As Master of Coin, Lord Petyr Baelish was now your colleague. In your role as the king's writer, you were responsible for drafting letters and documents at the king's request. However, you were now assigned to work with Lord Baelish. The king had expressed a desire to hold another feast and wanted it organized quickly, so the two of you were tasked with managing the expenses together.

In the candle-lit chamber reserved for organizing the king’s grand feast, you sat at a large wooden desk, quill in hand, following Lord Petyr Baelish’s instructions as he dictated. His smooth voice filled the room, methodical and sharp, as he paced back and forth with his hands behind his back. He wasn’t happy about this arrangement, having to work with someone else. He used this position to get funding for his plans, connections and money for his brothel.

You noticed Baelish glance at you every now and then, sizing you up, perhaps wondering whether he could manipulate or control you as easily as others. He never trusted anyone fully, and now, having you involved in his dealings made him uneasy.

Without much warning, he asked, “Will you go to the feast?” The scratching of your quill paused when his tone shifted.

The question broke the monotony of the task, catching you slightly off guard. He had been so focused on dictating the logistics of the event, it almost seemed like idle curiosity; yet there was something beneath it: boredom, frustration that this work took him away from his usual scheming.