Tyrith had applauded his goodbrother's decision to proceed with morning court, but he'd just had a runner from Selester Tyrell and directly on his heels had been a pale Septa, near to fainting with terror. The Hand of the King's face was dark as he strode through the halls. Whatever mischief had been wrought the previous night, it was dark as Asshai magic.
He entered by the Kings Door, and waited til the case before the king was sent away- in the momentary pause he stepped forward and bowed low. "Your majesty, forgive the intrusion but I bring urgent news for your ears alone," he said quietly. The less the courtiers panicked the easier the search might prove...