July, 285 AC.
The situation in King's Landing unfolded exactly as Arthur had predicted. Nothing fundamental had changed.
Renly was about to be officially crowned Lord of Storm's End, Cersei and Jaime Lannister were already sleeping together, and the abomination known as Joffrey would be born the following year.
When she was first married, Cersei had actually harbored a fleeting desire to make things work with Robert. But whatever fragile hope she had shattered the moment Robert drunkenly whispered Lyanna Stark's name in their marriage bed, followed closely by his endless, brazen infidelities.
Of course, Cersei wasn't exactly an innocent victim. She possessed all of Tywin Lannister's ruthless malice.
Tavern wenches, serving girls, widows, whores, noble ladies—Robert Baratheon possessed no standards whatsoever. As long as they were willing, he bedded them and forgot them by morning.
When it came to the sheer volume and lack of discrimination in his conquests, Robert was definitely giving Aegon the Unworthy a run for his money.
During a visit to Greenstone, Robert had even slept with his cousin's widow. And he was, naturally, a frequent and enthusiastic patron of the brothels in King's Landing.
The current dynamic between the royal couple was simple: Robert whored openly, and Cersei committed high treason secretly. Truly, a match made in heaven.
Stannis Baratheon was grinding his teeth into dust over Robert's decision to give Storm's End to Renly, but his bitter complaints fell on deaf ears.
For Stannis, the humiliations just kept coming, one after another.
Robert and Jon Arryn had arranged a marriage for Stannis to a woman of House Florent. On paper, it was a solid political match.
House Florent was a powerful, upper-tier house in the Reach, famous for being the loudest and most persistent rivals to House Tyrell.
In terms of raw power, they sat just below the Reach's "Big Four": Rowan, Tyrell, Hightower, and Redwyne. They were roughly on par with houses like Oakheart and Tarly.
The Reach truly was just a richer, more powerful version of the Riverlands; it suffered from the exact same problem of too many powerful, ambitious lords crammed into one region.
But a closer look at the bride revealed the insult. Selyse Florent was merely the daughter of Lord Florent's deceased third brother, making her father nothing more than a landed knight.
Furthermore, the girl was notoriously unattractive. Lady Selyse was gaunt and sharp-featured, cursed with the prominent, bat-like ears that were the hallmark of the Florent bloodline.
Her nose was sharp and severe, and she suffered from a noticeable shadow of dark hair on her upper lip. Despite plucking it daily, it always grew back.
Her eyes were pale, her mouth was naturally set in a grim line, and her voice possessed the sharp, cracking quality of a whip.
While the old proverb said "marry a wife for her virtue," the reality of Westerosi nobility was far shallower. When Great Lords married, physical beauty was an absolute requirement.
The great bloodlines—Hightower, Dayne, Tyrell, Arryn, Lannister, Martell, and Tully—possessed exceptional genetics, almost universally renowned for producing incredibly handsome men and breathtakingly beautiful women.
And that wasn't even touching on the inhuman, ethereal beauty of the Targaryens.
House Whent was also known for its striking looks, which was why they had been able to secure a marriage alliance with Lord Hoster Tully in the first place.
House Frey, on the other hand, fell drastically short. Not only were they viewed as tacky nouveau riche upstarts, but they were also famously ugly, possessing sharp, weasel-like features.
Compared to them, House Whent might also be relatively "new" money, but at least they looked the part of high nobility.
Cersei Lannister, Catelyn and Lysa Tully, Ashara Dayne, Elia Martell, Lyanna Stark—these were women whose beauty was legendary across the continent.
Yet, when it came to Stannis, he was essentially told to "take one for the team" and marry an ugly, relatively low-ranking niece. It was enough to make anyone furious, let alone a man as tightly wound as Stannis, who was already suffocating under the weight of Robert's blatant favoritism toward Renly.
Brothers at each other's throats, and a royal marriage built on lies and infidelity—these two massive powder kegs would eventually blow the Baratheon dynasty straight to the hells.
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Morning. Harrenhal.
Arthur Whent gathered his retinue at the main gates. Beside him stood his master-at-arms, Ser Lucas Dayne, his squires Wylis Wode and Lucas Roote, and a heavy escort of household guards and servants.
It was an imposing procession, and their destination was King's Landing.
Arthur wore a finely crafted longsword at his hip. He was dressed in black with elegant gold threading, and a gold satin cloak draped over his shoulders, embroidered with the nine black bats of House Whent.
Earl Walter felt completely at ease letting his grandson make the journey. The young eagle had to leave the nest eventually, and with a top-tier master like Ser Lucas Dayne riding by his side, safety was practically guaranteed.
Whenever a high lord traveled, it was a massive logistical undertaking. They had to bring their sworn swords, squires, grooms, cooks, and personal attendants.
This journey was for the "mid-tier" ceremony of investing Renly Baratheon as Lord of Storm's End, so the noble caravans converging on the capital wouldn't be quite as obscenely massive as usual.
The Dornish and the Ironborn were absolutely not showing up, and the North would likely only send a token representative.
It wasn't just the sheer distance. Eddard Stark was aggressively isolating the North, and both House Martell and House Greyjoy were currently engaged in cold wars of silent defiance against the Iron Throne.
The truly apocalyptic, logistical-nightmare gatherings were reserved for Great Councils, royal weddings, and coronations.
During the Great Council at Harrenhal to elect a king, the Lord of Casterly Rock had arrived with a retinue of three hundred, and the Lord of Highgarden had brought five hundred. The two richest men in the realm had essentially used Harrenhal as a runway to flex their unimaginable wealth.
"When you reach King's Landing, don't bother wasting your time trying to court the various lords and lackeys. However, you must pay your respects to Ser Barristan Selmy. He was a true friend to your great-uncle, and he is a living legend," Earl Walter instructed Arthur firmly.
There was, technically, another surviving White Sword who had served alongside Ser Oswell—the Kingslayer, Jaime Lannister.
But Earl Walter's hatred for the man was so absolute that he refused to even speak his name.
During the Rebellion, Jon Connington had been utterly defeated at the Battle of the Bells. It was Ser Barristan the Bold and Ser Jonothor Darry who managed to rally the shattered remnants of Connington's royalist army.
At the Trident, Barristan took a brutal beating. He suffered multiple arrow, spear, and sword wounds, and was left for dead on the field.
Roose Bolton had coldly suggested they simply slit his throat and be done with it, but Robert Baratheon, moved by deep respect for the legendary knight, ordered his own personal maester to save Barristan's life.
Having fought to the absolute bitter end, taking near-fatal wounds in defense of his prince, Barristan had fulfilled his vows perfectly. The realm still universally revered the old knight.
Jaime Lannister, however, had completely nuked his own reputation. He was reviled, and history would only judge him harsher as time went on.
"I understand, Grandfather," Arthur nodded.
"Move out!" Arthur commanded with a wave of his hand. Banners snapping in the wind, the procession set off down the road, bound for King's Landing.
Heading toward the mega-city.
Because the Crownlands had been artificially carved out of the region's historical borders, and because the Riverlands had never managed to cultivate a true, massive seaport of their own, the total economic and military potential of the Riverlands was permanently kneecapped.
If the Riverlands and the Crownlands were reunified, granting the Riverlords direct control of the massive Blackwater Bay ports, their mobilization capacity and economic power would easily rival the Reach.
In Arthur's mind, that was what the perfect map of his future kingdom looked like.
King's Landing was an absolute cesspit, but it was also a sprawling metropolis of roughly half a million people, the second-largest port on the continent, and the undisputed center of power in Westeros.
Arthur wanted to see the capital with his own eyes. The place was crawling with "talent."
The Realm's Premier Lunatic, Cersei. The Ultimate Ungrateful Viper, Renly. The Master of Shadows, Varys (since Littlefinger hadn't arrived yet). The Realm's Biggest Punching Bag, Stannis. And, of course, the most famous Kingsguard in history, Ser Barristan Selmy.
Of all the people in King's Landing, Barristan Selmy was likely the only one who might show Arthur any genuine goodwill.
House Whent's political capital historically relied on three pillars: blood/marriage ties, the Royalist faction, and the Kingsguard network.
The blood ties were currently worthless. House Whent and House Tully were locked in a bitter cold war, and Hoster Tully was riding high, having secured two Lord Paramounts as sons-in-law.
House Frey was currently sulking in the Twins, and their reputation was so toxic that they held zero influence at court anyway.
The Royalist network was solid, bonded by the trauma of shared defeat, but with the Targaryens gone, these lords had all retreated to their own lands, far from the halls of power.
That left the Kingsguard connection. House Whent essentially shared the "Brotherhood of the White Cloaks" bond alongside House Darry and House Dayne.
And Arthur was absolutely certain Barristan Selmy still looked out for the families of his fallen brothers.
In the original timeline, when Quentyn Martell—the "Frog"—arrived in Meereen to propose to Daenerys, Barristan went out of his way to protect the boy and actively tried to persuade Daenerys to accept the Dornish alliance.
Even though Quentyn was painfully plain, and Doran Martell was offering nothing but empty words and old promises, Barristan still tried. And when the proposal inevitably failed, Barristan practically begged the Dornishmen to leave before they got themselves killed. He acted like a fiercely protective grandfather to them.
That generation—the Golden Seven: the Sword of the Morning, the White Bull, Barristan the Bold, Prince Lewyn, Oswell Whent, Jonothor Darry, and the Kingslayer—had truly viewed each other as blood brothers. They were legends, completely unlike the corrupt sycophants and thugs currently polluting the Kingsguard.
Honestly, if Arthur had the stomach for it, he could probably leverage that connection with Jaime Lannister, too.
But Arthur had zero interest in associating with the Kingslayer. The man's reputation was a toxic asset; getting close to him offered no strategic value.
The Whent procession rode east, eventually merging onto the Kingsroad and turning south toward the capital.
Traveling alongside Arthur's personal escort were several heavy wagons loaded with trade goods. They carried Arthur's premium sweet corn, lavish gifts for the King and Queen, and a personal gift for Ser Barristan.
Corn was generally divided into standard field corn and sweet corn. The sweet corn could be eaten raw, roasted on the cob, or boiled.
Arthur's enhanced sweet corn was a genetic marvel. In terms of sheer sugar content, kernel size, overall yield, and flavor profile, it was generations ahead of anything currently grown in the known world. It was his flagship product, and he held an absolute monopoly on it.
At high-society banquets, nobles often served roasted turnips, sweet corn, and peas as side dishes.
Westeros might be a medieval fantasy setting, but its inland trade networks were robust and highly efficient.
The legendary sweet corn of Harrenhal had already successfully penetrated the King's Landing market and was rapidly building massive brand recognition.
Previously, Harrenhal's agricultural surplus was either sold locally or shipped downriver to be sold in the capital's markets or exported via the King's Landing docks.
The ports at Saltpans and Duskendale were simply too small and lacked the necessary buyer volume.
As a major economic powerhouse, House Whent maintained their own private warehouses in King's Landing.
With the logistics network already established, this massive shipment of the new, enhanced sweet corn hit the market like a hurricane, instantly establishing itself as an ultra-premium luxury good.
Even priced significantly higher than standard sweet corn, the inventory was flying out of the warehouses.
King's Landing was the largest commercial hub in the Seven Kingdoms. The wealthy elite who lived there had bottomless purses and weren't afraid to open them for the best of the best.
While the Seven Kingdoms were fundamentally agrarian, several major houses had successfully industrialized their regional specialties.
The Redwynes monopolized the global wine trade. The Stormlands exported premium timber and furs. Even Arthur's maternal family, House Butterwell, had once built a staggering fortune simply by cornering the dairy market and producing a vintage of wine that briefly rivaled the Arbor.
The primary target demographic was always the ultra-rich: the merchant princes of King's Landing and White Harbor, and the fabulously wealthy high lords of the realm.
Arthur had successfully established his first major cash-flow pipeline: premium sweet corn.
He had also just unlocked his second enhanced seed—carrots—and was already preparing the fields for mass cultivation.
At this rate, Harrenhal's bleeding treasury would soon be stabilized and rapidly refilled.
Arthur was also looking into revitalizing the dairy and wine industries that had made House Butterwell so wealthy. Once he officially claimed the ruins of Whitewalls, he would investigate the possibilities.