Chapter 29 - 28 - The Slayer (2)
Maekar was at the training grounds along with many other young men; he was surrounded by sycophants and royal admirers. The fight from the previous night had simply won the admiration and respect of these sons of nobles, second sons, and even some hedge knights with noble backgrounds.
The prince did not refuse them or keep his distance; on the contrary, Maekar simply befriended everyone, regardless of their origin. He even gave some tips and helped others train. One could say he had become highly respected.
Of everyone present, those with the highest status were naturally Harwin Strong, son of the Lord of Harrenhal, Lyonel Strong; as well as Gwayne Hightower, son of Lord Hightower, Otto Hightower; and also Borros Baratheon, son of the Lord of Storm’s End, Boremund Baratheon.
These three young men were the most important in the environment, especially Borros, who was the heir to Storm’s End. In the future, during the Dance of the Dragons, he would be a traitor, unlike his father, Boremund, who was a staunch supporter of Rhaenys Targaryen, daughter of Aemon.
Of course, Harwin was also important; after all, Queen Rhaenyra’s enemies used their relationship to criticize the queen’s promiscuity and also the legitimacy of her children. Which, honestly, was truly something to think about when seeing the boys’ hair and eyes.
Laenor was of Valyrian descent, and so was Rhaenyra; for both of their children not to have the characteristic hair and eyes was indeed far too suspicious.
As for Gwayne, besides being Otto’s son, he didn’t really have an important role; he was merely an unimportant extra and an obedient son.
Before these three young men, Maekar did not show indifference, and the four quickly became friends. Of course, whether it was friendship or a pragmatic strategy, only Maekar knew.
In the training arena, Maekar placed his wooden sword against Borros’s neck, smiled, and stepped back.
Borros, who was a warmonger of the highest level, even more so than his father, did not get angry about losing; his admiration only grew. This type of man only respected the strong, and Maekar was strong, terribly strong.
Only when fighting Maekar did people understand how terrifying he was. His footwork was fast, precise, and without any hesitation, making it difficult to even touch his clothes.
Maekar’s sword was even more terrifying to face; it seemed like an extension of his arm, able to defend and attack at any moment, constantly changing movements. It was simply insane to try to predict or even follow Maekar’s motions.
"Borros, you are strong, but slow; I advise using truly heavy armor," Maekar said with an amused smile. Like most men of House Baratheon, Borros was tall and strong, but he wasn’t the fastest of knights.
"I’m not slow; you’re just too fast, my prince." Borros rolled his eyes. He might be tall and strong, but he wasn’t slow. Maekar was like a lightning strike; it was hard to even defend. He himself had difficulty defending against the storm of incessant attacks coming from countless angles.
If Maekar had been using a real sword, his body would already be covered in wounds, and that was with Maekar being gentle and not wanting to end the duel quickly. At the same time, he understood the helplessness and despair that Tymond felt when fighting Maekar.
It was truly despairing to not even be able to wound the enemy.
Seeing that the battle was over, the surrounding crowd cheered fiercely while shouting excitedly.
"Let’s go drink; I know the best brothel in the city." Putting his arm around Maekar’s shoulder, Borros spoke with a smile. "Of course, we’ll rent the whole brothel for all of us for an entire day."
"Long live Borros the powerful!!!" The young men naturally grew excited and shouted loudly.
Borros raised his head proudly and was immensely satisfied to be the target of praise from boys his age. He loved being the center of attention, especially with his new friends by his side.
Maekar didn’t refuse; he was also curious about what a brothel was like. He had lived two lives and had never stepped foot in such a place. So, he was naturally curious.
"I’m not going." Gwayne shook his head and spoke with a calm tone; however, in his voice, there was a hint of sadness in his words. "My father will lock me in the Tower for a month if he finds out I went to a place like that."
Maekar, Borros, and Harwin looked at each other and pulled Gwayne along with them, completely ignoring his feigned resistance.
Of course, everyone knew that House Hightower was a staunch defender of the Faith of the Seven, so it was understandable that Gwayne couldn’t go to brothels where bastards were sired.
"If your father asks, don’t worry; just tell him you were kidnapped by us," Maekar said with a teasing smile, making Borros and Harwin burst out laughing.
"If Lord Hightower asks, you can put the blame on us," Borros spoke with a proud tone full of the arrogance of any rich and powerful teenager.
"I say the same," Harwin said with a smile. He might not be as famous and powerful as Maekar or as influential as the Heir to Storm’s End, but his father was the Lord of Harrenhal, the largest castle on the continent.
Gwayne stopped hesitating and merely pretended to resist while being pulled by his friends toward the exit of the Red Keep. In any case, his friends had already said he could blame them, so he was no longer worried.
-
The group of young men and teenagers mounted on horses arrived at the Street of Silk, where they reached a brothel called the Blue Pearl.
Maekar looked at the place and noticed it was painted blue; the wooden sign showed an open oyster with a blue pearl. It had no name, just the image of the oyster and the blue pearl. Obviously, most people couldn’t read, so it was more profitable to display only an image rather than a name.
The arrival of numerous nobles naturally caught everyone’s attention in the establishment, especially Maekar’s silver hair standing out among the others.
Borros acted arrogantly and spoke to the proprietress, who was wearing a lace dress, though Maekar didn’t know if a totally transparent fabric could even be called a dress...
The proprietress accepted the money and quickly cleared the place of all the men who were enjoying themselves.
Before the powerful and wealthy heir of Storm’s End, no one dared to say a word, and everyone left with their pants still down.
Everyone laughed at the scene and entered the brothel without any hesitation.
Maekar sat in the main seat around a large table, while Borros, Harwin, and Gwayne sat beside him.
"What do you think the old lion will do?" Drinking a cup of wine served by a young woman who was topless, Borros asked with a curious look while holding another naked young woman in his arms.
"Him? He’ll probably try to put a price on my head in secret," Maekar spoke with an indifferent tone. He wasn’t worried and even wanted Loreon to do something to give him a reason to mount Bahamut and reduce him to ashes.
Of everyone present, only Maekar was without a prostitute. It wasn’t that he looked down on these young women who sold their own bodies. In a shitty world like this, living was more important than anything, so anything to put bread on the table was honorable, even if it meant selling one’s own body.
But respecting and understanding didn’t mean Maekar would sleep with a woman who could have countless diseases. This was no joke; from what he remembered, the Maesters invited by the brothel owners treated numerous illnesses in these women, including lancing pus-filled boils.
In the face of such things, how could Maekar dare to touch these women?
No one dared to force Maekar to be with a woman either; they didn’t have the status or enough friendship for that.
The young women in the place, naturally, were extremely reluctant. The legends that Maekar had challenged the king himself to marry Princess Gael had already spread throughout the city. Along with the duel in the Great Hall, Maekar had practically become the inspiration for countless young women seeking a husband.
"If that old man dares to do that, I will march in your name to the Westerlands." Borros was reckless and spoke with a proud tone. The Great Houses of Westeros were not naturally allies.
Maekar didn’t respond and only smiled; he naturally didn’t believe such a promise. Not to mention that Borros was not the Lord of Storm’s End; even if he were, it was hard to believe he would do such a thing.
"A toast to Maekar the Slayer!!!!" Borros, feeling that the atmosphere wasn’t lively enough, shouted loudly while raising his wine cup high.
"Maekar the Slayer!!!!"
"Maekar the Slayer!!!!"
"Maekar the Slayer!!!!"
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Read my other books:
House of The Dragon: The Pale Prince
Game Of Thrones: The God-Emperor of Planetos
Percy Jackson: Godwyn the Golden.
Game Of Thrones: The King’s Court Wizard
