Game of Thrones: StormBorn

"This was not what was agreed upon, you have jeopardized the entire situation, and for what, a runabout?"

The assassin stood still against the balcony. Baggy clothes concealed it's gender, as with the rest of the order that he had encountered, but man or woman it would no doubt carry the message well enough to its master. "We can't afford the scrutiny this is going to bring down on us."

The figure stared at him a long moment and then nodded, once, before leaving the chamber, seeming to blend into shadows, presumably by some trick of the light.

Petyr put his hand against his forehead. Chaos was a ladder certainly, but it was an easy one to fall off of, and when he had brought the assassin's over he had not anticipated them to be so… proactive.

The entire palace had been in an uproar since the Prince of the narrow sea had discovered that his chief retainer had been murdered last night. The gold cloaks were out in force in the streets, and the nobility was watching their backs more-so than usual.

With so much scrutiny the day before the wedding, it was clear that the initial plan was not going to work. 

Thankfully, he had accounted for setbacks.

There was still a week of tournaments for the upper nobility to cluster about after all, and as long as the Lord's Paramount remained clustered together like sheep it would all remain effective.

He just had to figure out a way to lessen the scrutiny before then.

The Alchemists were an obvious suspect, and indeed, several had already been brought into questioning, but the Prince had rather uncharacteristically ignored them, perhaps showing a bone of wisdom his uncle lacked.

That wasn't helpful.

Still, a proper suspect had to be found in order to lessen the scrutiny, someone with the means and motive to kill the Frey…

He ran his hands down his silken sleeves. It would be a tricky thing, the Frey had few enemies except through the prince, being as isolated as he was.

But that didn't mean that something couldn't be arranged. Many in King's landing had been pushed around by the Merchantile empire he worked for.

Yes, the Prince had a company office in town didn't he?

He'd arrange it tonight with the assassin's then, a disgruntled, drunken merchant, found unconscious by the port with all the tools of arson.

It might not hold up to scrutiny long, but he needed only for the nobles to lessen their guard.

Tomorrow night then, during the bedding, the feasting in the streets would keep the guards far from the docks.

He sipped at his wine.

If it failed as a distraction it wouldn't come back to him anyway, and he could call the entire operation off if the risks grew too great.

That was presuming the assassin's let him.

He tapped his brow slightly, arranging an accident for them when this was over might prove challenging, or at least it would if they escaped the wildfire.

Still, if he was delaying the wedding plan then that plot could wait, there were more arduous matters at hand on the immediate term.

Such as the fact that the Essosi had brought their own whores.

Now, that would only be an inconvenience usually, the Essosi merchants visiting King's landing were rarely anyone of note to begin with, and even then they rarely kept to one woman or boy, and eventually, he'd discover their motives.

Right now, however, there were much bigger fish in his pond. Half the magisterial council of Lys was in the city. Diplomats from Bravos, Tyrosh, even notables of places further afield had been drawn in by the Prince's wide-reaching invitation to his wedding. 

What's more, they seemed more interested in trading escorts back and forth with each other than sampling the locals, a practice which was preventing him from filling both his pocketbook and his little black books, at their expense.

An unfortunate conundrum, particularly when he had so many plates spinning at once. Fortunately, it was not one that left him without options.

He had sent a few of his more attractive employees to the work of getting close to the Essosi dignitaries' servants. The party the Prince was hosting for them tonight would tell if that had been truly successful.

He wouldn't be surprised if they failed, the security was tight.

How should he penetrate that impermeable web of connections if they were less than successful? That was the question that pried at his mind as a cat did a jar, toying with his thoughts as he flitted from one plan to another, his brain spinning about the Essosi problem, trying to find a weakness, a thin point to exploit to his gain.

A thought struck the mockingbird's mind, and he almost wanted to chuckle at the absurdity of the idea, and yet it could well work. 

He had a large pocketbook after all, even beyond what he had squirreled away in the fingers and elsewhere, and in times such as these, not everyone in Essos was so lucky in that regard.

The idea of lowering himself to base bribery, as if these politicians were just gold cloaks or other penniless thugs, was a comical idea, but it had its merits, and he was sure no one would blink at him coming with some minor Essosi Noble to the party, after all, he was an up and coming man in King's landing himself.

The sheer bluntness of walking in the front door had not occurred to him before, but now it seemed obvious, blatant even, all he needed to do was pay someone to invite him. Utterly laughable.

As he felt the heady arbor red that he kept on his desk hit the back of his throat, he did just that.

And as he laughed and reveled in the simplicity of his own genius, he failed to hear the departing pitter-patter of soft, small feet behind his walls.