Red Keep: Tower of the Hand
Not a tenth as spacious as the King’s Throne Room, nor half as imposing as the Small Council Chamber, the Tower of the King’s Hand is nevertheless possessed of its own unique magnificence. Luxurious without ostentation, intimate yet formal, the chambers of the Hand strike a perfect balance between authority and beauty, conducive to counsel and policy. Upon floors of polished marble are strewn Myrish rugs, embroidered in fantastic patterns with birds, beasts and plants of exotic kind. At the southern end of the tower is a round golden window like the sun, and a watchful eye upon the rest of King’s Landing. Beneath it is the high seat of the King’s Hand; a deceptively simple chair of polished golden wood and black leather.
Adorning the walls, white-pillared against the red stone masonry, are wall hangings depicting scenes of hunting and battle, and famous events of history. On the northern wall, a serpentine staircase spirals upward to the Hand’s private residence chambers. Before the high seat are two smaller chairs, and upon a low table between them are quill, inkwell and parchment. An extensive bookcase contains numerous tomes and scrolls, and the personal mementos of the King’s Hand. Northward a pair of oak doors lead to a wide hall, where petitioners may wait for an audience. The door to the tower, heavy and reinforced with steel and brass fittings, bears the sigil of the Hand.
Entry into the Hand’s solar is delayed for a few minutes by an apologetic steward. When the door finally opens, it’s to disgorge several knights and lords who have been in the city since returning from Dorne. The prince’s voice can be heard, calling, “Usher Lord Arryn in,” and the steward obliges.
The prince is seated behind a great desk, finishing sealing some missive. “Good day to you, Lord Jonothor,” he says as he hands the note to a servant and with an impatient gesture waves him off to delivering it. “I am sorry that this must be a hurried meeting. Matters in the Marches… you’ve heard, I suppose?”
“I had heard something of the kind, my Lord Hand,” Jonothor says as he enters and bows; stiff but correct. “I have little doubt that such matters will be put to rights; great captains are still in the field or at sea, ready at hand, and my galleys may be summoned once more if the need becomes great.”
Arryn pauses, before continuing. “It seems a trivial matter to visit upon you, given the latest news, so I will try not to burden your time overmuch. Are you acquainted with my kinswoman, some they call the Jewel: Jyana Arryn?”
“It is good of you to say so,” the prince says agreeably, though with a hand that dismisses the idea as anything needing immediate implementation. “As to this kinswoman ... Jyana? Yes,she has been pointed out to me,” Viserys remarks, thick brows briefly furrowed in thought. “Brave Ser Josten’s granddaughter, if I am not mistaken. She is well?”
“That is the very person of whom I speak - Ser Josten’s grand-daughter - and she is well,” Jonothor affirms. “Truly a Jewel of the Eyrie; she is growing to be a very comely woman.”
The Arryn lord looks up. “It came to my mind that following the recent events involving Princess Daena and one of her ladies-in-waiting, the Princess might benefit from Jyana’s companionship - the two are almost of an age. Jyana has had an excellent upbringing and education, being schooled from an early age by our learned Maester Arett, and she has a gentle and kind nature. I am sure that the Princess and her will become fast friends, just as Jyana is already friends with Carmella Dondarrion, another of the Princess’ companions.”
Viserys’s expression betrays no surprise—indeed, it betrays very little—when Lord Jonothor comes to the point. There’s a brief silence, as the Hand seems to consider a reply. “I am sure she is all you say, and more, my lord. Yet ... Daena cannot have too many women about her, and I did say to Lady Reyna that she might return to her place among those women if…” He stops, considers, and then shrugs. “No, it does not seem likely to me. Where is the young lady now? She should be brought into Daena’s company today.”
“Libraries? Well, it must be said that Princess Daena could take more opportunities to practice her letters than she has,” Viserys remarks, a thin and rueful smile touching his lips. “Lady Jyana sounds like a good companion for her. So be it. I will have a note sent to the princess’s septa, making her aware of the new companion that Daena shall have.”
A brief pause, and then he adds, “I only hope she does not object to riding overmuch. Daena is more a centaur than a lady.” A flash of teeth as he very nearly grins, and then he sobers and asks, “Is there anything else, Lord Arryn?”
“Jyana can ride well, for the Vale is a picturesque place to ride.” The faintest of smiles skates across Jonothor’s face at Viserys’ remark before the dour and correct visage resumes. “Jyana will be overjoyed at the news, and I thank you for your consideration of the matter.”
At the last: “Nay, my Lord Hand; I would not place more burdens upon you when the news from Dorne is not all good. I would return to the Vale to see my newborn son, but I feel ill at ease doing so whilst battles are still being fought down south.”
“So I will wait; and may the Seven deliver us a raven that bears better news. I thank you for the audience, Lord Hand.”
With that, Viserys nods his head and says, “Aye, better news will always be welcome. Perhaps soon we’ll learn that Ser Alyn has put an end to his Lord Vaith.” His eyes shift to another scroll on the desk, and then flick away and back to the Lord of the Vale. “Thank you for your visit, Lord Jonothor. Good day to you.” And with that, a steward comes forward to lead the way out.