Game of Thrones: Bastard? I’m the Damn Heir!

Just then, as Kossi's words finished and Kal hadn't even had time to respond, a few sharp shouts suddenly rang out from the crowd's edge.

A man stepped forward—without a helmet, golden shoulder-length hair neatly swept back, strikingly handsome and elegant—surrounded by the king's guards as he walked toward Kal, who was likewise encircled by the crowd.

"It's the Kingslayer…"

Upon seeing the newcomer, Kossi instinctively muttered in a low voice.

But he immediately realized his slip and quickly shut his mouth, hastily stepping aside with reverent eyes fixed on the man.

Though Kossi had spoken quietly—

In the crowd that had fallen instinctively silent with the arrival of Jaime Lannister, clad in the white armor and cloak of the Kingsguard—

That one word, "Kingslayer," rang out loud and clear in Jaime's ears.

He didn't react at all to how others addressed him. He didn't even glance at Kossi—his gaze remained fixed solely on Kal.

Not until he stood straight and tall right before him.

"Kal Stone. The king is fully aware of what happened earlier."

"King Robert wishes to invite you to his feast. He wants to thank you in person."

Kal hadn't expected that Jaime Lannister himself—a knight of the Kingsguard—would come deliver the message.

And as Jaime spoke, his face was expressionless, his tone formal and unwavering, emphasizing the seriousness of the summons.

Only after stating his purpose did Jaime allow a faint smile to surface. His eyes softened slightly as he looked at Kal.

In that moment, he seemed to be in quite a good mood.

At the very least, in that fleeting glance, there was something different in the way he regarded Kal.

No longer was he merely seeing a bastard—his dwarf brother's only friend.

Of course, Kal couldn't possibly refuse the king's invitation.

Especially not when Robert had gone so far as to send a Kingsguard to personally extend the offer, with words that clearly expressed his intent to give thanks face to face.

So, as expected, Kal showed no surprise. He simply nodded politely to Jaime, then rose to his feet.

But he didn't follow Jaime Lannister right away.

Instead, he turned around and pointed to the aurochs—now so lavishly adorned by Kossi and the others it looked almost like a bride.

Then Kal spoke, "Honorable Ser Jaime Lannister, I have a gift I wish to present to our king. A token of respect from myself and my companions."

"However, as we are humble folk unfamiliar with courtly manners, I only hope His Grace will not find it inappropriate."

Kal was perfectly composed, his tone polite, and his words full of courtesy.

That kind of presence didn't feel like a rough mercenary at all—if anything, it resembled a nobleman.

That thought surfaced instinctively in the Kingslayer's mind.

Upon hearing Kal's request, Jaime Lannister turned his eyes toward the aurochs, already cleaned and prepared with great care.

And when he saw how meticulously it had been handled, the smile on his face grew even warmer.

"I believe King Robert will only feel honored by your offering."

"For it is a symbol of a brave and mighty warrior's strength. May the Seven bless you."

"This is a fine gift. I'm sure the king will be pleased with it."

Jaime didn't reject Kal's idea. In fact, he praised it. So naturally, he had no reason to refuse.

Then, without delay, Jaime Lannister of the Kingsguard took the lead, with Kal Stone following closely behind.

And behind Kal came Kossi and seven or eight others, hoisting the aurochs together.

Among the group, only Jaime Lannister, the guards he'd brought, and Kal himself maintained calm and composed expressions.

As for Kossi and his crew—they looked like they were about to grow tails and wag them proudly into the sky.

The group, under the watchful eyes of more than a hundred spectators, carried the gift Kal had prepared for the king and made their way toward the entrance of the Crossroads Inn.

That was where the king would be waiting for Kal.

The Crossroads Inn wasn't large, so naturally the walk wasn't far.

Jaime Lannister's personal invitation as Kingsguard, and Kal's polite formality before presenting a gift—these were simply the motions of ceremony.

Though as far as Robert was concerned, he detested all of that pomp.

So it was just as Kal neared the front entrance of the inn that he saw a man standing there—towering at 1.96 meters tall, with a thick black beard covering his broad, rugged face.

He stood there like a wall, completely blocking the doorway of the Crossroads Inn.

The man was massive, barrel-chested, with a belly like a bulwark—and at that moment, he stood at the threshold, gazing intently at Kal as he approached.

"Kal Stone?!"

This man—Robert Baratheon I, King of the Seven Kingdoms—was as blunt and boisterous as ever, nothing like what one would expect from royalty. He didn't give a damn about etiquette.

Right after calling out Kal's name, he began striding toward him with great enthusiasm.

That burly, oversized figure of his practically stirred up a windstorm as he moved.

Seeing this, the entire group had no choice but to quickly halt in place.

Jaime Lannister immediately bowed to his king in greeting.

But Robert Baratheon completely ignored him, not even bothering to hear a single word he said. He marched straight toward Kal, not sparing even a glance at his Kingsguard.

Even though Jaime had been trying to report to him.

Watching their interaction, Kal lowered his gaze slightly as Robert approached, lost in thought.

He'd noticed something odd—there wasn't much expression on Robert's face. In fact, he looked rather serious.

That left Kal uncertain about what was going through Robert's mind.

But clearly, he was overthinking it.

Because once Robert reached him, he didn't do anything extravagant.

He simply stopped in front of Kal and gave him a good once-over, scanning him up and down.

A flicker of surprise appeared in his eyes.

Staring at the boy in front of him—taller than himself now—Robert suddenly realized it might be the first time he'd truly taken a good look at his grown-up bastard son.

And the longer he looked, the more a certain thought took hold in his mind.

'Seven hells—he really does look like me when I was younger.'

'No doubt about it. He's mine, alright!'

The moment that thought took root, the stern look on Robert's face vanished without warning.

He threw back his head and burst out laughing.

Then, looking genuinely delighted, he raised one of his thick, soft hands—fat and pampered from years of indulgence—and gave Kal's shoulder a hearty slap. Then another. And another.

Kal, who had been trying to think of a way to tactfully probe him, was completely thrown off by the sudden outburst of laughter—and the overly familiar affection that followed.

The words he'd prepared in his mind were completely knocked out of his head by those meaty slaps.

After all, his usual interactions with Robert had always been strictly formal—never stepping over the line.

He had always acted as though he knew nothing about certain matters, treating himself as nothing more than a lucky hedge knight in the king's employ.

In truth, though, Kal felt there was a strange, unspoken distance between them—a kind of unfamiliar estrangement he couldn't quite name.

Because in his memories, back when Robert wasn't yet so fat, the man had doted on him, often cradling him in his arms and playing with him affectionately.

But perhaps, for the Robert of today, those trivial moments had long since been forgotten.

Or rather, he had probably never cared about any of it at all.

After all, he didn't even know how many bastards he had fathered.

And Robert had no idea what Kal was thinking as he stood there in front of him.

He looked at the young man—already resembling him by a good seventy or eighty percent—and couldn't help but be drawn into old memories.

In truth, Robert still had a fairly clear impression of Kal Stone, the first child he'd ever held in his arms and spent any real time with.

He had once even seriously considered bringing Kal from the Eyrie to raise him in the Red Keep.

Though in the end, it hadn't worked out.

And when he learned that this boy had come to King's Landing alone, trying to make a living on his own, Robert had started paying closer attention to this first child of his—especially after Jon Arryn told him.

He knew what Kal had been through in King's Landing over the past half-year. He'd even heard tales of Kal's adventures across the Narrow Sea among the Free Cities.

He'd even heard about the legend Kal had left behind in that brothel he frequented.

Robert had witnessed one of Kal's performances himself—and nearly laughed his teeth loose from how hilarious it was.

To be honest, he'd even complained more than once to his foster father—who also happened to be his Hand of the King—about how envious he was of Kal's kind of life.

A life free and wild, instead of being stuffed onto that cursed iron chair like a pig, a throne he hated with a passion—cold, hard, and painful on the arse.

And Jon Arryn would always try to console him, wearing that headache-plagued look of his.

But now… that man who used to comfort him was gone.

Staring at Kal's familiar face, Robert couldn't help but think of himself—and of the foster father he had so dearly loved.

So after a few hearty laughs, he let out a long sigh, a trace of sorrow clouding his features.

Perhaps it was because of Jon Arryn's passing that he had recently felt the urge to grow closer to this particular bastard of his. After all, Kal had shared quite a deep bond with Jon as well.

Almost like a grandson to him.

But lately, Cersei had been acting like she was poisoned—constantly stirring up trouble, constantly using Kal Stone as an excuse to pick fights.

With everything that had happened recently, Robert was already on the verge of losing his mind.

The anger swelling inside him was like an overfilled bladder—one more drop, and it would explode.

But after inviting Kal under such a pretext and finally seeing him in person, all of that frustration evaporated in an instant.

That was why Robert couldn't help but burst into laughter the moment he laid eyes on Kal.

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