The king's herald has arrived!
Ned Stark's face turned grim instantly.
He waved at the guard captain outside—wait—then turned back, eyes boring into Lynn.
Arya's face went white. She clutched Lynn's sleeve like a lifeline. As if that could keep him safe in this study.
"Father, you can't let him go!" Arya's voice cracked. "The king... the king will kill him!"
"This is the king's summons, Arya. No one can refuse." Ned's voice was exhausted. Helpless.
He looked at Lynn, eyes full of worry. "Are you ready?"
"Don't worry, my lord." Lynn's face stayed calm.
He patted Arya's hand gently. Handed the box containing Viserys's head to Ned's guard.
"Bring this. Also—go to the dungeons. Bring the gift the Night's Watch sent."
"Gift?" Ned blinked. But quickly understood.
Things had spiraled beyond Ned's control. He could only sigh. Turn. Stride out to change into his Hand's finery. He'd stand beside Lynn in the throne room. Do what little he could.
The study held only Lynn and Arya now. The air thick with suffocating silence.
"You..." Arya opened her mouth. Tears fell before words came.
She hated her helplessness. Her weakness. In this massive power vortex, she could only watch the person she cared about most walk toward an unknown abyss.
"I'm going with you." Arya suddenly looked up. Her tear-washed grey eyes blazed with unprecedented determination.
"What?" Lynn froze.
"I said, I'm going with you! If something happens... or if Father really won't let me marry you, I'll run away with you! We'll go North. Beyond the Wall. Anywhere! I don't want to stay in this hellhole anymore!"
Like a little wolf declaring she'd run away from home. Using the fiercest tone to say the softest words.
Lynn's heart jolted.
He looked at this stubborn girl. She was terrified herself. But willing to abandon everything for him.
Warmth mixed with guilt surged through him.
"Fool." Lynn reached out. Wiped her tears with his thumb.
"I'll be fine." He looked into her eyes. Each word deliberate. "When I come back, I'll take you away from King's Landing. Somewhere more interesting. I promise."
Arya bit her lip. Looked into his sincere eyes. Finally nodded hard.
The walk to the Iron Throne room was long. Oppressive.
The Red Keep's corridors hung with Targaryen-era dragon tapestries. Those golden-threaded beasts seemed ready to leap from the walls in the torchlight. Tear. Devour.
Ned walked beside Lynn, steps heavy.
"When you see Robert, no matter what he says, don't argue." Ned's voice was low. Final warnings. "His temper's volatile now. One spark sets him off."
"I will, my lord." Lynn replied.
But his gaze swept the Lannister guards lining the corridor. Their faces identical in cold arrogance.
Tywin Lannister. The old lion crouched in Casterly Rock had finally bared his fangs.
Gold Cloaks had been on duty when Lynn left. Shortly after, the Lannisters muscled in.
Of course Ned couldn't outplay Tywin.
And Lynn knew: Robert's mercurial paranoia wasn't just from alcohol and power. It was poison. Growing inside him. A slow toxin brewed by the Faceless Men. Mind-destroying.
Turning a corner, two figures blocked their path.
Queen Cersei Lannister. And her twin brother, Jaime Lannister.
Cersei wore a golden brocade gown. Her beautiful face carried lazy mockery. Her gaze roamed Lynn like he was her property.
"Look who's back." Cersei's voice dripped with her signature tone. "The hero of the North. King-Beyond-the-Wall. What, bored of Essos? Missed King's Landing?"
Jaime's hand rested on his gilded white-scabbard sword, green eyes wary.
Lynn's gaze passed over Jaime. Landed on Cersei. His lips curved slightly.
"His Grace should be very pleased with my gift. I can prove my loyalty to the king. Perhaps the queen should prove hers as well. Your behavior makes your motives... questionable."
Jaime looked confused. But Cersei's smile froze.
That sentence struck her most secret wound.
This Lynn—who'd taken her body—was reminding her she was still his possession.
Seeing Lynn's mocking eyes, she remembered that day. Him riding her mercilessly. Shame and another feeling surged. Her nails dug into her palms. Vision darkening. Breath catching.
"Let's go." Lynn and Ned walked past.
Lynn gave Cersei a pointed look as he left.
Cersei's face paled. She wanted to lash out. But thinking of Princess Myrcella in Lynn's hands, anger turned to helplessness.
Her face awkward, she nodded imperceptibly.
When the heavy doors swung open, the Iron Throne room's cold, oppressive air hit them.
The hall was packed.
The Small Council, all present.
Master of Coin "Littlefinger" Petyr Baelish wore his trademark ambiguous smile. Though he sat in a wheelchair now. Crippled for life.
Master of Whisperers "Spider" Varys, hands tucked in sleeves, like a fat harmless herbivore.
The king's brother, Lord Renly Baratheon of Storm's End, in fine clothes, expression haughty.
Grand Maester Pycelle, decrepit, seemingly about to doze off. But a flash of sharpness in his eyes betrayed hidden competence.
All eyes focused on Lynn entering the hall.
But most striking: the man atop the Iron Throne.
Robert Baratheon.
He'd gotten fatter since Lynn left. His black velvet royal coat strained over his massive belly, ready to burst. His face flushed unhealthily. Eyes clouded. Full of irritation and impatience.
His heavy breathing reeked of wine from ten meters away.
That once-vigorous face, corroded by poison, drink, and paranoia beyond recognition.
Not a king. A frustrated boar trapped on a throne.
"You finally deigned to return, my... King-Beyond-the-Wall!" Robert's voice rumbled like thunder through the hall.
He practically spat "King-Beyond-the-Wall."
Lynn ignored the blatant mockery. Knelt on one knee. Standard knight's courtesy.
"I salute you, Your Grace."
"Salute?" Robert gave a crude laugh. "You let hundreds of thousands of wildlings into my kingdom. Call that a salute? You crowned yourself king. Built your army on my land. Then come tell me you salute? Very respectful indeed."
"Lynn! Do you think because I knighted you myself, I won't take your head?"
Robert surged from the throne. His massive frame cast a huge shadow. His hand gripped the jeweled pommel at his waist. Bloodshot eyes locked on Lynn below.
The hall's atmosphere froze.
But beneath the tension, others' eyes flickered with schadenfreude. Revealing their attitude toward Lynn.
When Lynn controlled the Gold Cloaks, everyone gave him wide berth. He'd been untouchable. Suffocating them.
Now they relished his downfall. Hoped to eliminate him completely.
Ned's heart leapt to his throat. He stepped forward to defend Lynn.
Lynn shook his head.
Lynn looked up. Met Robert's furious gaze calmly.
"Your Grace, I've come to present you with gifts."
"Gifts?" Robert laughed like he'd heard the world's funniest joke. "What gifts?"
Lynn didn't speak. Just clapped.
The guard carrying the wooden box stepped forward under all eyes. Held the box high.
Lynn stood. Personally removed the black cloth.
When Viserys's death-frozen head appeared before everyone—
The entire hall erupted.
Robert's breath caught. He stared at the head. That face he'd hated for over a decade.
His rage gradually twisted into sick pleasure.
"Targaryen... haha... Targaryen bastard!" Robert burst into manic laughter. "Well done! Lynn! Beautifully done! You actually did it."
He descended the throne. Grabbed the head. Held it high for all to see.
"See this! This is what happens to Targaryens!"
Watching Robert's madness, Ned's heart sank deeper. He knew: one head wasn't nearly enough.
Sure enough, Robert's laughter cut off.
He tossed the head aside like trash.
"Don't think a dead man's head erases your crimes! You're still King-Beyond-the-Wall!"
"Your Grace." Lynn spoke again. Voice cutting through Robert's roar. "The true enemy isn't from the North. It's hung over everyone's heads. For a thousand years."
"What nonsense are you spouting!" Robert bellowed impatiently. "Guards!"
Lynn ignored him. Shouted toward the doors. "Bring the other gift!"
Under confused stares, two guards carried in an iron cage covered in black cloth. Set it heavily in the hall's center.
Something inside shifted restlessly. Making low, teeth-grinding scraping sounds.
"Theatrics!" Robert frowned.
Lynn walked to the cage. Ripped off the black cloth!
That instant, the entire hall fell deathly silent.
Everyone saw what was in the cage.
A humanoid creature. Body withered like a dried corpse. Clothes ragged, exposing grey-blue skin and white bone.
Most terrifying: its eyes. Glowing ice-blue! Filled with death not of this world!
A wight!
"What... what the hell is that?" Lord Renly stumbled back, face disgusted.
Grand Maester Pycelle's beard trembled. "Trickery! This must be some trick!"
The wight, stimulated by light and sound, slammed into the cage!
BANG!
The impact made every heart skip.
It thrust out a withered, skeletal hand through the bars. Grabbed for the nearest Lannister guard!
The guard screamed. Swung his sword!
CLANG!
The blade severed the wight's arm clean off. But the wight didn't react. Its eyes still locked on the guard.
The severed arm kept crawling on the floor.
"AHHH—!"
The Iron Throne room descended into chaos!
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
Read up to (120+ ) advanced chapters on Patre\on
Visit us here: patreon.com/DarkGolds
Happy reading, everyone!