It was late at night when Winter swept over the Kingsroad.
Winter did not alarm anyone.
It landed silently on the ruins of Rhaenys' Hill.
The Dragonpit.
Once the glory of the Targaryen Dynasty, now only dilapidated ruins remained.
The massive dome had long since collapsed, revealing the dark night sky, and grotesque dragon skeleton sculptures cast twisted shadows under the moonlight.
As soon as Winter landed, dozens of silent figures emerged from the shadows.
Lynn's Guard in King's Landing.
They had been waiting there for a long time.
They had even cleared out a sufficiently spacious area and prepared a large amount of livestock as food for Winter.
"Watch her closely."
Lynn dismounted, leaving only a simple command.
"Yes, my lord."
Lynn helped Myrcella, who was still a bit weak in the knees, down from the dragon's back.
"Winter, I will have people regularly send you food; you stay here obediently."
"If you want to go out to play, or if you don't have enough food and go hunting yourself, then you must go out under the cover of night, and don't let anyone discover you."
"Otherwise, your father would be in big trouble."
Winter nodded humanely, then curiously surveyed the massive Dragonpit.
Afterward, Lynn and Myrcella changed into the common cloaks they had prepared and silently merged into the night of King's Landing.
As the two re-entered the oppressive corridors of the The Red Keep.
A figure in a white cloak leaned against the corner of the corridor leading to Maegors Holdfast, as if specifically waiting for them.
Jaime Lannister.
The moment Lynn and Myrcella entered King's Landing, a special messenger reported it, and Jaime was specifically waiting for Lynn here.
His handsome face no longer held its usual flippancy; instead, it was replaced by a complex scrutiny.
"Lynn."
Jaime's gaze swept past Lynn and landed on Myrcella behind him.
His eyes softened for a moment but quickly returned to their coldness.
"Ser Lannister."
Lynn responded calmly.
"His Majesty the King is already asleep, and the Queen... is not in a good mood."
Jaime's words were very plain but carried an undisguised warning.
"I advise you not to disturb her now."
"Thank you for the reminder."
Lynn ignored his warning.
He simply took Myrcella's hand in front of Jaime and walked past him.
As he passed Jaime, Jaime looked at Myrcella and opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to say something.
But the words caught in his throat, and he swallowed them back.
After all, Myrcella was his daughter; it was false not to care... Jaime watched the two figures leave, his hand unconsciously tightening on his sword hilt.
He couldn't see through this man from the North.
He was like a bottomless mist, silently infiltrating every corner of King's Landing, manipulating everyone in the palm of his hand.
What bothered him most was that he found himself unable to easily understand his sister's thoughts as he used to.
Ever since Lynn came to King's Landing, Cersei had stopped letting him touch her.
This troubled him somewhat.
And for a while, he couldn't figure out where the problem truly lay.
...Lynn first escorted Myrcella back to her room next to his own.
Then he turned and walked towards the other side of the Tower of the Hand.
The master of coin's tower.
This was once the lair of Petyr Baelish.
Every corner of the room seemed to still carry the scent of his schemes and lies.
But now, the owner here had changed.
The room was brightly lit.
Sansa Stark sat behind the large desk that belonged to the master of coin.
She wore a dark blue gown, her reddish-brown hair meticulously pinned back, revealing a clear forehead and a slender neck.
Her pretty face, once filled with innocence and fantasy, now carried a weariness and focus unsuited for her age.
Before her, a mountain of ledgers and parchment scrolls was piled up.
She held a quill, her delicate brows tightly furrowed.
She seemed to be troubled by some complex numerical problem.
When Lynn pushed open the door, Sansa didn't even notice.
"It seems our master of coin has run into a small problem."
Lynn's voice made Sansa's body tremble.
She suddenly looked up.
When she saw it was Lynn, a light of surprise instantly burst forth in her blue eyes.
All her fatigue vanished!
"Lord Lynn!"
Sansa instinctively stood up and went to greet him as she used to.
Sandor also slowly emerged from the shadows and knelt on one knee.
Lynn's departure from King's Landing was abrupt, and he had nowhere to go.
He knew Lynn and Sansa had a good relationship, so he could only find Sansa and protect her safety, thereby repaying Lynn's kindness.
"Please, all of you, sit."
Lynn nodded at Sandor.
Then he walked to Sansa's opposite side, casually pulled out a chair, and sat down, his gaze sweeping over the messy ledgers on the table.
"How does it feel to be master of coin?"
"Like... like falling into a bottomless pit."
Sansa said with a bitter face, her voice still carrying a hint of grievance.
"I used to think that managing money was just putting gold dragons from one bag into another."
"But now I realize that the kingdom's finances are like a ball of yarn played with by a cat; there's no way to find the end."
"Every expenditure is like a lie, and every income is like a trap."
Sansa pointed to one of the ledgers and said indignantly.
"These accounts are clearly wrong..."
"Look here, the armory reported needing three hundred sets of brand new armor, with a budget of three thousand gold dragons."
"But I sent people to investigate, and they just re-hammered the old armor, painted it black, and called it brand new armor. Isn't that just a cover-up!"
"And here, the Throne Room consumes fifty gallons of Dornish red wine every day, but His Majesty King Robert has clearly only been drinking ale recently!"
Sansa grew more and more agitated.
Her pretty face flushed red with anger.
Lynn listened quietly, a smile playing on his lips.
Sansa had begun to learn to think, to question.
"Sansa, this is King's Landing."
"Here, behind every gold dragon, there are ten greedy worms."
"Then what should I do?"
Sansa looked at Lynn helplessly.
"I can't just arrest all these people, can I?"
"Why not?" Lynn countered.
Sansa froze.
"Remember, you are the master of coin now."
"Standing behind you is me, is House Stark."
"You don't need evidence, Sansa."
"You only need suspicion."
Lynn looked at her.
"Starting tomorrow, send the armory's supervisor and the banquet hall's steward to the black cells."
"No trial needed, no reason needed."
"Just tell everyone that the master of coin suspects them of corruption."
"Kill the chicken to scare the monkeys."
"Kill two real big worms, and this will let those little chickens know that this coop now has a new owner."
Sansa, being intelligent, instantly understood Lynn's meaning.
So... power could be used like this?
A strange sense of excitement rose from her heart.
She liked this feeling.
"I... I understand."
Sansa nodded vigorously.
After comforting Sansa, Lynn returned to his room.
He had barely sat down when a servant silently appeared at the door, handing him a wax-sealed letter.
There were no markings on the envelope.
Lynn opened the letter; there were only a few lines of text on the paper.
The handwriting was scrawled and full of a certain cynical playfulness.
"My dearest friend:
On behalf of myself and the tanned beauties of Astapor, I extend my sincerest greetings.
I must say, you are truly a genius.
Life here is far more interesting than I imagined.
Your Targaryen Queen understands how to rule better than any king I have ever seen.
Grey Worm and his Unsullied understand discipline better than the Lannister army.
And your loyal Bear Island knight, his fanaticism is more fervent than a miser looking at gold.
Of course, what surprised me most was your white sugar.
The Archon of Pentos absolutely loves the stuff, and of course, I do too.
Illyrio is willing to trade grain, weapons, and anything else we desire.
Thanks to you, if it weren't for the blockade of Slavers Bay, Astapor would now be wealthier than any city in Westeros.
The only drawback is that the wine here is terrible.
If you have any more brilliant ideas next time, could you please send a few barrels of Arbor gold wine along?
Your most loyal friend,
Tyrion Lannister."
Lynn finished reading the letter, a smile flashing across his lips.
It seemed Tyrion had figured things out; he had recovered from the blow and specifically traveled to Essos to find him.
From his tone, he had already decided to settle in Slavers Bay.
Daenerys wanted to establish a foothold in Astapor, and with the assistance of the clever dwarf Tyrion, plus Jorah and Grey Worm supporting her, it shouldn't be difficult.
And his white sugar trade had become the economic lifeline supporting this nascent regime.
Now, Lynn had a stable base on the Eastern Continent.
Moreover, Astapor's development momentum was quite strong in the short term, so there was no need to rush to deal with matters there for now.
Lynn held the letter to the candlelight, watching it turn to ash.
Just then, the door was suddenly pushed open from the outside.
Cersei Lannister burst in without even knocking.
She wore a black silk gown, her golden hair casually draped over her shoulders.
Her beautiful face no longer held its usual pride and composure; only an inexplicable fury remained.
She walked straight up to Lynn.
Her beautiful green eyes stared fixedly at him, like a lioness about to devour someone.
"As you wish, your wedding to Myrcella will be in three days."
Cersei's voice seemed forced out.
"I know."
Lynn replied calmly.
"You had better pray."
Cersei took a step forward, her body almost pressing against Lynn's.
She no longer attempted any seductive tactics; her green eyes held only the purest hatred and warning.
Clearly, she was not only angry about Myrcella but also angry about Lynn's indifference when she had previously tried to offer herself to him in exchange for the master of coin position.
She had clearly convinced her father Tywin to support Lynn with the Gift, but Lynn had acted as if he were dead that day!
It infuriated her!
"Lynn, you had better pray that at the wedding and after the wedding, my daughter will not shed a single tear because of you."
"Otherwise,"
Cersei's voice was very low, yet filled with a madness capable of tearing a person apart.
"I promise, I will personally burn everything you care about."
"Your North, the Gift, the wildlings, the Starks, the Unsullied, and your damned dragon."
"I will turn them, one by one, all into ashes."
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