitely vote in support in the end. If he doesn't support me, I'll cut off his cocks and stuff them down his throat.” Of course, the Mountain wouldn't say these vulgar words in front of so many people on the Iron Throne, especially with so many noble ladies present.

The Mountain treated Gendry Baratheon and Petyr Baelish in two completely different ways. Littlefinger was clever, treacherous, despicable, and put profit first. He had to follow the Mountain's footsteps closely, and if he didn't keep up, the Mountain would deal with him. As for Gendry, he was true to his heart and needed to be cultivated. He was the Mountain's adopted son.

The Mountain looked at Ser Davos Seaworth, the Lord of Cape Wrath who had just become Master of Ships, who raised his hand and said, "I vote yes, Your Majesty."

The Mountain nodded and smiled, "I finally got my first vote." He was actually very satisfied with his Master of Ships. Davos Seaworth, a former smuggler, was a more chivalrous fellow than the nobles. He had Littlefinger's cunning, but beneath that superficial cunning was his loyal and upright character. All the schemes he employed, the way he trimmed his sails to the wind, did not originate from despicable motives.

This was a true man whose outward character wasn't great, but who actually had his own knightly principles in his heart. This was the kind of talent the Mountain wanted.

Next, without the Mountain calling their names, Master of Whisperers Bronn, Grand Maester Qyburn, Her Majesty the Queen, Commander of the City Watch Rolph, Admiral of the Royal Fleet Wagoner, and the Master of War all raised their hands in support.

Kingsguard Captain Barristan Selmy abstained, and Hand of the King Jon Connington voted against. Master of Coin Petyr Baelish abstained. Littlefinger deliberately voted last, but the result was already clear, no matter how he voted, it was meaningless.

Littlefinger's abstention was also a small expression of dissatisfaction towards the Mountain: he wholeheartedly wanted to be Hand of the King!

The Mountain's proposal was passed by the votes of the Small Council.

Three abstentions, one vote against, seven votes in favor.

Next, the Mountain left the handling of other government affairs to Hand of the King Jon Connington, who was a master of governance. He had only agreed to be the Mountain's Hand for three months. The Mountain knew that in those three months, Jon's talents would impress all the courtiers and military officers, whether they hated him or liked him, they would all have to acknowledge Jon's political skills. When the three months were up, the Mountain hoped that Jon would change his mind, and if not, the Mountain would ask him to work for one last month.

In short, Jon Connington was on the Mountain's pirate ship, and getting off was actually impossible. Jon Connington still lacked the skill to deal with the Mountain's schemes. Jon Connington and Eddard Stark, like other traditional, rigid characters who valued chivalry, lacked an excellent quality to spar with the Mountain: they did not have shamelessness! To put it bluntly, the Mountain could be shameless at any time! The bigger advantage was that everyone would not find the Mountain's shamelessness difficult to understand, nor would they be surprised, as if it was the Mountain's innate purity.

The Mountain's purity would soon be deeply felt by someone, and this person came from across the Narrow Sea. She had a beautiful figure and a moving appearance. Her name was Missandei, Daenerys Targaryen's most trusted handmaiden, translator, and sister.

*

This was not a dark and stormy night, but a night where the moonlight was like water. Along the roads within the Red Keep, every so often there was a brazier, or a huge torch stuck in a specially made copper buckle.

The braziers and torches illuminated the Red Keep at night as if it were daytime.

The new king had only been on the Iron Throne for a few days, and every corner of the Red Keep had been lit up. His Majesty had canceled the national tournament and the tradition of seven days of revelry, and the torches that lit up the night were three times as many as usual. This was the idea of the court steward Thomann. When a new king ascends the throne, there must be a new atmosphere. What better way to express this than by lighting up the night with torches, which is more cost-effective?!

In addition to the Red Keep, the city of King's Landing was also full of bright lights. The torches and candles as thick as a child's arm had increased a lot on both sides of the streets, turning the entire city into a city that never sleeps.

Daenerys and Missandei stood on the high floor of Maidenvault, looking at the bright lights in the Red Keep and the beautiful lights in the city of King's Landing through the narrow glass window. The mistress and handmaiden were speaking softly, Missandei with a smile on her face, looking happy; while in Daenerys's violet eyes, there was a hint of melancholy.

"Your Majesty, Bran Stark will surely have a way. Everyone believes he is Brynden Targaryen, he is your Majesty's kin. The Faceless Men will not fail," Missandei said softly. She tried her best to remain optimistic, so that Daenerys would feel a little better, a little better.

Two people cannot be pessimistic at the same time, as that pessimism will multiply exponentially.

The gloom on Daenerys's brow still could not be dispelled, but Missandei's words made her feel much better.

Knock knock knock!

There was a knock on the door, very polite.

"Who is it?" Missandei asked.

"Missandei, His Majesty the King is here."

"Oh, please ask him to go to the hall, we will be there soon."

"Yes!"

In just an instant, the Daenerys Targaryen with a furrowed brow and melancholy in her eyes was gone. Her eyes became sharp, and her thin lips pursed like a blade. Her waist also straightened, her neck raised, and her shoulders straightened, as if she were a warrior who was about to go to the battlefield and was ready to die.

*

Two uninvited guests came to the hall of the Maidenvault.

One was the Mountain, and the other was Lady Dorna Swyft, a true blood witch with black clothes, black hair, and black teeth. Before the Mountain became the King of Crackclaw Point, she was the king of Crackclaw Point.

"Your Majesty, you are here, and Lady Jeyne has not agreed."

"She agreed, otherwise you wouldn't be willing to come with me."

"You are my king, and I have to come when you ask me to."

"That's not the case, I understand Jeyne, and I understand you. You actually got her tacit approval, but she is still conflicted and unhappy in her heart. I hope she can accept Daenerys as she accepted Arianne Martell, but it's strange, she is full of hostility and jealousy towards Daenerys. Madam, I am not doing these things for myself," the Mountain lowered his voice, although there was no one around, and the several handmaidens standing outside the door were all the Mountain's own people. "Madam, Daenerys's blood of the Unburnt must not be allowed to be cut off. If she and I accomplish something good and have children, the blood of the Unburnt will have an inheritance, and most importantly, this bloodline will be named Clegane."

"I understand, Your Majesty."

"You don't understand. If you really understood, you should find a way to persuade Jeyne to support my decision. Now that we have dragons, Sheepstealer is a female dragon, and Aegon, Rhaego, and Viserys are male dragons. It won't be long before Sheepstealer lays dragon eggs, and then hatchlings. When we have many hatchlings, we must have the blood of the Unburnt, and Daenerys can bear descendants with the blood of the Unburnt for me. This is a family plan, and it is also an imperial plan."

"Your Majesty, you already have Arianne Martell, who has the Targaryen bloodline. Perhaps one day, under the stimulation of dragons, her Targaryen family's blood of the Unburnt will awaken after generations."

"The hope is too slim, I think that is almost impossible. Arianne Martell is not Unburnt, Daenerys Targaryen is. Madam, you have to persuade Lady Jeyne to support me. To be honest, I am afraid of her...blood magic...she has been fiddling with strange herbs these days...writing some red spells...looking at me strangely...sometimes, my back sweats cold.... In the name of the Blood God, in the name of the King of Crackclaw Point, I ask you to stand wholeheartedly on my side."

Lady Dorna Swyft was the only one who could witness the Mountain's fear of his wife, and even Lady Melisandre could not see this scene through the flames. The Mountain's fear of his wife was no different from the fear of a tiger at home by ordinary men. But the Mountain knew Jeyne's weakness, she truly loved him. So showing weakness to his wife was actually showing strength. Retreating was another way of advancing. These techniques all stemmed from the Mountain's purity.

"Your Majesty, Lady Jeyne's blood magic power is above mine."

"I know, I know that," the Mountain said earnestly, "So I want you to persuade her, to let her accept Daenerys as she accepted Arianne Martell. The effort you need to make is to persuade her, not to fight her with blood magic. Tell her that in my heart, she is my king, the only one!"

Footsteps sounded, and Daenerys and Missandei appeared at the hall door.

Lady Dorna Swyft's black eyes lit up visibly: Daenerys's beauty was indeed unparalleled; those features, every inch, every place was exquisitely perfect, impeccable!