His Majesty the King's herald is here!
Ned Stark's expression instantly turned solemn.
He waved his hand, signaling the captain of the Guards outside the door to wait, then turned and stared at Lynn with piercing eyes.
Arya's small face was pale, and she clutched Lynn's sleeve tightly.
As if that would keep Lynn in the safety of this study.
"Father, you can't let him go!"
Arya's voice was tearful.
"The King... His Majesty the King will kill him!"
"This is His Majesty the King's summons, Arya, no one can refuse."
Ned's voice was weary and powerless.
He looked at Lynn, his eyes filled with worry.
"Are you ready?"
"Don't worry, my Lord."
Lynn's face still held that calm expression.
He gently patted Arya's hand, then signaled the Unsullied behind him to hand the wooden box containing Viserys's head to Ned's Guards.
"Take this with you."
Lynn said to the Guards.
"Also, go to the dungeon and bring the gift from the Night's Watch."
"Gift?"
Ned was startled, but he quickly understood Lynn's meaning.
Things had spiraled beyond Ned's control.
Ned could only sigh and turn, striding out of the study.
He had to change into his Hand of the King's fine clothes; he had to go to the Iron Throne hall and stand by Lynn's side, doing his last bit.
In the study, only Lynn and Arya remained.
A suffocating silence hung in the air.
"You..."
Arya opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but tears fell first.
She hated her powerlessness, her weakness.
In this huge vortex of power, she could only watch helplessly as the person she cared about most walked towards an unknown abyss.
"I'll go with you."
Arya suddenly looked up, her tear-washed grey eyes radiating an unprecedented determination.
"What?" Lynn was stunned.
"I said, I'll go with you!"
"If anything happens to you this time... or... or if Father really won't let me marry you, I'll elope with you!"
"We'll go North, beyond the Wall, anywhere!"
"I don't want to stay in this wretched place, King's Landing, anymore!"
She was like a little wolf declaring she was running away from home, speaking the softest words in the fiercest tone.
Lynn's heart felt as if it had been struck hard by something.
He looked at this stubborn little girl in front of him.
She was clearly scared to death herself, yet she was willing to abandon everything she had for him.
A warm current, mixed with a hint of guilt, surged through his heart.
"Fool."
Lynn reached out and gently wiped away her tears with his thumb.
"I'll be fine."
Lynn looked into her eyes and said, word by word.
"When I return, I'll take you away from King's Landing, to a more interesting place."
"I promise."
Arya bit her lip, looked into his sincere eyes, and finally nodded firmly... The road to the Iron Throne hall was long and oppressive.
The corridors of the Red Keep were hung with dragon tapestries from the Targaryen dynasty.
Those giant beasts embroidered with gold thread, baring their fangs and claws, seemed to come alive in the torchlight, ready to tear and devour people at any moment.
Ned walked beside Lynn, his steps heavy.
"When you see Robert later, no matter what he says, do not contradict him."
Ned lowered his voice, giving his final warning.
"His temper is strange now, a single spark can set him off."
"I will, my Lord." Lynn replied.
His gaze, however, inadvertently swept over the Lannister Guards standing rigidly on both sides of the corridor.
Their faces all bore the same coldness and arrogance.
Tywin Lannister.
This old lion, dormant in Casterly Rock, finally couldn't resist showing his fangs.
When he left, the Gold Cloaks were on duty.
Not long after he left, Lannister intervened.
Sure enough, Ned was no match for Tywin.
And Lynn knew very well that the reason Robert had become so moody, suspicious, and distrustful was not just because of the erosion of alcohol and power.
It was the poison quietly growing within him.
A slow-acting poison, concocted by the Faceless Man, enough to destroy the mind.
Just as they turned a corner, two figures blocked their way.
Queen Cersei Lannister, and her twin brother, Jaime Lannister.
Cersei wore a golden brocade gown, her beautiful face bearing a hint of lazy mockery.
Her gaze lingered on Lynn, as if appraising an object belonging to her.
"Look who's back?"
Cersei's voice had her characteristic tone.
"Hero of the North, King-Beyond-the-Wall."
"What, tired of playing in Essos, and now you remember the good things about King's Landing?"
Jaime, hand on his gilded white-scabbard longsword, stood beside Cersei, his green eyes full of vigilance.
Lynn's gaze passed over Jaime and landed directly on Cersei's face, the corners of his mouth curving slightly upward.
"His Majesty the King should be very pleased with the gift I presented; I have sufficiently proven my loyalty to His Majesty the King."
"Perhaps, the Queen should also need to prove her loyalty."
"Your actions make it difficult not to misunderstand your motives."
Jaime was utterly confused, but the smile on Cersei's face froze.
This sentence accurately struck her most secret pain.
This Lynn in front of her not only took her body but was also using this method to remind her that she was still Lynn's possession.
As soon as she saw Lynn's teasing eyes, she thought of how Lynn had galloped freely that day, without any pity.
A surge of shame and a different kind of feeling rushed to her heart; her nails almost dug into her palms, her vision blurred, and she could barely breathe.
"Let's go."
Lynn and Ned walked past her, and before leaving, Lynn gave Cersei a meaningful look.
Cersei's face turned pale.
She wanted to turn hostile, but then she remembered Princess Myrcella was still in Lynn's hands, and the anger in her heart was replaced by helplessness.
Cersei's expression was a bit awkward, and she nodded almost imperceptibly.
As the heavy doors slowly opened, the cold and oppressive atmosphere of the Iron Throne hall rushed out.
The hall was full of people.
All the high-ranking officials of the Small Council were present.
The Master of Coin, "Littlefinger" Petyr Baelish, had his trademark ambiguous smile on his face.
Only, he was in a wheelchair, and it would be difficult for him to stand up for the rest of his life.
The Master of Whisperers, "The Spider" Varys, had his hands tucked into his sleeves, like a plump and harmless herbivore.
His Majesty the King's brother, Lord Renly Baratheon of Storm's End, was dressed in fine clothes, his expression arrogant.
Grand Maester Pycelle, old and decrepit, seemed like he could fall asleep at any moment, but the fleeting glint in his eyes revealed that he was not as incompetent as he appeared.
Everyone's gaze was focused on Lynn, who walked into the hall.
But most striking of all was the man seated high on the Iron Throne.
Robert Baratheon.
He was even fatter than when Lynn had left.
The black velvet coat, symbolizing royal authority, was stretched tightly by his huge belly, as if it could split open at any moment.
His face had an unhealthy flush, his eyes were cloudy, filled with irritability and impatience.
The strong smell of wine from his heavy breathing could be smelled from ten meters away.
That once dashing face had long been corrupted beyond recognition by poison, drink, and suspicion.
He was not a king; he was more like an agitated wild boar trapped on the throne.
"You've finally decided to return, my... King-Beyond-the-Wall!"
Robert's voice, like a dull thunder, echoed through the hall.
He almost bit out the words "King-Beyond-the-Wall."
Lynn ignored the undisguised mockery; he simply knelt on one knee, performing a standard knight's salute.
"Greetings to Your Majesty the King."
"Greetings?"
Robert let out a crude sneer.
"You let hundreds of thousands of wildlings into my kingdom, and you call that greetings?"
"You crown yourself King, build your army on my land, and then come to me and say greetings?"
"That's quite the greeting."
"Lynn! Do you think that just because I personally knighted you, I wouldn't dare to chop off your head?"
Robert suddenly stood up from the throne, his massive body casting a huge shadow.
His hand rested on the hilt of his ornate, jewel-encrusted longsword, his eyes, bloodshot with anger, stared fixedly at Lynn below.
The atmosphere in the hall instantly solidified.
But within this oppression, the fleeting schadenfreude that appeared in the depths of everyone else's eyes revealed their attitude towards Lynn.
When Lynn was in King's Landing, he controlled the Gold Cloaks, and at that time, everyone would give Lynn a wide berth.
It could be said that he was unrivaled in prestige, suffocating them.
Now that they saw Lynn was in trouble, everyone was looking forward to how things would unfold.
It would be best if this opportunity could be used to completely get rid of Lynn!
Ned's heart was in his throat.
He was about to step forward to defend Lynn.
But Lynn shook his head at him.
Lynn looked up, calmly meeting Robert's furious gaze.
"Your Majesty, I have come to present you with a gift."
"A gift?"
Robert sounded as if he had heard the biggest joke in the world.
"What gift?"
Lynn didn't speak, he just clapped his hands.
The Guards holding the wooden box, under everyone's gaze, walked forward step by step, raising the wooden box high.
Lynn stood up and personally pulled back the black cloth.
When Viserys's head, with eyes still open in death, appeared before everyone.
The entire hall erupted in an uproar.
Robert's breathing suddenly caught.
He stared fixedly at the head, that face he had hated for over a decade.
The fury on his face gradually gave way to a twisted pleasure.
"Targaryen... haha... the Targaryen bastard!"
Robert let out a burst of mad laughter.
"Well done! Lynn! Excellent work!"
"You actually did it."
He descended from the throne, grabbed the head, and held it high, displaying it to everyone.
"See! This is the fate of the Targaryen!"
Watching Robert's insane demeanor, Ned's heart sank even deeper.
He knew that one head was far from enough.
Sure enough, Robert's laughter abruptly stopped.
He threw the head aside, like discarding trash.
"Don't think that a dead man's head can absolve you of your sins!"
Robert's face darkened again.
"You are still the King-Beyond-the-Wall!"
"Your Majesty."
Lynn spoke again, his voice clearly overriding Robert's roar.
"The true enemy does not come from the North."
"It has hung over everyone's heads for a thousand years."
"What nonsense are you talking about!"
Robert roared impatiently.
"Guards!"
Lynn ignored him, simply calling out towards the door.
"Bring in the other gift!"
Under everyone's puzzled gazes, two Guards carried an iron cage covered with black cloth, and walked in.
The iron cage was placed heavily in the center of the hall.
Inside the cage, something seemed to be restlessly shifting, emitting a series of low, teeth-grinding friction sounds.
"Playing tricks!" Robert frowned.
Lynn walked to the iron cage and suddenly ripped off the black cloth!
At that instant, the entire hall fell into a deathly silence.
Everyone clearly saw what was in the cage.
It was a humanoid creature.
Its body was shriveled, like a dried corpse.
Its clothes were already tattered, revealing greyish-blue skin and stark white bones.
The most terrifying thing was its eyes.
They were a pair of ghostly blue eyes!
Filled with a deathly stillness that did not belong to this world!
Wight!
"What... what the hell is this?"
Lord Renly instinctively took a step back, his face filled with disgust.
Grand Maester Pycelle was so shocked that his beard trembled.
"A trick! This must be some kind of trick!"
The wight seemed to be stimulated by the surrounding light and sound; it violently crashed into the iron cage!
"Bang—!"
The heavy impact made everyone's heart skip a beat.
It stretched out its withered hand, consisting only of bones and sinews, reaching through the gaps in the iron bars, grabbing at the nearest Lannister Guards!
The Guards screamed in fright, swinging his sword to strike!
Clang!
The longsword struck the wight's arm, severing it completely.
But the wight seemed unfazed, its eyes still fixed on the Guards.
The severed arm was still fumbling on the ground.
"Ah—!"
The entire Iron Throne hall descended into complete chaos!