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

Kal's surprise lasted only a heartbeat.

He quickly composed himself and dropped to one knee, lowering his head in a formal salute.

"I greet you, Your Grace. May the light of the Seven shine upon you always."

But just as Kal bent down to perform the full gesture, Robert—still sizing him up—reached out and grabbed him before he could finish.

"Seven hells, I hate all that pomp and ceremony," Robert grumbled, his voice laced with profanity. "And I don't believe in those bloody Seven, anyway... it's disgusting!"

"Seven hells!"

He nearly let loose a full-blown curse against the Faith of the Seven, but managed to catch himself just in time, clamping his mouth shut.

Then, smoothly shifting topics, he flashed a grin and looked Kal over again.

"And you, boy—good, damn good!"

"Joffrey's with the maesters right now, getting checked over. Far as I can tell, the little bastard's just shaken up—nothing serious."

"The queen's looking after him, so I'm the only one here to thank you!"

As he spoke, the smile on Robert's face grew more genuine, and he clapped Kal on the shoulder several more times with heavy hands.

Then, without waiting for a reply, he grabbed Kal by the arm, turned on his heel, and headed straight for the inn's main hall.

"Come on—have a few drinks with me!"

"I brought some damn fine wine this time!"

Robert was as familiar and forward as ever. From the moment he saw Kal, he had seized control of the conversation, never giving him a chance to act too formal or distant.

There wasn't a trace of awkwardness in him. After exchanging only a few words, he pulled Kal along like they'd known each other for years and were simply picking up where they left off.

Realizing that Robert had deliberately stopped him from kneeling, Kal had no reason to resist, and was perfectly content to go along.

Still, he wasn't sure how to respond to everything Robert had just said.

So, without thinking, Kal simply followed behind him as they walked into the tavern together.

At the moment, the inn was mostly empty. Aside from a few guards stationed at the corners and some attendants standing by to serve the king, only a single long table stood at the center of the room.

The moment Kal entered, his eyes fell on that long table.

And that table, at some unknown time, had already been heaped haphazardly with all sorts of food.

There were various roasted meats, meat pies, and a chaotic spread of dishes.

Hot, steaming bread filled an entire round basket woven from vine.

And scattered among them were colorful, fresh-looking fruits that served as a decorative touch.

So, faced with this banquet, Kal had barely stepped into the hall when he was hit full-on by an overwhelming wave of aroma that nearly made him stumble.

As his nose filled with the intoxicating mix of scents, he suddenly remembered the gift he had brought for the king.

After all, that thing was worth a hundred gold dragons now.

And Kal had nearly forgotten about it.

Realizing this, he quickly pulled his arm free from Robert's grip, gave a slight bow, and hurriedly spoke up.

"Your Grace!"

"Please forgive my interruption. Earlier today, when I went to the banks of the Trident, hoping to pay my respects to the site of your glorious deeds, by the grace of the Seven, I was lucky enough to encounter a herd of wild aurochs passing by!"

"They had come to drink from the river, and I seized the opportunity to hunt down the strongest aurochs among them!"

"I brought it back with me, and my companions have already prepared it properly."

At this point, Kal looked up at Robert with sincere admiration in his eyes.

"So I would like to offer this aurochs to Your Grace, as a humble token of my respect for your unmatched valor!"

That bit of flattery from Kal hit the mark perfectly. Robert, who had been wondering what Kal was getting at, found his smile growing noticeably warmer as he listened.

He didn't care much about an aurochs—or any other kind of game, for that matter.

As a king, he lacked for nothing.

But once Kal tied it to the legendary moment when he had shattered not just Prince Rhaegar Targaryen with a single hammer blow, but along with him the dynasty that had ruled Westeros for centuries… and sent that infamous ruby flying—

Robert's mood instantly swelled with delight.

There weren't many things he truly cared about in life: bedding women, savoring wine, and smashing things with his hammer—those three alone accounted for about seventy percent of his happiness.

As for the remaining thirty percent?

That was all in the memory of crushing Rhaegar Targaryen with his own hands.

The throne he gained afterward? Perhaps he had cared about it once.

Or maybe he'd always found being king more of a burden than a joy.

Either way, Kal's flattery hit the sweet spot—pleasing Robert immensely and landing with flawless timing.

Especially when he thought about how this admiration came from a young man—a mere boy—toward a strong and powerful man, it only made Robert all the more delighted.

What's more, the flattery came from his own child.

"Good! Hahahahaha!"

"Kal Stone, I've heard the whole story!"

"Perhaps it was precisely your so-called 'luck' that let that overconfident little fool Joffrey escape with his life!"

Robert roared with laughter, full of cheer as he praised Kal—openly and without the slightest hesitation insulting his own son in front of an "outsider" like Kal.

Even though that foolish son happened to be the heir to the Iron Throne, the future king of the Seven Kingdoms.

It was as if Robert didn't care one bit about Joffrey's dignity.

And once he had finished commending Kal, Robert immediately turned and shouted toward Jaime Lannister, who had followed them into the hall and instinctively stationed himself at the door like a guard.

Without the slightest courtesy, Robert barked: "Kingslayer! Go tell the maester in charge of the ravens to send a letter to my Master of Coin. I want him to release ten thousand gold dragons from the royal treasury as a reward for our 'brave warrior'!"

"Go now—and move those legs of yours faster! Are they numb from sheer boredom?!"

Robert's tone was blunt and commanding, giving orders to Jaime Lannister, heir of Casterly Rock, as if he were a mere servant.

Jaime looked over at Kal, gave a curt nod in acknowledgment, and left without a word.

As Kal watched the white cloak flutter and disappear from sight, he turned back to Robert with a slightly dazed look in his eyes.

He hadn't expected Robert to be so generous—awarding him ten thousand gold dragons on the spot.

That was a hundred times the amount he had joked about offering as a bounty for the aurochs.

And clearly, this reward had nothing to do with Joffrey's recent incident.

It was simply a massive sum handed over because Robert was in a good mood.

How could Kal not be shocked?

But Robert, noticing the confused expression on Kal's face, didn't look entirely satisfied.

He furrowed his brow slightly, then looked at Kal and explained: "Apologies for not giving you the gold dragons immediately—I don't exactly travel with that much coin on hand."

"After all, you've seen how massive the queen's wheelhouse is—it's enough to give me a headache just looking at it!"

"Damn it, if that rickety thing breaks an axle again, I swear I'll make that woman ride on horseback!"

Robert was still explaining to Kal why he couldn't hand over the gold dragons right away.

And truthfully, there was no reason for him to be traveling with that much gold in the first place.

But as he continued speaking, he couldn't help but slip into another round of complaints about Cersei.

From Kal's point of view, it wasn't so much about any specific grievance—it just seemed like Robert instinctively couldn't stand the Lannisters. Mention the name, and he'd start cursing.

Of course, Kal wasn't about to pick up that thread of conversation. He simply bowed his head slightly in silent respect.

And thinking about the long journey still ahead, Robert let out another sigh of resignation.

Then, with a huff, he changed the subject.

"You said earlier your companions handled the aurochs?"

"Then give each of them fifty gold dragons. That much, I am carrying on me!"

At that, Robert finally relaxed his brow, clearly satisfied with how he'd used this moment to help Kal win favor with his men.

And Kal could only offer his thanks.

"I thank Your Grace on behalf of those bastards of mine who only know how to fight and chase women!"

"And I thank you even more for recognizing Kal's worth!"

Faced with such a freehanded benefactor, Kal didn't hesitate this time. His bow was quick and clean—downright practiced.

Seeing Kal's gleeful, gold-loving expression, Robert burst into hearty laughter once again, clearly in much better spirits.

"Well then, have the cooks roast the whole beast—turn it into a full spit-roasted aurochs!"

"Once it's ready, I'll share it with everyone! And I'll tell them whose glory they're feasting on!"

"Hmph. I'll give Cersei Lannister this much—at least the woman knows how to travel in comfort. She didn't forget to bring the cooks along!"

Hearing that, Kal's eyes lit up.

After all, he had told Kossi and the others to prepare the aurochs precisely so it could be roasted whole later.

Now he had the money, and soon he'd be eating the meat—what more could a man ask for?

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