It was late at night when Winter skimmed over the Kingsroad.
Winter didn't alert anyone.
It landed silently on the ruins of the Hill of Rhaenys.
The Dragonpit.
The former glory of the Targaryen dynasty, now just ruins and broken walls.
The huge dome had long collapsed, revealing the black hole of the night sky; hideous dragon bone sculptures cast twisted shadows under the moonlight.
As soon as Winter landed, dozens of silent figures walked out of the shadows.
Lynn's guards in King's Landing.
They had been waiting here for a long time.
They had even cleared a spacious enough space and prepared a large number of livestock as food for Winter.
"Watch it."
Lynn dismounted, leaving only a simple command.
"Yes, my Lord."
Lynn helped the still-shaky Myrcella off the dragon's back.
"Winter, I will send someone to deliver food to you regularly; stay here obediently."
"If you want to go out to play, or if the food isn't enough and you hunt for yourself, you must go out under the cover of night, don't let anyone discover you."
"Otherwise, your dad will be in big trouble."
Winter nodded humanly, then looked curiously at this huge dragon pit.
Subsequently, Lynn and Myrcella changed into pre-prepared ordinary cloaks, silently blending into the night of King's Landing.
When the two stepped back into the oppressive corridors of the Red Keep.
A figure wearing a white cloak was leaning against the corner of the corridor leading to Maegor's Holdfast, as if waiting specifically for them.
Jaime Lannister.
The moment Lynn and Myrcella entered King's Landing, someone reported it; Jaime was waiting here specifically for Lynn.
His handsome face lacked its usual frivolity, replaced by a complex scrutiny.
"Lynn."
Jaime's gaze passed over Lynn, landing on Myrcella behind him.
His eyes softened for an instant, but quickly returned to coldness.
"Ser Lannister."
Lynn responded calmly.
"His Grace is asleep. The Queen... is not in a good mood."
Jaime spoke flatly, but with an undisguised warning.
"I advise you, it's best not to disturb her now."
"Thanks for the reminder."
Lynn ignored his warning.
He just held Myrcella's hand in front of Jaime and brushed past him.
Passing by Jaime, Jaime opened his mouth looking at Myrcella, seeming to want to say something.
But words came to his lips, and he swallowed them back.
After all, Myrcella was his daughter; it would be a lie to say he didn't care...
Jaime watched the backs of the two leaving, his golden hand unconsciously gripping the hilt of his sword.
He couldn't see through this man from the North.
Like a bottomless fog, he silently infiltrated every corner of King's Landing, playing everyone like a fiddle.
What unsettled him most was that he found he could no longer read his sister's mind as easily as before.
Ever since Lynn came to King's Landing, Cersei wouldn't let him touch her.
This distressed him somewhat.
And he couldn't figure out for a while where the problem lay?
---
Lynn sent Myrcella back to the room next to his first.
Then he turned and walked to the other side of the Tower of the Hand.
The Master of Coin's tower.
This used to be Petyr Baelish's lair.
Every corner of the room seemed to still retain the smell of his conspiracies and lies.
But now, the owner had changed.
The room was brightly lit.
Sansa Stark was sitting behind the huge desk belonging to the Master of Coin.
She wore a dark blue dress, her auburn hair pinned back meticulously, revealing a smooth forehead and slender neck.
On that pretty face once written with innocence and fantasy, there was now a trace of fatigue and focus that didn't belong to her age.
In front of her, account books and parchment scrolls were piled like hills.
She was gripping a quill, her delicate brows knit tightly together.
Seeming troubled by some complex numerical problem.
When Lynn pushed the door open, Sansa didn't even notice.
"It seems our Master of Coin has encountered a small trouble."
Lynn's voice made Sansa's body tremble.
She looked up abruptly.
Seeing it was Lynn, a light of surprise burst instantly in her blue eyes.
All fatigue swept away!
"Lord Lynn!"
Sansa stood up instinctively, welcoming him as before.
Sandor also walked slowly out of the shadows, dropping to one knee.
Lynn left King's Landing abruptly; he had nowhere to go.
Knowing Lynn had a good relationship with Sansa, he could only find Sansa and protect her safety to repay Lynn's kindness.
"Sit."
Lynn nodded to Sandor.
Then he walked opposite Sansa, casually pulled out a chair and sat down, his gaze sweeping over the messy account books on the table.
"How does it feel to be Master of Coin?"
"Like... like falling into a bottomless pit."
Sansa made a bitter face, her voice carrying a trace of grievance.
"I used to think managing money was just moving gold dragons from one bag to another."
"But now I realize, the kingdom's finances are like a ball of yarn played with by a cat; I can't find the thread at all."
"Every expenditure looks like a lie, every income looks like a trap."
Sansa pointed at one of the ledgers, speaking angrily.
"This account is obviously wrong..."
"Look here, the armory reported needing to replace three hundred sets of brand new armor, budget three thousand gold dragons."
"But I sent someone to check; they just hammered the old armor again, painted a layer of black paint, and counted it as brand new armor. Isn't this just fooling around!"
"And here, the Throne Room consumes fifty gallons of Dornish red wine every day, but King Robert clearly only drinks ale recently!"
Sansa spoke more and more excitedly.
That pretty face flushed red with anger.
Lynn listened quietly, a smile appearing on his face.
Sansa had begun to learn to think, to question.
"Sansa, this is King's Landing."
"Here, behind every gold dragon lie ten greedy worms."
"Then what should I do?"
Sansa looked at Lynn helplessly.
"I can't arrest all these people, can I?"
"Why not?" Lynn asked back.
Sansa was stunned.
"Remember, you are now the Master of Coin."
"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 master of the armory and the chief steward of the banquet hall to the black cells for me."
"No trial needed, no reason needed."
"Just tell everyone, the Master of Coin suspects them of embezzlement."
"Kill the chicken to scare the monkeys."
"Kill two real big worms; only then will those little chickens know this coop has a new owner now."
Sansa was ice-smart, instantly understanding Lynn's meaning.
So... power could be used like this?
An inexplicable excitement rose from the bottom of her heart.
She liked this feeling.
"I... I understand."
Sansa nodded vigorously.
Having comforted Sansa, Lynn returned to his room.
Not long after he sat down, an attendant appeared silently at the door, handing over a letter sealed with wax.
No markings on the envelope.
Lynn opened the letter; there were only a few lines on the paper.
The handwriting was scribbled and full of a certain cynical tone.
[My dear friend:]
[On behalf of myself, and those sun-tanned beauties of Astapor, I send you my sincerest greetings.]
[I have to say, you really are a genius.]
[Life here is far more interesting than I imagined.]
[Your Targaryen Queen knows how to rule better than any King I've ever seen.]
[Grey Worm and his Unsullied understand discipline better than the Lannister army.]
[And your loyal Bear Island knight, his fanaticism is more intense than a miser looking at gold.]
[Of course, the biggest surprise is still your white sugar.]
[The Magisters of Pentos simply love that stuff to death; of course, I like it too.]
[Illyrio is willing to trade grain, weapons, and anything we want for it.]
[Thanks to you, if not for the blockade of the bay, Astapor should now be richer than any city in Westeros.]
[The only flaw is that the wine here tastes terrible.]
[If you have any more genius ideas next time, could you send a few barrels of Arbor Gold over by the way?]
[Your most loyal friend,]
[Tyrion Lannister.]
Lynn finished reading the letter, a smile flashing at the corner of his mouth.
It seemed Tyrion had figured it out; he walked out of the blow and came specifically to Essos to find him.
Looking at his meaning, he had decided to settle in Slaver's Bay.
For Daenerys to gain a firm foothold in Astapor, with Tyrion the clever dwarf assisting, plus Jorah and Grey Worm aiding her, it shouldn't be difficult.
And his white sugar trade became the economic lifeline supporting this new regime.
Now, he, Lynn, had a stable base on the eastern continent.
And in the short term, Astapor's development momentum was also a bit fierce; he didn't need to rush to manage things there for the time being.
Lynn held the letter to the candle flame, watching it turn to ash.
Just then, the door was pushed open violently from the outside.
Cersei Lannister burst in without even knocking.
She wore a black silk dress, golden hair draped casually over her shoulders.
On that beautiful face, there was none of the usual pride and calm, only an inexplicable rage.
She walked straight up to Lynn.
Those beautiful green eyes stared fixedly at him, like a lioness about to devour someone.
"As you wished, your wedding with Myrcella is in three days."
Cersei's voice sounded squeezed out.
"I know."
Lynn answered calmly.
"You'd better pray."
Cersei took a step forward, her body almost pressing against Lynn.
She didn't try any seductive methods again; in those green eyes was only the purest hatred and warning.
Obviously, she wasn't just angry for Myrcella, but also for Lynn's indifference when she tried to offer herself in exchange for the Master of Coin position earlier.
Clearly, she had convinced her father Tywin to support Lynn's new Gift, but Lynn played dead that day!
Simply infuriating her!
"Lynn, you'd better pray that during the wedding and after, my daughter won't shed a single tear because of you."
"Otherwise,"
Cersei's voice dropped very low, yet was filled with madness enough to tear a person apart.
"I promise, I will personally burn everything you care about."
"Your North, the Gift, wildlings, Starks, Unsullied, and your damned dragon."
"I will turn them, piece by piece, all into ashes."