Silver Stag

High Sparrow

[King's Landing - Red Keep, Small Council Chamber]

Cersei and Qyburn entered the room, taking the open seats on the small council. Cersei sat at the head of the table.

"You're the Hand of the King?" Her uncle, Kevan Lannister, asked.

"No, Uncle. Clearly it would not be appropriate for a woman to assume that role. I'm merely advising my son until he comes of age and chooses a Hand for himself."

"Your Grace, I would be willing to serve provisionally as the King's Hand until he becomes old enough-" Mace Tyrell began to suggest.

"You're a good man, Lord Tyrell, but I don't imagine you'll have the time. In addition to being Master of Ships, the king has appointed you Master of Coin."

She would much rather have named Aurane Waters as Master of Ships. Though he was a bastard, his family were legendary sailors. Mace Tyrell is an oaf.

Besides, he was a young man, only twenty-and-two. A welcome sight amongst all the wrinkled, balding and greybeards that currently sat the council.

He had been captured at the Battle Of The Blackwater, but quickly swore obeisance to Joffrey. After which, she had kicked Lancel from her bed and replaced him with the young bastard.

But, the Small Council was already resistant to her sitting among them as a voice for their young King.

No doubt, they would strike down installing a bastard of House Velaryon to an important title such as Master of Ships.

"Oh, Your Grace."

"He called your experience and wisdom in financial matters unparalleled. He said he would be honored to have you represent the crown's interests in the same."

"The honor is all mine, Your Grace."

"Your Grace, in the past on several occasions, a Grand Maester has served as the King's Hand." Maestar Pycelle inserted.

"The King has named Qyburn the new Master of Whisperers."

"Your Grace, him? This man? This embarrassment to the Citadel? Your Grace, what qualifications can he possibly have for this post?"

"The qualification of loyalty, Grand Maester. That's far more than the eunuch ever had. Far more than many ever have."

"I must say I cannot see-" Maestar Pycelle began.

"Uncle Kevan, in light of your position as commander of the Lannister armies, it would please the king if you would serve as his Master of War. No man living better deserves the title." Cersei cut him off.

"That is kind of you to say. I would like to hear it from the king himself." Kevan responded.

"The king is very busy at this moment."

"He should be here, learning what it means to rule. His sister is here more often and she is only a cupbearer."

This caused Aelinor to roll her eyes. No wonder she was not overly fond of Lannister relatives. Their pride was on a level of its own.

"He is learning. On this occasion, in his capacity as ruler, he's asked me to speak on his behalf."

"I returned to the capital to pay my respects to my brother. And to you. And to serve the king. I did not return to the capital to serve as your puppet. To watch you stack the small council with sycophants." He looked to Qyburn. "Sending your own brother away so he wouldn't be-"

"My brother has left the capital to lead a sensitive diplomatic mission."

"What mission?"

"That is not your concern as Master of War."