who: @garlandhightower where: cedric tyrell’s private audience chamber, within his inner apartments. set shortly after the interaction cedric had with septon androw, regarding who remained responsible for breaking the law against the faith militancy, established by king jaehaerys so many years ago.
time had passed, and yet, the wound remained open. open, and it grew infected and it festered with what felt like everything all at once. the world seemed to continue, the celebrations and the diplomacy continued as the kingdom of the reach picked up the pieces of the shock of what had occurred. the inhabitants of oldtown attempting to get through their days, after being shaken to their very core; for whilst the attack targeted the workers within brothels, it felt as though it was only a demonstration of what could come next. would it be bankers next, for usury? artists, for expression?
the king had recently returned from oldtown itself, setting off some days following the attack. he had spent a week within the bustling city, located within the hightower; garland was busy with his new braavosi betrothed, and cedric took the time to reassure the people of oldtown with his presence. he was seen speaking with the high septon repeatedly, in ways the lord of oldtown was too worked up and angry to speak about; and then the announcement of a crusade of all things. as though no matter how much he held his breath, there would always be something else; it felt as though he would need to learn to walk on currents, for the water would never still.
the discussions with the most devout and the high septon was one in which cedric was entirely masked; apparently appearing as though he were trying to compromise, to meet in the middle to find a way to work with the high septon rather than make it obvious he had an enemy in the king as well as the lord of oldtown. and it was in these discussions was he able to pull forth a name: a name, to be held responsible for the violation of the law rolled out by king jaehaerys, so many years ago. whilst the reach no longer answered to the dragons, it was a law they continued to live by; the faith was to have no militancy.
it was not just this individual. he knew it would have been androw, or perhaps it was not this individual at all. and yet, it was name; someone house hightower could paint as responsible for the actions and provide some solace to the people. grumbling of such violence going unspoken for. “septon stone, was the name given to me. directly from his mouth.” cedric spoke, leaning forward to take a bunch of fresh purple grapes off the vine. he plucked them one by one onto a golden plate, though his ocean hues remained fixed on garland. “do as you wish with it. he will know once it is done, and it is the last time he will speak to me of anything.”
was it worth waiting to see if cedric could get anything more? was their any use in pretending any further? the high septon was no fool either, and as much as cedric tried to use subtle methods of manipulation to try and set up dialogue in which there could be a slip, there was never one. even this name, this septon stone, was a calculated choice. he chose to give it over. it was no slip. “your people need to know some sense of justice has been delivered.”