Cersei and Jaime exchanged a look, and in each other's eyes, they saw the same thing.
And at that moment, they both realized—there was no talking their way out of this anymore.
A heavy silence fell over them, pressing on their chests like lead.
Watching the silent exchange between the two, Kal suddenly felt his interest fading.
Thinking of that old man—no matter what—Kal still felt a ripple in his heart.
And so, after saying his piece, all he left them with was a sigh.
"Kingslayer. Cersei. I don't have to kill you. I have no need to. Judgment isn't my duty."
"I'm not the king, after all."
Kal looked at them both.
"So if you want to live—then all you need to do is pay the price for what you've done."
"Go and tell Robert yourself—that his three golden-haired children are nothing but false heirs, born of a union that defies all law and custom!"
"No—no, that's impossible! You damned bastard, what nonsense are you spewing?!"
But the moment Kal said those words, Cersei once again turned into a madwoman driven over the edge.
Her eyes were bloodshot, veins bursting in the whites.
"Yes, I see it now—you want to take Joffrey's place! You're jealous!"
"You filthy, despicable mongrel—keep dreaming!!!"
She had barely shouted those few lines when something seemed to click in her mind.
She rose to her feet, not even caring about her disheveled clothes or the way she was trembling from the cold, and jabbed a finger at Kal's nose, unleashing a storm of curses.
As if doing so could somehow protect the carefully woven lie that had just been torn to shreds.
Hearing her shriek with such venom, Kal furrowed his brow.
And just then, cutting through Cersei's near-hysterical rant, a voice rang out—calm, cold as the snows of the North.
"Ser Kal Stone... do you understand what it would mean if you go through with this?"
Jaime Lannister looked at Kal with a gaze that was both calm and conflicted, clearly forcing himself to remain composed as he tried to change Kal's mind.
But Kal didn't hesitate for even a second.
"War," he said plainly. "Endless war."
"And a shame that can only be cleansed with blood."
Seeing how clearly Kal understood the consequences, Jaime looked momentarily lost.
But Kal seemed to grasp the doubt in his eyes.
So he looked straight at him and said bluntly: "Are you still naïve enough to believe that as long as this remains a secret, a war of blood and iron won't break out?"
"Ser Jaime Lannister, it seems you still haven't realized—"
"Ever since Jon Arryn died, Westeros has already been teetering on the edge of collapse!"
"Especially under the watchful gaze of a pack of wolves—ambitious men circling like predators."
At those words, Jaime stared blankly at the calm-faced bastard before him, unable to comprehend why Kal would say such a thing.
But Kal continued: "The lion of the Westerlands. The schemers of the court. The king's brother. The queen, guilty of incest..."
"The Vale, stripped of its pillar and being watched. The Reach, long absent from court, now scheming to reclaim a seat at the table. And many more hidden plots lurking in the dark—too many to count in a single breath."
"These ambitious men have spotted a crack. Through it, they peer into the madness within—temptations strong enough to drive anyone insane."
"And the death of Jon Arryn... became the fuse that lit the fire."
Jaime's expression shifted—shocked, disturbed. He couldn't help but fall into deep thought.
Even Cersei, who had been cursing in hysterics moments earlier, paused when she heard Kal's words.
The Kingslayer had never considered the situation in such depth.
He had thought that if their secret was ever exposed, it would lead to something terrible.
But what he hadn't expected—was that, in Kal's eyes, all of this seemed anticipated.
Maybe even...
But he didn't believe it.
Or perhaps—he didn't dare believe it.
"Someone is trying to throw everything into chaos, hoping to climb the ladder in the confusion."
"Maybe, if you actually step forward, you might even dissolve the very disaster they're counting on!"
"The plots aimed at House Lannister will crumble on their own—"
"It's been too long, Ser Jaime. Winter is nearly here."
"And just as the words of this land have always warned..."
"Winter is coming!"
Kal's voice was low, his tone calm and steady, as if he were telling a story.
And as his words faded, the hollow, crumbling tower was swallowed by an eerie silence, broken only by the biting wind howling through the cracks in the stonework.
That oppressive cold clung to their skin, and the color slowly drained from the faces of the Lannister twins.
Because both of them realized—
If Kal wasn't lying...
Then what awaited the Seven Kingdoms would not be just a simple baptism of iron and blood.
"Is that why Robert was so insistent on heading north to seek Eddard Stark's help?"
The thought surfaced unbidden in Jaime's mind, but he didn't dare to believe what Kal was saying.
He frowned, eyes fixed seriously on Kal's stern expression, suspecting this was more likely fearmongering and alarmism.
Yet he said nothing.
But Jaime was rational. He didn't try to pierce through that unspoken silence.
The queen, however, clearly wouldn't stay quiet.
Something had crossed her mind. That beautiful face gradually twisted with fury, and the once-empty look in her eyes—dulled by Kal's words—grew increasingly vicious.
Her golden hair was disheveled, her clothes in disarray, and driven by fear, she turned her venom on Kal.
"Lies! Deceit!!!"
"A greedy conspiracy! Shameful, vile trickery!!!"
"You filthy bastard! Don't think you can deceive me with your disgusting lies!!!"
"You really think that with this kind of scheme, you'll become Robert's heir?! I'm telling you—!"
"Never!"
"Spare me your pathetic tricks, you foolish, delusional mongrel!"
With long, slender, bone-white fingers pointed at him, Cersei shrieked at Kal, her voice sharp and shrill, her expression a mess of hysteria.
To think this lowborn bastard dared try to use mere words to get her and Jaime to confess to Robert of their own accord—Cersei's hatred only deepened.
Like a starved wolf who hadn't eaten in three days, she locked her gaze onto him with feral intensity.
Kal couldn't fathom how such venomous curses flowed so easily and fluidly from the mouth of the woman known as the most beautiful in the Seven Kingdoms.
That sweet and lovely face of hers seemed born to have nothing to do with such foul speech.
But reality had a way of mocking logic—absurd and ironic.
Prideful, willful, self-important, stupid, cruel, and quick to anger—that was the woman before him, draped in a beautiful shell.
And faced with her curses, Kal couldn't even be bothered to argue.
After all, speaking to a dying fool—a woman blind to reality—was a waste of breath.
So Kal's only response was cold and grounded in reality.
"Oh? Is that so, Your Grace?"
"Yes, maybe I am just as despicable as you say—but reality doesn't bend to foolish fantasies!"
"This is the North—not Casterly Rock in the Westerlands, and certainly not the Red Keep in King's Landing!"
"This is no lion's den. Here, it is the wolves who rule. These white mountains and black waters won't be twisted by a woman's clever tongue, and they won't grow soft at cheap performances and tears!"
As he spoke to this point, Kal deliberately paused, watching Cersei's expression grow darker with each word he uttered.
Perhaps it was fear. Terror.
Or perhaps it was the dread of what might happen next—something she could neither foresee nor resist. The queen, without even realizing it, had already been drowned in her own tears.
To Kal, her hysteria was nothing more than a futile struggle.
Lord Kal was kind at heart—he couldn't stand seeing someone die out of sheer stupidity.
So he chose to cruelly pierce through her fragile defenses.
"As the wife of the king, I imagine, Your Grace, you should know very well what kind of man King Robert is—"
"Not only did you bring him—and the realm—unspeakable shame, but even worse—"
"You hoped to see him dead, so that your so-called trueborn from that forbidden union could sit the Iron Throne?!"
"Your Grace… if you were the king, what would you do upon learning all this?!"
In that moment, time seemed to loop into a closed circle. Once again, the ruined chamber inside the broken tower fell silent.
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