GOT: A Transmigrator's Conquest

For a moment, Stannon let himself enjoy the success. After trying for quite a while, the system had finally rewarded him with a new skill. Though it was just a one-star skill, it was a huge addition to his panel. It was a skill which could save his life even when he wouldn't have noticed the danger.

He dismissed the notification and opened the skill description to read more about it.

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[Skill: Poison Resistance ★]

Description: Your body gains basic resistance to weaker poisons, reducing their harmful effects. Poisons that would normally make you sick or kill you are less effective, improving your chances of survival.

Effects: Decreases the damage and duration of poisons by 20%.

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As Stannon read, he realized how useful this skill could be in Westeros once he upgrades it by few more levels. Poison wasn't just a weapon for assassins—it was a tool for anyone looking to eliminate their enemies silently. Stories of nobles falling to poisons like the Tears of Lys or the Strangler were all too common.

'A simple sip of wine can kill a man,' Stannon thought, straightening up. 'This skill might only give me a 20% chance of survival, but it's better than nothing. That 20% could save my life when it matters most.'

He thought about the deadly politics of Westeros, where poison could end anyone's life, no matter how powerful they were. Joffrey Baratheon had died choking at his own wedding feast. Oberyn Martell had fallen to his own overconfidence rather than poison, but others hadn't been so lucky. Even someone like Daenerys Targaryen could be brought down by a single poisoned cup. It wouldn't matter even if she had those dragons with her.

'How many of them could have survived with just this one skill?' Stannon thought about the people who were killed by poisioning.

With that thought, Stannon left the cargo hold. Above deck, the ship sailed steadily through the dark waters of Blackwater Bay, carrying him closer to his future.

He walked forward near the railing at edge of the ship with Jory just behind him, like a protective mother caring for his one year old kid. He once thought that he might get annoyed with Jory constantly tagging him here and there, but now in thai dark sea, he was quite grateful for Jory being with him.

Stannon shivered a bit as the cold wind hit him. But soon, Jory draped a fur coat over his shoulders. "What would I do without you, Jory?" Stannon couldn't help but say.

Jory gave a small smile, his voice calm as he replied, "I will always be by your side, my prince."

Stannon let out a breath and chuckled. "Wow! That sounded so... gay."

Jory raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk on his face. "If being loyal and keeping you alive makes me sound gay, then so be it. But if it helps, my prince, you're not really my type. I prefer women, in case you're wondering."

Stannon chuckled again, shaking his head. "Well, good to know I'm not the only one who likes women," he said with a grin. "Otherwise, this might've been... awkward."

Stannon stood there for a while, enjoying the cold wind, before going back to his room.

..

...

Meanwhile..

Cersei paced back and forth in her chambers, her face full of anger. Jaime sat in a chair nearby, his usual smug smile on his face, which only made her more furious.

"What did you do? Didn't I tell you not to make any move against that boy?" she asked, her voice low but filled with anger.

Jaime just smiled and said nothing.

"Answer me!" Cersei snapped. "Do you know why Robert told me about Stannon going to Winterfell tonight? Do you think it's because he trusts me? You're a fool if you believe that."

Jaime's smile remained untouched as he continued to look at Cersei.

She let out a bitter laugh, her voice filled to brim with sarcasm. "He told me because if anything happens to Stannon, I'll be the first person he blames. And after me, he'll come for you. Robert is already looking for a reason to tighten his grip on me, on us. If Stannon doesn't return alive, he won't just blame me—he'll destroy both of us."

Jaime finally moved, his tone calm and deliberate. "What good are his suspicions if the boy is already dead?"

Cersei glared at him, disbelief flashing in her eyes. "Do you really think Robert sent only ten guards to keep him safe? That boy is his pride, his way of defying me. If Robert sent him away, he has a plan, measures we don't know about."

Jaime stood up from the chair and walked toward her with an easy, confident stride. "You're overthinking it," he said lightly. "Do you really think I'd be so foolish as to kill Stannon on the ship, surrounded by Robert's men? You underestimate me, sister."

Cersei tried to step away from him, but Jaime hugged her gently, holding her in place. He leaned close to her ear and whispered, "What if Stannon dies in Winterfell? At the hands of someone Eddard Stark trusts?"

Cersei froze, her eyes narrowing as she stared at him. She turned her head slightly, her expression filled with suspicion. "What are you saying?" she asked.

Jaime's smile grew colder. "Think about it. The boy dies far from King's Landing. He's murdered by the very trusted attendant that had been by his side since he was born—a Northerner chosen by Stark himself. Who would suspect us?"

Cersei's mind raced as she considered Jaime's words. "If Robert finds out—"

Jaime interrupted her with a laugh. "If Robert finds out? If? The question isn't whether he finds out—it's how. His paranoia will do the rest. He'll blame Eddard Stark. The North and the Crown will be at war before we even have to lift a finger. And Stannon? He'll just be a tragic loss, nothing more."

Jaime let her go and stepped back, his smug grin firmly in place. Cersei turned away, sitting down on the edge of her bed, her hands folded tightly. She hated how Jaime's confidence could sway her, even when she didn't want to agree with him.

Cersei looked up at him, her anger subsiding but still wary. "And you're sure it will work?"

Jaime shrugged. "Nothing is certain, but I know one thing—men like Eddard Stark don't know how to play this game. He'll make a mistake, and when he does, we'll take advantage."

Cersei's questioned. "And what about the animals?"

Jaime blinked, caught off guard. "What about them?"

"The animals," Cersei repeated, stepping closer. "The boy's asked for more animals, birds, and insects than I've ever seen—far more than anyone would need for some ridiculous petting zoo. Did you find out why?"

Jaime shrugged. "I saw him once or twice. He didn't do anything except touch them with his bare hands, then leave. Maybe it's some strange hobby. Who knows?"

Cersei's eyes narrowed. "That boy…" she murmured, almost to herself, "his behavior is different. He's doing things he's never done before. So much he never cared for before."

Jaime let out a soft laugh, stepping closer, picking her up from the bed.

"As I said earlier, you overthink," he murmured, brushing his lips against hers.

Cersei let the kiss linger for a moment before pulling away abruptly.

Cersei was still not convinced, her anger subsiding but still wary. "Tell me, Jaime, who is behind this?" she asked, her voice laced with doubt. "I don't think you could come up with such an elaborate scheme on your own."

Jaime looked at her in amusement and then sighed. "You are right, as always, Cersei. The person responsible for this... well, it's none other than our father."

Cersei's eyes widened in shock. "Father?" she whispered.

Jaime nodded. "Oh, yes. He's the one who set everything in motion. Father's got plans within plans, and according to him, once we move against the boy, everything will fall into place."

Cersei turned her face away, letting out a slow breath. She was a bit relieved after getting to know that her father is behind this. She very well knew he wouldn't do anything to tarnish the name of the family.

"What are you doing?" she muttered suddenly as Jaime pushed her back onto the bed.

Jaime smirked, his hands sliding around her waist. "Don't worry, sister. The fat pig is off hunting. We won't be disturbed."

Cersei rolled her eyes but didn't resist as he leaned down to kiss her. Despite her lingering anger, she let herself relax for a moment.

Meanwhile, far away from King's Landing, a ship continued its steady journey toward Winterfell. Onboard, Stannon was unaware of the plans and schemes that could decide his fate.

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