The news trickles down from high to low: the king is safe. Under the constant care of maesters and septons since his collapse following thirty days of fasting, the worst is over and the Grand Maester believes he will recover… in time. Never robust, the king’s fast left him on the precipice of death and his painfully-thin form is now almost cadaverous. He is too weak to even speak for more than brief periods, and when he has the strength he prefers to pray and consult with septons. But Prince Viserys has spoken with him, and at the king’s behest it will be the Hand who will hold court and sit the Iron Throne and consult with the small council until the king is fit enough to resume his duties. How long shall that be? None can rightly say, though some maesters guess a month or two at most if the king adheres to their care, and others more soberly suggest half a year or more might pass before the king recovers his old strength.
In the wake of the glad news that the king had recovered enough to be considered safe, word of a tourney arranged by the tourney societies has spread… and with it, other rumors: that the Hand has decided that the seventh place in the Kingsguard must at last be filled, rather than awaiting the gods to indicate whom Baelor should have chosen. How these rumors started, none can say, but there are whispers at the court already about which knight might be selected, and some speculate that some champion in the lists in the upcoming tourneys may be given the white cloak.