As they walked, Wylis looked left and right to read the layout of the Red Keep, to find his way out of the damned place. It reeked of backstabbing and madness, enough that he started longing for the North again. The open, spacious, cold but fresh air of the North.
Finally, Jaime led him into the castle within the castle, Maegor's Holdfast, the heart of the fortress. It was surrounded by a dry moat and pikes, only to be crossed by a drawbridge. In one walk, Jaime showed him the location of the royal apartments, the Queen's Ballroom, the private reception hall of the Queen, and a few other places. He was also shown the path leading to the four floors of jails under the castle. But there wasn't enough time to explore them.
At the end of the tour, Wylis was shown the tiny room for his lodging. Since he was supposed to spend only nights there to sleep, it was bare bones. A small, square window, barely more than a foot tall and wide. A single bed, not big enough for him, and a table to write on with a chair. Most of the other space was just cupboards where he was to store his armor and clothing.
The small room was right underneath the floor of the royal apartments. And sure enough, he was also right underneath the Queen's bedchamber. There, by the window, was a two-inch wide brass pipe going up into the ceiling with the wall, connected to the Queen's chamber above. It could be used by the Queen to call for Wylis in case of danger. The contraption was supposedly made during the Dance era, barely ever used since then.
"Sleep easy tonight, Ser Wylis. I'll give you the keys at first light," Jaime said, and for some reason, raised his hand high to pat Wylis' shoulder. "It's not an easy job. Gets under your skin. Boils your blood. Don't let it get the better of you—It did to me."
Wylis just nodded, somewhat knowledgeable of what could boil his blood. King Aerys wasn't just cruel to the realm. He was also cruel to his wife.
Thud!
Finally, Jaime left. Wylis shut the door, locked it from inside, and fell down on the bed. It was barely enough for a six-foot-tall man, so his feet hung beyond the bottom edge. He was insanely tired and just tried to relax.
The sun was setting outside, and he was hungry. But he had no energy left to go out.
Maybe a quick nap first. Wait, there was also that reward.
Quickly, Wylis summoned the Tyrant's Squire screen and looked at the Trueborn & Bastards feature. Sadly, he was left disappointed.
[Legacy (Trueborn & Bastards) - A Tyrant is born not from name but fame. Spread the name and the seed, Trueborns or Bastards.
-> Trueborn - Each Trueborn adds 5 years to lifespan and unwavering loyalty.
-> Bastards - Each Bastard adds 1 year to lifespan and unwavering loyalty.
-> Customizer (Locked) - No Offspring Found]
Seeing offspring mentioned, he thought of Lyanna. He wasn't worried about Wenda since he'd already planned things for her. He wasn't worried about Genna since she was wealthy already. Lyanna… she wasn't planned. And she was betrothed to Robert Baratheon.
Fuck it! Let's map out the damn castle and make some tunnels.
His priorities were sorted. He was a Knight now, and soon the realm would know. The King could drown in his piss and die for all he cared.
It didn't take him long to fall asleep after that.
####
Knock! Knock! Knock!
"Ha?!"
Wylis jolted awake from his sleep, rubbing his eyes. The room looked pitch black.
"Fuck, it's dark outside? How long did I sleep?"
Groaning, he sat up and landed his feet on the stone floor. Right away, he felt his surroundings, not clearly, but he knew where not to bump his toe.
Thump! Thump!
"Ah, so that's what woke me up? Dammit, I thought it was Caliburn kicking the shit out of me." He pulled himself up and reached for the door, unlocked it, and opened it. "What is i—"
"Mmm, I knew it... fast asleep like a sweet summer babe. I thought you might be hungry, so I brought you supper."
Somewhat speechless, Wylis stepped aside and let the woman walk into his tiny room with a teasing sway of hips. She was holding a lit candle in one hand and a large covered plate in the other. She was still dressed in the regal gown she was wearing in the court.
"Lady Ashara… you didn't have to do this," Wylis awkwardly said and closed the door.
She lit the other candles in the room and set the plate on the table. Then she turned to face Wylis and smiled charmingly. And gods, she was charming. She walked close to him, being a tall, slender woman, her head reached his upper chest, and she carefully touched the wrapped bandage on his chest. She didn't seem deterred by the fact that he was bare-chested, with just his trousers underneath.
Wylis stared into her alluring, shimmering violet eyes. He knew why she was there, and he really couldn't give it to her.
Let's just be honest. Better to disappoint her now than to lie.
He eyed her form, dressed in that off-shoulder, royal blue gown, revealing her creamy pale skin, her bust covered modestly, though. The gown fell tightly around her curvy waist, and widened like a blooming flower around her waist, before draping her long legs that he'd spread before.
"I brought you cheese, meat, and eggs," Ashara chirped and gestured for him to eat. "No milk, I'm afraid—my hands were full, and I'm not that magical. Now eat, before it gets cold."
Wylis nodded and sat down on his bed instead, not really in the mood to eat anything. He seriously looked at Ashara's face. "We can't wed, Lady Ashara."
Smile vanished from Ashara's face. Her glowing skin seemingly turned paler. She froze where she stood for a while, her beautiful, violet eyes darting left and right.
"I have commitments somewhere else." He gave his reason. "If this is about the tourney… then I beg pardon. I hadn't thought you'd take me for a suitor when I was but a stableboy."
Ashara staggered and bumped her back against the cupboard. She rubbed her face with her hands, feeling sweat gather on her forehead.
Dammit—Fuck you, Aerys.
"W-Who is she? Do I know her?"
Wylis chose not to reveal the name. It was best for the realm not to know, for the time being.
"And what of Aerys? He's spoken before all the realm. How do you defy that... and live?" she asked, a hint of tears welling in her eyes.
"You'll bear no guilt in this, my Lady. I'll take my leave of the Red Keep quietly, leaving only a note to mark my choice—freedom over chains. The King will be angry, perhaps enough to send riders, but I'll manage well enough." He reassured her.
Ashara's lips quivered, but she said nothing.
"Forgive me, I must have hurt you, my lady."
Ashara looked down then, away from Wylis. She shut her eyes, clearly trying to manage the storm within her thoughts.
Had she already gone along with what Aerys decided? Wylis wondered. Was she really so willing to marry him?
"What happened at the tourney… it wasn't just you. I chose it too. I won't put that weight on you, Wylis." Ashara said and moved towards the door. "It's only… you said we'd meet again, remember? I didn't expect it to mean anything. But then you came, and—well, you did mean something. Good luck, Wylis."
Wylis' jaw tightened as he watched her reach for the door handle. "Thank you for understanding me, my Lady."
But Ashara didn't open the door. She just stood there, her shoulders shaking, her hand holding the handle. Some time passed, and without looking back, she spoke.
"One… One last time… before you leave… Wylis, I want to…"
What does she mean?
Click!
Oh?
Ashara locked the door and turned around towards Wylis, her eyes red around the violet pupil. Her thin lips pursed tight, her face insanely innocent and beautiful.
"... Feel you… one last time."
______________________
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