The King's herald had arrived!
Ned Stark's face turned grim instantly.
He waved his hand, signaling the captain of the guards outside to wait, then turned and fixed a burning gaze on Lynn.
Arya's face was pale as death. She clutched Lynn's sleeve tightly, as if that could anchor him in the safety of this solar.
"Father, you can't let him go!"
Arya's voice trembled with tears.
"The King... the King will kill him!"
"It is a royal summons, Arya. No one can refuse."
Ned's voice was tired and powerless.
He looked at Lynn, his eyes full of worry.
"Are you ready?"
"Rest assured, my Lord."
Lynn's face remained as calm as ever.
He gently patted the back of Arya's hand, then signaled the Unsullied behind him to hand the wooden box containing Viserys's head to Ned's guard.
"Take this with you," Lynn told the guard.
"Also, go to the dungeon and bring the gift sent by the Night's Watch."
"Gift?"
Ned paused, but quickly understood Lynn's meaning.
Things had spiraled beyond his control.
Ned could only sigh, turn, and stride out of the solar. He needed to change into his formal attire as Hand of the King. He would stand by Lynn in the throne room and do his utmost to help.
In the solar, only Lynn and Arya remained.
A suffocating silence filled the air.
"You..."
Arya opened her mouth to speak, but tears fell first.
She hated her own powerlessness, her own weakness.
In this massive vortex of power, she could only watch helplessly as the person she cared about most walked toward an unknown abyss.
"I'm going with you."
Arya suddenly looked up, her tear-washed grey eyes shining with an unprecedented determination.
"What?" Lynn was stunned.
"I said, I'm going with you!"
"If something happens to you this time... or... or if Father really won't let me marry you, I'll run away with you!"
"We can go to the North, to beyond the Wall, anywhere!"
"I don't want to stay in this hellhole of King's Landing anymore!"
Like a little wolf announcing she was leaving the pack, she used the fiercest tone to say the softest words.
Lynn's heart felt as if it had been struck hard by something.
He looked at the stubborn girl before him.
She was clearly terrified herself, yet she was willing to abandon everything she had for him.
A warm current, mixed with a trace of guilt, surged in his heart.
"Fool."
Lynn reached out, gently wiping away the tear tracks on her face with his thumb.
"I'll be fine."
Looking into her eyes, he said, word by word, "Wait for me to come back. Then I'll take you away from King's Landing to a much more interesting place."
"I promise."
Arya bit her lip, looking into his sincere eyes, and finally nodded vigorously.
---
The path to the Iron Throne room was long and oppressive.
The corridors of the Red Keep were hung with dragon tapestries left from the Targaryen dynasty.
The golden-threaded beasts bared their fangs and claws. In the torchlight, they seemed ready to come alive and devour anyone who passed.
Ned walked beside Lynn, his steps heavy.
"When you see Robert, no matter what he says, do not talk back to him."
Ned lowered his voice, giving his final instructions.
"His temper is erratic now. A single spark could set him off."
"I will, my Lord," Lynn replied.
His gaze, however, inadvertently swept over the Lannister guards standing straight on both sides of the corridor.
Their faces all bore the same indifference and arrogance.
Tywin Lannister.
The old lion dormant in Casterly Rock finally couldn't resist baring his fangs.
When Lynn left, the Gold Cloaks were on duty.
Not long after he left, the Lannisters had muscled their way in.
As expected, Ned was no match for Tywin.
And Lynn knew very well that Robert's mood swings and paranoia weren't just due to alcohol and power.
It was a poison growing quietly within him.
A slow-acting poison concocted by the Faceless Men, enough to destroy a mind.
Just as they turned a corner, two figures blocked their path.
Queen Cersei Lannister and her twin brother, Jaime Lannister.
Cersei wore a gown of golden brocade, her beautiful face carrying a lazy mockery.
Her gaze roamed over Lynn as if assessing a piece of property that belonged to her.
"Look who's back," Cersei said in her distinct tone.
" The hero of the North. The King beyond the Wall."
"What, got tired of playing in Essos and remembered the comforts of King's Landing?"
Jaime stood by her side, hand resting on his gilded white sword, his green eyes full of wariness.
Lynn looked past Jaime, fixing his gaze directly on Cersei's face, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly.
"His Grace should be satisfied with the gift I present. It is enough to prove my loyalty to the King."
"Perhaps the Queen should also prove her loyalty."
"Acting this way makes it hard not to misunderstand your motives."
Jaime was confused, but the smile on Cersei's face froze.
The words struck her most secret vulnerability with precision.
This Lynn before her had not only taken her body but was reminding her in this way that she was still his possession.
Seeing the mockery in Lynn's eyes, she recalled the way he had ravaged her without mercy that day.
A mix of shame, anger, and a strange sensation flooded her heart. Her nails dug into her palms; her vision went dark, and she could barely breathe.
"Let's go."
Lynn walked past her with Ned. Before leaving, he shot Cersei a meaningful glance.
Cersei's face went pale.
She wanted to lash out, but remembering that Princess Myrcella was still in Lynn's hands, her anger was replaced by helplessness.
Looking somewhat awkward, Cersei gave an imperceptible nod.
When the heavy doors slowly pushed open, the cold, oppressive atmosphere of the throne room rushed out.
The hall was full of people.
The heavy hitters of the Small Council were all present.
Petyr "Littlefinger" Baelish, the Master of Coin, wore his signature ambiguous smile, though he was now confined to a wheelchair, likely struggling to ever stand again.
Varys "The Spider," the Master of Whisperers, kept his hands in his sleeves, looking like a fat, harmless herbivore.
The King's brother, Renly Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End, stood in finery with an arrogant expression.
Grand Maester Pycelle looked ancient, as if he might fall asleep at any moment, but the fleeting glint under his eyelids betrayed that he wasn't as incompetent as he appeared.
Everyone's eyes focused on Lynn as he walked into the hall.
But the most striking figure was the man perched high on the Iron Throne.
Robert Baratheon.
He was even fatter than when Lynn had left.
His black velvet doublet, symbolizing royal power, was stretched tight over his massive belly, looking ready to burst.
His face held an unhealthy flush, his eyes were cloudy and full of irritability and impatience.
The smell of wine on his heavy breath could practically be smelled ten meters away.
The once-spirited face had long been corroded by poison, wine, lust, and suspicion.
He wasn't a King; he was more like an irritable boar trapped on a throne.
"You finally deigned to return, my... King Beyond the Wall!"
Robert's voice echoed through the hall like dull thunder.
He practically gritted his teeth saying the words "King Beyond the Wall."
Lynn ignored the undisguised mockery. He dropped to one knee in a standard knight's salute.
"My respects to you, Your Grace."
"Respects?"
Robert let out a coarse sneer.
"You let hundreds of thousands of wildlings into my kingdom and call that respect?"
"You crown yourself King, build an army on my land, and then come talk to me about respect?"
"That's some respect."
"Lynn! Do you think because I personally knighted you, I won't dare cut off your head?"
Robert suddenly stood up from the throne, his massive bulk casting a huge shadow.
Hand resting on the jeweled sword at his waist, his bloodshot eyes stared fixedly at Lynn below.
The atmosphere in the hall solidified instantly.
Amidst the oppression, the fleeting schadenfreude in the depths of others' eyes revealed their attitude toward Lynn.
When Lynn controlled the Gold Cloaks in King's Landing, everyone gave him a wide berth. He had been unparalleled, his pressure suffocating them.
Now that Lynn seemed to be in trouble, everyone was looking forward to seeing him fall.
Ideally, he would be removed completely!
Ned's heart was in his throat.
Just as he was about to step forward to defend Lynn, Lynn shook his head at him.
Lynn looked up, meeting Robert's furious gaze calmly.
"Your Grace, I come to present a gift."
"A gift?"
Robert looked as if he had heard the world's biggest joke.
"What gift?"
Lynn didn't speak. He simply clapped his hands.
Under everyone's gaze, the guard holding the wooden box stepped forward and raised it high.
Lynn stood up and personally removed the black cloth.
When Viserys's head, eyes still wide in death, appeared before the crowd...
The entire hall erupted in uproar.
Robert's breath hitched.
He stared fixedly at the head, at the face he had hated for over a decade.
The rage on his face was gradually replaced by a twisted pleasure.
"Targaryen... Hahaha... The Targaryen bastard!"
Robert burst into manic laughter.
"Well done! Lynn! Well done!"
"You actually did it."
He stepped down from the throne, grabbed the head, and held it high for all to see.
"Do you see! This is the fate of the Targaryens!"
Watching Robert's madness, Ned's heart sank deeper.
He knew one head was far from enough.
Sure enough, Robert's laughter stopped abruptly.
He tossed the head aside like trash.
"Don't think a dead man's head cancels out your crimes!"
Robert's face darkened again.
"You are still the King Beyond the Wall!"
"Your Grace," Lynn spoke again, his voice clearly cutting through Robert's roar.
"The true enemy does not come from the North."
"It has hung over everyone's head for thousands of years."
"What nonsense are you spouting!" Robert shouted impatiently.
"Bring it in!"
Ignoring him, Lynn shouted toward the doors.
"Bring up the other gift!"
Under everyone's confused gaze, two guards carried in an iron cage covered in black cloth.
The cage was set heavily in the center of the hall.
Something inside seemed to be moving restlessly, making low, teeth-grinding scraping sounds.
"Playing tricks!" Robert frowned.
Lynn walked to the cage and yanked off the black cloth!
In that instant, the hall fell into a deathly silence.
Everyone saw what was in the cage.
It was a humanoid creature.
Its body was shriveled, like a dried corpse. Its clothes were tattered, revealing grey-blue skin and stark white bone.
Most terrifying were its eyes.
They were glowing blue!
Filled with a dead silence that did not belong to this world!
A wight!
"What... what is that thing?"
Renly stepped back instinctively, disgust on his face.
Grand Maester Pycelle was so shocked his beard trembled.
"Trickery! This must be some sort of trickery!"
Stimulated by the light and noise, the wight slammed violently against the cage!
BANG——!
The heavy impact made everyone's heart skip a beat.
It reached out a withered hand, nothing but bone and sinew, through the bars, clawing at the nearest Lannister guard!
The guard screamed in terror and swung his sword!
Clang!
The sword struck the wight's arm, severing it cleanly.
But the wight acted as if nothing had happened, its eyes still fixed on the guard.
The severed arm on the floor continued to grope around.
"Ah——!"
The Iron Throne room descended into utter chaos!