Bronze Yohn Royce.
The loyal protector of the Vale, the old Lord of Runestone.
The eyes of this man, known for his unyielding strength and honor, were now burning with the rage of an erupting volcano!
His hand was already on the hilt of his sword.
"Lady Lysa Arryn."
Yohn Royce's voice sounded like it was squeezed out of a frozen canyon.
Every word carried a bone-chilling cold!
"Why are you here?"
"And why are you here with Petyr Baelish?"
His gaze was nailed to Lysa's face.
"Lord Royce."
"Lord Waynwood."
"Ser Templeton."
Lysa's hollow eyes swept over the bannermen who had once bowed and scraped before her, now glaring with hostility.
She didn't answer Yohn Royce's questions.
She simply held her son, little Robert, who was still shivering in her arms.
Gently, she pushed Robert away, handing him to the nearest person—Petyr.
"Watch over him."
Her voice was light, drifting like a falling snowflake.
Then, she slowly stood up, facing the knights encircling them with drawn steel.
There was no fear on her face, no madness, no despair.
Only a dead silence.
As if she had just experienced a spiritual death, and what stood here now was merely a walking shell.
"I know what you want to ask."
"My husband, Jon Arryn... I killed him."
That single sentence froze the air in the room instantly.
Everyone thought they had heard wrong.
Yohn Royce's pupils contracted violently.
The Vale nobles behind him sucked in a collective breath.
"You... what did you say?"
A young knight stammered.
Lysa ignored him, staring at Yohn Royce with her empty eyes.
"I personally poured a vial of the Tears of Lys into his wine."
"I watched him drink it. I watched him die in agony on his bed."
Everyone had already heard this from Lynn, but doubts had lingered.
But now, hearing the confession from the culprit herself, the last shreds of suspicion toward Lynn vanished.
"And my eldest son... you killed him too!"
Yohn Royce let out a suppressed roar.
His eldest son had been executed by Lysa for treason while escorting her to Riverrun.
And Yohn himself had been thrown into the Sky Cells.
If Lynn hadn't arrived, he would still be rotting in there!
Waiting for Lysa to return and execute him personally!
And his son... he was so honorable, he would never commit treason!
He had always suspected the true cause of his son's death but found no proof.
Now, it was time to hear the truth from Lysa's own lips.
"Yes."
Lysa's answer was as crisp as if discussing something trivial.
"He had too much knightly honor. He wouldn't obey my orders. I had to silence him forever."
BOOM—!!!
Yohn Royce couldn't control his rage any longer.
He drew his greatsword, pointing the tip straight at Lysa!
"You poisonous bitch!"
"You god-forsaken demon!"
"Should I act, my little Lysa?"
A seductive voice whispered in Lysa's ear.
It was Petyr.
He held the trembling Robert with one arm, his other hand resting on the dagger at his waist.
He leaned close, whispering so only she could hear.
"Just nod."
"I'll kill them. I'll kill everyone here."
"Then I'll take you and Robert away. We'll go to Essos, to Pentos, to that manor by the sea."
"There will be endless sunshine. We'll be a family, together forever."
His voice, like the devil's whisper, was filled with lethal temptation.
This was everything she had ever dreamed of.
The only thing keeping her going.
Three days ago—hell, thirty minutes ago—she would have nodded without hesitation.
But now...
Lysa slowly turned her head to look at Petyr.
Looking into those grey-green eyes, still so deep she couldn't see the bottom.
A desolate smile appeared on her face.
"A family?"
She reached out, gently stroking Petyr's face.
"Petyr, did you hear?"
"Robert misses Jon Arryn."
"In his heart, the old man I poisoned with my own hands is his father."
"And I, the mother who killed his father for you... what am I in his eyes?"
For the first time, Petyr's expression changed.
A flicker of complexity, and a hint of relief.
It seemed Lysa had finally figured it out.
In that case, Lynn was willing to give her a somewhat dignified ending.
So, "Petyr" said nothing more.
"Where... where can we go?"
Lysa's voice carried the sorrow of seeing through everything.
"I killed my husband. I killed Lord Royce's son."
"I... I smothered my own father... tried to kill my own brother..."
"I betrayed the Arryns, the Tullys, everyone who loved me."
"My hands are stained with the blood of kin."
"Tell me, Petyr."
She stared dead at him.
"Does someone like me deserve endless sunshine?"
"Does someone like me deserve happiness?"
She didn't wait for Petyr's answer.
She turned back to face the stunned Vale nobles.
Slowly, Lysa smoothed her disheveled dress.
Then, in the dead silence, she lifted her skirt and curtsied deeply to Yohn Royce.
Elegant, composed.
As if she were still the high and mighty Lady of the Vale before the old Lord died.
"Lord Royce."
Her voice regained a sliver of clarity.
"I conspired with Petyr Baelish to poison Lord Jon Arryn."
"I smothered my father, Lord Hoster Tully."
"I orchestrated the Red Wedding at Riverrun."
"I, Lysa Arryn, have sinned beyond forgiveness."
Her confession hit everyone like a hammer.
No one spoke.
You could hear a pin drop in the room.
Only the soft sobbing of Robert Arryn broke the silence.
Lysa's gaze finally rested on her son.
In her empty eyes, a trace of a mother's tenderness and reluctance finally appeared.
"Lord Royce."
"Robert... my son, is innocent."
"He is a good boy, just weak in body and a little timid."
"After I die, I beg you... I beg you to care for him."
"Teach him to ride, teach him the sword. Make him a true Arryn, a true Knight of the Vale."
"Just like... just like Jon wanted."
She finished speaking and bowed deeply to Yohn Royce.
Yohn Royce looked at her, his wrinkled face twisted in extreme complexity.
He hated her.
He wanted to tear her to pieces!
But seeing her like this, seeing her final plea for her son...
That monstrous hatred found no release.
"You..."
Yohn Royce opened his mouth.
Finally, he squeezed out one word through his teeth.
"Fine."
Receiving this promise, Lysa smiled.
It was a smile of genuine relief, the likes of which she hadn't worn in her entire life.
She straightened up, took one last look at her son.
Then, she turned to the man who had held her son silently the whole time.
"Petyr."
She said his name softly.
"The real Petyr Baelish died long ago, didn't he?"
"He died back in King's Landing, right?"
At these words, everyone's eyes snapped to "Petyr"!
"Petyr" didn't answer.
He just looked at Lysa quietly.
In those grey-green eyes, the feigned warmth was gone, replaced by icy indifference.
He nodded slowly.
With the confirmation, Lysa's smile grew even brighter.
"I knew it."
She murmured to herself.
"I knew Lynn wouldn't let me off so easily."
"Good."
"This is good."
"He made me see what kind of monster I really am."
"I should... thank him."
Lysa finished, turning back to the gathered lords.
"I issue my final order in Lord Arryn's name."
"After I die, you must do your utmost to raise little Robert and fully cooperate with Lynn in integrating the Vale."
"Lynn is a man who repays debts clearly. As long as you cooperate fully, he won't harm you."
"Do you understand?"
Seeing everyone nod, Lysa didn't look at anyone again.
She turned and walked, step by step, toward the room's famous feature... the Moon Door.
Below lay a bottomless abyss and howling, freezing winds.
"Mommy!"
Robert Arryn seemed to sense something and let out a piercing scream!
"Stop her!"
Yohn Royce reacted too, roaring as he charged forward!
But it was too late.
Lysa Arryn stood at the threshold of the Moon Door, arms spread wide.
She turned, the abyss at her back.
She took a deep look at little Robert.
"Don't cry for me. I deserve this. I don't want to live in pain anymore."
With that, without hesitation, she leaned back.
And fell into the endless blue.
When a person is about to die, their words are good.
Since Lysa acted like a human being at the very end, Lynn didn't mind giving her a little humanitarian care.
At least, she wouldn't fall in pain and terror.
"Petyr" slowly closed his eyes.
His spirit power extended downwards rapidly, instantly connecting with the falling figure.
Wind roared in Lysa's ears.
It blew her hair, her dress.
Her body plummeted.
Below was the cloud-shrouded abyss.
Falling from the Moon Door takes a long time. Just as fear began to grip Lysa's heart...
Scenes flashed before her eyes.
Childhood in the gardens of Riverrun, chasing butterflies with Catelyn.
Riding horses by the river bend with Edmure.
Her maiden years at the tourney at Harrenhal, watching that thin, stubborn boy Petyr challenge Brandon Stark to a duel for her sister.
Her wedding night, the elderly husband clumsily but gently covering her with a blanket when she feigned sleep.
Her father's dying eyes, filled with disbelief but also a trace of pity.
And... her son.
Calling her "Mommy" for the first time in his milky voice.
Everything felt like an absurd, tragic dream.
"Petyr" sighed, and the scene before Lysa changed again.
In the final vision, Lysa saw herself, little Robert, and Petyr buying a manor in Lys.
The location was perfect, right by the sea, watching the merchant ships come and go.
Everything was so beautiful, so real.
At the very end, Petyr was running toward her, a rose in his hand...
No hatred.
No unwillingness.
Only release.
Complete release.
SPLAT—
A soft sound.
Like a drop of water falling into the ocean.
Silence returned.