A Game of Thrones (A Song of Ice and Fire, #1)

by George R.R. Martin

Once you choose a new Warden of the East—” The king groaned. “For the last time, I will not name the Arryn boy Warden. I know the boy is your nephew, but with Targaryens climbing in bed with Dothraki, I would be mad to rest one quarter of the realm on the shoulders of a sickly child.” Ned was ready for that. “Yet we still must have a Warden of the East. If Robert Arryn will not do, name one of your brothers. Stannis proved himself at the siege of Storm’s End, surely.” He let the name hang there for a moment. The king frowned and said nothing. He looked uncomfortable. “That is,” Ned finished quietly, watching, “unless you have already promised the honor to another.” For a moment Robert had the grace to look startled. Just as quickly, the look became annoyance. “What if I have?” “It’s Jaime Lannister, is it not?” Robert kicked his horse back into motion and started down the ridge toward the barrows. Ned kept pace with him. The king rode on, eyes straight ahead. “Yes,” he said at last. A single hard word to end the matter.