Deep in the Lion's Den, silence hung everywhere.
Solomon sat on the edge of the lord's bed.
Only one candle burned in the room.
He spread his right hand, palm up, and a thought formed in his mind.
He whispered softly, "Flame."
Solomon's eyes widened.
A small flame sprang up from the center of his palm, as if out of nothing.
It was only the size of his thumb joint.
Bright orange-yellow.
It jumped quietly without a single sound.
The flame's light reflected in his deep eyes.
There was no joy in that gaze.
Only investigation and confusion over this strange phenomenon.
He tried again.
He extinguished it, then whispered once more: "Flame."
The flame appeared again.
Still the same size.
Tame, like a domesticated animal.
No, a domesticated flame.
He closed his eyes.
The bloody, cruel picture he had painted with his own hands surged into his mind uncontrollably.
Wildlings twisted in fire.
They ran everywhere but had nowhere to hide.
In the end, they were burned alive.
Their screams still echoed in his ears.
His vision was covered by blood-red firelight.
In that twisted light and shadow, he saw a beautiful golden cup slowly appear.
A hand, wearing a ring with a blue crystal, extended a finger and lightly dipped the blue crystal into the cup.
Was this poison?
Were the flames revealing a conspiracy?
Or something else?
Solomon snapped his eyes open.
The flame in his palm flickered.
A very serious thought struck him.
Was the source of this flame that burning?
Had those lives consumed by fire granted him this power of flame?
"It can't be..." he murmured, his throat dry.
Solomon reached out and pointed at a distant extinguished candle.
The candle's flame burst to life out of nothing, proving that this fire was not his illusion, but had real destructive power.
He tried to control that small flame.
With a slight shift of thought, the flame stretched out into a running wolf.
Then it shrank again, becoming a fish swimming through the air.
Finally, it turned into a rabbit with ears perked up, jumping.
The shapes were vivid and lifelike.
Though it could leave his palm, it could never grow larger.
Solomon frowned.
A strong chill rose in his heart.
What was this?
Or rather, if he wanted to gain true power, to strengthen himself with fire...
Did he really have to... continue burning people?
That thought crawled up like a venomous snake, making him shiver all over.
He shook his head to stay clear.
As he sank into thought, a muffled scolding and a dull sound of body impact suddenly came from outside the door.
Solomon's eyes sharpened.
The small wolf-shaped flame, the size of a thumb, that had been running in the distance, vanished at once.
"Damn it... let me go! You damn wildling women!"
That was Hekk's voice, furious and desperate.
Then came a dull thud, like something heavy falling on the ground, followed by a few short, rough female grunts.
Solomon stood up, walked quickly to the door, and pulled the heavy wooden door open.
The scene outside made him pause, then he felt a mix of amusement and absurdity.
Hekk was on the ground in an extremely狼狈 position, one hand stretching forward futilely, his face covered in dirt.
Before him stood the tall, strong, beautiful daughter of the wildling chieftain, holding a spear.
The spear's cold tip pointed at Hekk's throat.
Behind her stood three stout female wildling warriors with weapons.
They blocked the door, forming an unbreakable line that held Hekk firmly outside.
The wildling chieftain's daughter's face showed no expression.
Her deep eyes gave nothing away.
When Hekk saw Solomon, he seemed to see a savior.
He rolled and scrambled to his feet.
Ignoring the dust on his clothes, he pointed at the wildling chieftain's daughter, his face full of anger.
"My lord, Solomon!"
"I have urgently critical military news to report to you! But this... this wildling woman, she and her men, refused to let me enter no matter what! They even knocked me down!"
The wildling chieftain's daughter did not even blink at Hekk's complaint.
She simply shifted her gaze from Hekk to Solomon.
There was no apology in her eyes.
Only a question.
She seemed to say with silent language: Without your order, not even a fly gets in.
Solomon looked at the scene before him.
His mind drifted to the argument with Evelyn not long ago.
That was the day he decided to appoint the wildling chieftain's daughter and her female warriors as his personal bodyguards.
Evelyn's voice rang in his memory.
Her sapphire eyes were full of worry, carrying rare agitation and confusion.
"This is absurd! My lord Solomon!"
"Let a group of wildlings be your personal guards? Oh no! You'll be laughed at by all the nobles of the Riverlands!"
"They'll say the Black Lion of the Riverlands is a madman enchanted by wildling women!"
At that time, he had answered calmly.
"Doesn't House Stark have wildling clans among their bannermen? Ed Stark even likes to go personally to settle clan conflicts."
Evelyn raised her voice.
"That's different!"
"That's the North! Nordemen and wildlings are not much different. This is the Riverlands! The nobles here care about courtly etiquette, knightly culture, civilized rules. They'll despise you. They'll isolate you."
Solomon remembered looking into her eyes then and saying, word by word, "I was already out of place with the nobles of the Riverlands."
"My people... are also out of place with the Riverlands. Farmers, robbers, merchants, exiles, wandering knights. Before, there was even a mercenary."
"And even my bound commoners... are out of place with the Riverlands."
After all, no family in the Riverlands had commoners who constantly hoped for war to gain war wealth.
The final argument ended with Evelyn's compromise, but the worry in her eyes never fully disappeared.
Solomon's gaze swept from Hekk's battered face to the sharply outlined face of the wildling chieftain's daughter.
Now it seemed his decision had not been wrong.
He nodded approval to her.
A simple gesture.
The cold ice in the wildling chieftain's daughter's eyes seemed to melt at the edge.
Her tense body relaxed slightly.
She withdrew her spear and stepped back one pace.
She lowered her head to Solomon.
The three female warriors behind her also put away their weapons.
Like shadows, they silently retreated to both sides of the corridor, opening the path to the bedroom.
The entire process was without a single word.
Hekk finally breathed.
He glared fiercely at the wildling chieftain's daughter's back, then quickly stepped to Solomon and pulled a sealed letter from his chest.
Solomon took the letter.
The mark on the envelope showed it was from Deddington Castle.
The envelope was not even properly sealed, obviously hastily closed.
He tore the seal and unfolded the paper.
The writing was hurried and frantic.
Solomon read the letter silently.
The main content was that Lady Roslin had sent troops out of the city to drive away the enemy, but had suffered a crushing defeat. She was now summoning her bannermen...
Hekk stood beside him, not daring to breathe, watching the lord's face nervously.
After a long time, Solomon lifted his head and slowly closed the letter.
He let out a long breath and said softly,
"Ultimately... it has come."
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