This meeting wasn't about dividing spoils—because there weren't any spoils worth dividing. After Lynd had taken control of Dragonstone, the Stormlands, and the North, only the Riverlands held any real value.
But the Riverlands were a mess—a swamp of ruin. Rebuilding would require an enormous investment of manpower and resources. Even with the combined efforts of the Westerlands and the Reach, it would be nearly impossible to restore the region to normal in the short term. Under such circumstances, Lord Tywin had little interest in claiming it.
So by the end of the meeting, only one item had been settled: all parties agreed to end hostilities, recognize the legitimacy of Joffrey I's claim to the Iron Throne, and sign a formal peace agreement.
The agreement was signed by six people: Joffrey I of the Iron Throne, Lord Tywin of the Westerlands, Lord Mace of the Reach, Lady Sansa of the North, Lady Shireen of the Stormlands, and Lady Catelyn of the Riverlands. Lynd signed as a witness and was entrusted with safeguarding the document. Should anyone violate the agreement, Lynd—as the witness—would personally intervene to enforce punishment.
Though the Vale did not participate, with the other six kingdoms united in agreement, its absence didn't matter.
When the time came to sign, Lynd clearly noticed a moment of hesitation from both Sansa and Catelyn. They were obviously reluctant to acknowledge Joffrey I's legitimacy, but the current political reality left them no choice.
"There are two more matters," Lynd said, calling out to the room just as Lord Tywin was inviting everyone to the banquet he was hosting. "First, I ask that Lord Tywin return House Stark's ancestral sword, Ice, to Lady Sansa."
Everyone turned to Tywin.
He paused for a moment, then turned to a cabinet behind him and retrieved the great Valyrian steel sword.
Perhaps hoping to humiliate Sansa, he walked directly up to her and handed it over.
What he hadn't anticipated was that during her time at Summerhall, Sansa had undergone combat training with the holy sisters. While she wasn't ready for solo combat, carrying a greatsword of Valyrian steel was no issue for her.
As she took Ice in her arms, a flicker of joy crossed Catelyn's face—followed by a trace of sorrow. Only when Roose Bolton took her hand did she suppress her emotions.
Then Lynd continued, "Second, I hope Lord Tywin will honor his promise and turn over Queen Cersei to me, so I can escort her to the Redemption Sept."
"Lynd, that's too much!" Jaime suddenly stood up, shouting angrily.
Lynd ignored him and kept his eyes on Tywin.
To Jaime, this was an insult—a public humiliation. Rage overwhelmed him, and he completely disregarded the disparity in power and his current condition. He made to lunge at Lynd, but Garlan stepped in to block him.
Jaime struggled to free himself, but couldn't. Frustrated and humiliated, he shouted, "Get out of my way, boy! If I still had my right hand…"
"Enough, Jaime. That's enough," Tywin cut him off sternly, sensing things were getting out of hand. Then he turned to Lynd and said, "I would prefer that Cersei be allowed to attend Joffrey's wedding before she is sent to the Redemption Sept."
"It's not that I'm unwilling to wait," Lynd replied, "but I don't trust Jaime. He's bound to do something reckless for Queen Cersei's sake, and that could get out of hand quickly." He pointed at Jaime. "Let Queen Cersei stay with the holy sisters. She can attend the wedding accompanied by them. After that, she'll be taken to the Redemption Sept. That's my bottom line."
Tywin hesitated.
Then, unexpectedly, Joffrey—who had been silent the entire time, sitting beside Tywin under his grandfather's shadow—suddenly spoke up. "I think Prince Lynd's suggestion is a good one. It wouldn't hurt for Mother to start getting used to life with the sisters."
The moment those words left his mouth, everyone in the room turned to look at Joffrey. No one had expected him to stab Cersei in the back like that. But Joffrey, in contrast, was enjoying the attention—smiling smugly, convinced he had made a clever decision.
To Joffrey, Cersei was nothing more than a rival for control. As long as she remained, he would always be her son, not a true king. Only by breaking free from her grip could he become Joffrey I, His Grace in truth.
More importantly, he believed that Cersei was a tool Tywin used to manipulate him. Once she was gone, Tywin's control would weaken, and he would finally be able to enjoy the full power of kingship.
So, of everyone present, the one most eager to see Cersei sent to the Redemption Sept... was Joffrey himself.
Everyone in the room knew that Tywin currently held the reins of power in the Red Keep—but Joffrey I was still the one who sat the Iron Throne. And when it came to critical moments like this, his word carried a weight no one could ignore.
"I agree—Queen Cersei should be placed under Prince Lynd's supervision," Sansa said, her tone cold. There was no doubt she harbored deep hatred toward House Lannister, and if she had the chance to see one of them suffer—and make the rest uneasy—she was not going to let it slip away.
At the same time, Catelyn, speaking on behalf of Riverrun, also voiced her support for Tywin keeping his promise. Shireen, though unclear on the details, understood enough to know this was a moment to speak in agreement. As for Oberyn, the Red Viper, seeing so many people aligned against the Lannisters, chose not to get involved. Instead, he casually sipped Tywin's fine wine and watched the unfolding drama with amusement.
"Bring Cersei here," Tywin ordered Addam Marbrand and Daven Lannister.
The two men exchanged a glance with Jaime before rising and leaving the room.
"Father…" Jaime broke free from Garlan's half-hearted restraint and stepped up to Tywin, fury in his voice. "You're really going to send Cersei to live like a holy sister?"
"Try using your head when you speak," Tywin snapped back, dodging a direct answer. "After the wedding, you'll return to Casterly Rock."
Hearing that, Lynd suddenly noticed that Jaime was no longer wearing the white cloak of the Kingsguard. It caught him off guard, and he couldn't help but wonder what Tywin had said to make him give it up.
Faced with Tywin's rebuke, Jaime lowered his head, silently stepping aside with a look of frustration but said nothing more.
Before long, Cersei arrived, escorted by Daven and Addam, dressed in lavish attire. The moment she entered and saw the gathered faces, it was clear she understood what was about to happen—her expression darkened instantly.
"From this point on, Cersei is in your care, Prince Lynd," Tywin said.
"I will never agree to this—" Cersei snapped, shouting at both Tywin and Lynd in defiance.
But before she could say another word, her mouth was silenced by an invisible force, her body bound and lifted into the air by something unseen.
Using telekinesis, Lynd restrained her without effort. Then he turned to the others and said, "I'll take my leave. Until His Grace Joffrey and Lady Elly's wedding, I'll remain at my residence in the city. If anyone needs me, feel free to come by."
With that, he turned and walked out of the council chamber. Cersei floated behind him, still suspended mid-air, and Shireen and Sansa quickly followed.
...
It took a long while after Lynd's departure for the room to return to normal.
"Was that magic just now?" Lord Mace asked, visibly shaken.
"I don't think so," said Oberyn, the Red Viper, frowning slightly. "I've seen dark sorcerers, shadowbinders, and pyromancers at work—what Lynd just used felt very different."
While the Red Viper explained, Tywin glanced at them both, a trace of doubt flickering across his face.
...
After leaving the Red Keep, Lynd handed Cersei over to the holy sisters waiting outside. The earlier display had left her thoroughly shaken. Even after the restraints were lifted, she remained dazed, offering no resistance as the sisters gently pushed her into the carriage.
The group returned to Lynd's residence in King's Landing. Though it stood near the Iron Gate and had been within the zone of active combat during the siege, both the defenders and attackers had deliberately avoided it, making it one of the few buildings left untouched.
Because the residence was seen as a sacred or forbidden space by both sides, most of the nearby residents had taken refuge there during the conflict. With Lynd's approval, those managing the estate had allowed them in, providing shelter until the war came to an end.
So when Lynd's carriage returned and the crest of House Tarran was spotted, many of those who had taken shelter stepped to the roadside and bowed in greeting—grateful survivors of the city's chaos.
By the time Lynd arrived back at the estate, night had already fallen. He had no intention of speaking to Cersei. Instead, he instructed the accompanying holy sisters to take her away and treat her in accordance with their training protocols.
"Can I go see her?" Sansa asked, watching Cersei being led away by the holy sisters. She couldn't help but turn to Lynd.
Lynd glanced at her with a somewhat curious expression before answering in a calm voice, "You can watch—but don't interfere with the holy sisters' work."
"Thank you, my lord! Thank you." Sansa quickly thanked him, then hurried after them.
Just then, Patchface, who had arrived at the residence earlier, came running out of the house. He danced and sang beside Shireen, chanting a string of strange, chaotic verses.
"Red and purple, choking and screaming, so many faces laughing and screaming at him, I know, I know, a rusty chair can't be sat on, I know!"
To everyone else, Patchface's song sounded like meaningless nonsense. But Lynd understood exactly what he was saying.
Still, what puzzled him was—who wanted to kill Joffrey?
In the books from his past life, Joffrey had been killed in a plot by House Tyrell and Littlefinger. The reasons were straightforward: Littlefinger thrived on chaos, and the Tyrells needed a king they could control.
But things had changed. Littlefinger had already taken Harrenhal, and after both House Lannister and Roose Bolton had occupied it, followed by the Mountain and the Brave Companions ravaging the area, Harrenhal no longer had the strength to resist Littlefinger's grip. The only threat to him now was Roose Bolton. Stirring up more chaos would gain him nothing—and might even cost him Harrenhal, which was already in his hands.
As for House Tyrell, they had even less reason to act. All they had sacrificed was a noblewoman from a cadet branch of the family, and in exchange, they gained a king—one who trusted Garlan Tyrell deeply and planned to support House Tyrell as a counterweight to Lord Tywin's power. It made no sense for them to assassinate Joffrey now.
Just as Lynd was puzzling over who the would-be killer might be, the head steward approached, leading a boy who looked around eleven or twelve.
"My lord, this is Lord Tyrion's attendant," the steward said.
Lynd was momentarily surprised, but quickly realized this boy must be Podrick.
He asked, "Did Tyrion send you to ask me to persuade Lord Tywin to release him?"
"N-no, not at all!" Podrick stammered nervously. "Lord Tyrion recently hired a cook from Myr—someone who can make all kinds of delicious food. He wanted to invite you to dinner."
Lynd chuckled. "A Myrish cook? That's a new one. If I'm not mistaken, Jaime is probably with Tyrion right now, isn't he?"
Podrick didn't reply. He just bowed his head slightly.
"No need for a meal. If I show up, the two of them probably won't be able to eat." Lynd shook his head. "Go tell Tyrion this: if he's willing to come work for me, I'll ask Lord Tywin to release him. If not, then there's no need for us to meet."
With that, he instructed the steward to escort Podrick out.
...
After leaving, Podrick ran straight back to Tyrion's residence.
Just as Lynd had guessed, Jaime Lannister was already there, drinking alone. When he saw Podrick return, he started to ask how it went—but the answer was already written all over Podrick's face, and he said nothing.
"He knows Jaime is with me, doesn't he?" Tyrion said, reading the situation immediately.
Podrick nodded and repeated Lynd's message.
After hearing it, Tyrion patted Jaime on the shoulder and said quietly, "Let it go. Cersei's never getting out of the Redemption Sept."
"Isn't there any other way?" Jaime asked, his voice heavy with sorrow.
"You still don't get it?" Tyrion said, his tone sharp. "Right now, you're the only one in all of King's Landing who wants to get her out. Our father, her own son, even I—we all want her to stay right where she is. Give up, Jaime. No one's going to save her."
Jaime's expression darkened. He stood in silence for a long moment, then downed the wine in his cup in one gulp and left without saying a word—or looking back.
Tyrion watched his brother's retreating figure and couldn't help but feel a pang of concern.