When Varys openly admitted that he was the Master of Whisperers, Karl stopped a few paces behind him.
"Then, Lord Varys," Karl said calmly, his voice light but unreadable, "as a minister of the Crown, I would like to ask why you are here—dressed like this."
He paused deliberately.
"And why did you stop me?"
His tone was leisurely, almost casual, but there was something beneath it that was difficult to discern.
Because Karl Stone stood behind him, Varys could not see the expression on the face of the newly appointed Warden of the East. That alone made the Spider uneasy.
Still, Varys did not pretend ignorance. He understood the hidden edge in Karl's words.
Bowing slightly, he answered in his usual smooth, faintly fawning tone.
"Ser Karl, you think too highly of me. I am merely a eunuch… a creature discarded by fate. But it is precisely because I grew up with such an identity that I was forced to learn certain skills—skills I once thought I had long forgotten."
He let out a soft chuckle, though there was weight behind it.
Then, drawing a steady breath, he continued without turning around.
"Kevan Lannister launched his surprise attack on King's Landing just before dawn. At that hour, nearly the entire city—save for those frequenting brothels—was fast asleep."
A faint note of sarcasm crept into his voice.
"And I am, after all, only a eunuch."
"The Lannister army came by boat down the Blackwater Rush and struck the city swiftly. By the time I awoke and received word, the Red Keep had already been breached."
Varys folded his hands within his ragged sleeves.
"Fortunately, I have served in King's Landing for many years. I happened to know certain secret passages within the Red Keep. Before Kevan Lannister's soldiers could reach me, I escaped through one of them."
He gestured subtly at his filthy robes.
"As you can see, I disguised myself and hid in Flea Bottom. I barely avoided the Lannisters' search."
After finishing his explanation, Varys fell silent.
For a moment, there was no response.
The quiet stretched.
Eventually, Varys cautiously turned his head.
Karl's expression was stern.
"You mean to say," Karl began slowly, "that you only realized King's Landing had fallen after the Red Keep was breached?"
His voice was even.
"I apologize, Lord Varys, but that sounds like dereliction of duty for a Master of Whisperers. Though perhaps only the King has the authority to question you."
He paused.
"Still, I would appreciate an explanation. I bear responsibility to report the situation to His Grace."
Karl's tone was steady, but it carried an unmistakable pressure.
Especially now—after he had just retaken this city from enemy occupation.
Varys quickly lowered his head.
"Your questioning is entirely reasonable, Ser Karl," he said, his voice slightly strained. "You are correct. As Master of Whisperers, I must demonstrate my value."
Karl tilted his head faintly.
"Oh? It seems Lord Varys knows something more."
Varys allowed himself a careful breath.
"Though Flea Bottom is… unpleasant, it is nonetheless an excellent place for gathering information."
He continued.
"During my time in hiding, I discovered something troubling. There was a Lannister mole inside King's Landing."
"It was with their assistance that Kevan Lannister was able to seize the city so swiftly—and take its people hostage."
Karl's face remained expressionless.
But then a thin, cold smile appeared.
"To capture King's Landing so quietly," he said, "the identity of this mole cannot be difficult to guess."
His gaze sharpened.
"It seems the derelict party is not you, Lord Varys."
"The Gold Cloaks betrayed the King, didn't they?"
The certainty in Karl's voice was unmistakable.
Varys paused, his lowered eyes flickering briefly.
Then he quickly seized the moment.
"Not all of the Gold Cloaks are traitors," he said urgently. "But Janos Slynt, Commander of the City Watch, is absolutely implicated."
"Yes, Ser Karl—you are correct."
His tone grew heated.
"Janos Slynt, the butcher's son, betrayed the Iron Throne. He was once captain of the Iron Gate guards, promoted after the former commander, Ser Allar Deem, died."
"I am aware," Karl replied calmly.
Yet there was now a faint smile in his eyes—a detail Varys did not miss.
Encouraged, Varys continued.
"You may not know this, but the Gold Cloaks are no longer what they once were."
"During Slynt's tenure, bribery and the sale of offices became commonplace. Nearly half the officers in the City Watch paid him from their own wages."
"The number of Gold Cloaks nearly tripled under his command."
Karl frowned slightly.
"Jon Arryn was not easily deceived."
A bitter smile crossed Varys's face.
"Indeed, he discovered the corruption. He found two men willing to testify against Slynt."
"They were murdered shortly thereafter."
Karl's eyes darkened.
"Jon Arryn reported the matter to the King," Varys continued.
Karl raised a hand.
"I can imagine what followed."
Given that Slynt remained firmly in his post until recently, the outcome was obvious.
Varys smiled awkwardly.
"If I recall correctly, His Grace said that 'obvious corruption is preferable to hidden corruption—and the next man might be worse.'"
"So Slynt remained in position."
Karl considered this.
"That does sound like Robert. But does it not strike you as strange?"
His gaze sharpened again.
"Robert Baratheon was no fool."
Varys hesitated, then answered carefully.
"Those words were relayed to Jon Arryn by Petyr Baelish, the Master of Coin."
Karl gave a small shrug.
He understood.
But he had no interest in digging further into past corruption.
Instead, his expression shifted—warm, almost friendly.
"Very well, Varys. I appreciate your candor."
"I will inform the King and Lord Eddard Stark of your explanation. I shall clear your name."
He gestured toward the Red Keep, where severed heads still decorated iron spikes.
"I believed your head might be among them. I even mourned you."
His tone lacked sincerity, but Varys chose not to notice.
"It is my honor, Ser Karl," Varys said, bowing deeply.
"Then tell me," Karl continued suddenly, "why did you stop me?"
His voice had lost its warmth.
Varys did not hesitate.
"You appear ready to storm the Red Keep, Ser Karl."
"That is obvious."
"If so," Varys said, smiling again, "I can offer assistance."
He pointed toward a narrow alley.
"I know of a secret passage that leads directly inside."
Karl's brow lifted.
"Let me guess. It was built so the King could visit Chataya's brothel unnoticed?"
A flicker of surprise crossed Varys's face before it vanished.
"The Master of Whisperers must know many things to serve the realm," he replied smoothly.
But Karl's smile disappeared.
"How can I be certain," he asked quietly, "that you are not leading me into a trap?"
The air shifted instantly.
Bronn and Hall reacted first.
Before Varys could respond, Hall's rapier was pressed to his throat, and Bronn kicked the back of his knee.
Varys collapsed forward heavily, pain shooting through his leg. Because of his size, he fell awkwardly, landing almost prostrate before Karl.
The cold steel at his throat brought immediate clarity.
"Mercy, Ser Karl!" he cried. "Please—don't kill me!"
Karl had only intended to test him—but his men had acted decisively.
There was no turning back now.
Drawing his dragonbone-hilted dagger, Karl crouched slowly.
The Valyrian steel blade rested lightly against Varys's cheek.
"I am sorry, Lord Varys," he said softly. "I cannot trust you."
"And I cannot rule out the possibility that you are Tywin Lannister's true mole."
The blade slid gently, shaving faint stubble from Varys's face.
"You have not truly proven your loyalty. Have you?"
Varys felt sweat bead at his temples.
The killing intent in Karl's eyes was unmistakable.
This was the man who had broken a city.
Who had stood against a thousand soldiers.
He would not hesitate.
"Ser Karl!" Varys stammered. "I swear—I am no Lannister agent!"
"I am nothing without the Iron Throne. I survive by information. I would never betray the King—it would destroy me!"
Desperation filled his voice.
And in that moment, Varys understood something deeply unsettling.
Karl Stone was not Robert Baratheon.
He was far more dangerous.
The blade pressed closer.
Karl's voice turned cold as winter.
"I want to believe you, Lord Varys."
He leaned closer.
"But I do not dare believe a living man like you."
The steel hovered at his throat.
And for the first time in many years, the Spider felt genuine fear.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)