chapter 126 part 1
Chapter 126: I Hate Her
Crackclaw Point.
Southeast of The Whispers, about two miles away, was Lyanna Manor, gifted by Glynn to his cousin, Lyanna Crabbe.
Lyanna Manor was situated amidst green fields, surrounded by rolling hills that formed a natural barrier. Near the manor lay a forest, serving as a natural hunting ground.
Under the supervision of an architect from The Reach, the main structure of the manor had already taken rough shape.
Amidst the verdant forest, Yuria couldn't help but exclaim, "Lady Lyanna, are you... pregnant?"
Yuria wore a light blue, off-the-shoulder gown, her dark brown hair falling naturally over her shoulders.
Her eyes were wide, her body somewhat stiff, as she stared blankly at Lyanna.
Lyanna nodded silently, an imperceptible bitterness hidden on her face.
Dik had been sent by Glynn to Essos, while Yuria remained in The Whispers. Lyanna's manor was still under construction, and the two young women, close in age, often kept each other company in the spacious castle.
The sun was pleasant that day, and the two were strolling in the woods. Yuria had just received this rather startling news.
Yuria's first thought was to escape the situation. Dik, her brother, was still 'risking his life' outside for her sake, and she truly dared not cause any trouble.
But the Lyanna Crabbe before her, this seemingly simple lady in her eyes, was the cousin of the lord of this land.
Yuria closed her eyes in distress, and after a long moment, opened them again.
Yuria took a breath, her voice very gentle, "Lady Lyanna, how do you plan to handle this?"
She gritted her teeth, then whispered, "I can get you moon tea."
At the mention of moon tea, Lyanna's face paled in alarm, and she instinctively covered her belly with her hand.
Lyanna quickly shook her head, "No, I can't..."
Yuria reached out and took one of Lyanna's hands, comforting her first, "Lady Lyanna, I only wish to help you. Here, no one can force you to do something against your will."
Seeing Lyanna's emotions stabilize somewhat, she added, "Except for Lord Glynn!"
At Glynn's name, Lyanna looked at Yuria, her beautiful eyes glistening with tears. "Yuria, what should I do?"
Lyanna's fingers trembled slightly from tension, and her pale face showed a look of anxiety and helplessness.
...
...
King's Landing.
"Apples, fine apples! Even if the price were twice as high, you'd still find them a bargain!"
"Come buy sweet melons, as sweet as honey!"
"Cabbages, onions, potatoes! Come, come, come! Cabbages, onions, potatoes! Come, come, come!"
Glynn, flanked by his guards, rode through the bustling city district. Along the way, a jester on stilts strode through the crowd like a giant monster, followed by a throng of barefoot children shrieking. On another side, two ragged boys were sparring with wooden sticks when an old woman leaned out an upper window and poured a bucket of foot-washing water over their heads, ending the fight.
Turning into the Street of Steel, he rode along the winding path up Visenya's Hill, passing by blacksmiths toiling before their forges, sellswords bargaining for shield-plate, and grizzled ironmongers peddling various old, rusted iron wares from their carts. The vast majority of King's Landing's blacksmiths gathered here.
Glynn and his retinue rode directly to the hilltop, where they reined in their horses before a massive house built of timber and plaster.
The house's two grand doors were made of ebony and weirwood, carved with a hunting scene. A pair of stone knights guarded either side of the entrance, draped in fantastical red steel armor shaped like griffins and unicorns.
Glynn dismounted, handed the reins to Marwyn Beck, and led Monton Waters into the house.
The middle-aged man glanced at the sigil on Glynn, then hurried forward, a smile plastered on his face. "My lord, Tobho Mott awaits your command."
Tobho Mott wore a black velvet coat, with iron hammer patterns embroidered in silver thread on his sleeves. Around his neck hung a heavy silver chain, its blue sapphire as large as a pigeon's egg.
Tobho Mott was very enthusiastic. "If you need new armor, you've come to the right place."
"My lord," he said, "my work comes at a high price, I admit that myself. But I dare assure you that throughout the Seven Kingdoms, you won't find anyone whose craftsmanship can compare to mine. If you don't believe me, you're welcome to visit every forge in King's Landing and compare for yourself."
He continued, "Truth be told, any country blacksmith can make a piece of armor. But what I forge are works of art. You must have seen the armor of the Knight of Flowers and Lord Renly; their full sets of armor were purchased from me."
Glynn nodded slightly, pointed at Monton, and said, "How is his armor coming along? Take me to see it."
Tobho made a gesture to invite them in. "His armor will be complete in about another month. The major components are mostly finished, though it still needs detailed polishing, of course."
Tobho led Glynn through a narrow courtyard to the room where armor was forged.
The temperature inside the room was high; every corner held a blazing forge, and the air was thick with the smell of smoke and sulfur.
Seeing Tobho bring in strangers, the blacksmiths merely cast a quick glance, wiped the sweat from their brows, and continued to wield their hammers and tongs. The bare-chested apprentices diligently pumped the bellows.
Tobho called over a tall young man whose arms and chest were solid with muscle.
"This is Gendry. Don't let his youth fool you; his craftsmanship is excellent, and he works diligently." Turning to the young man, he added, "Lad, show the noble lord the armor you've finished."
Gendry's brooding blue eyes glanced at the mild-mannered Glynn. He pushed back his sweat-soaked hair and said to Tobho, "Only the helmet is polished."
Without waiting for a reply, he walked to the back and, after a moment, returned with a bucket-shaped silver helmet.
Glynn took it, first testing its weight, then examining it.
Compared to an ordinary helmet, its thickness was at least half again as much. Though simple in design, it felt expertly crafted the moment he took it in hand.
Glynn handed the helmet to Monton, who had been watching eagerly.
Glynn clapped Gendry's arm and praised, "Gendry, your craftsmanship is excellent."
Gendry's hair was thick and coarse, a wild, inky black tangle.
Black stubble had just begun to sprout on his chin, and his face held a shy expression, his lips trembling slightly.
Tobho spoke up. "My lord, please forgive him. The lad is very tongue-tied; he only knows how to forge iron!"
Glynn smiled and shook his head, patted Gendry once more, then left the hot room.
Once outside, Glynn commissioned a set of armor from Tobho.
Glynn's ancestral armor was too plain in design. He wanted to prepare a magnificent set of armor in advance for the upcoming tourney.
After noting the requirements, Tobho grinned as he accepted a bag of gold dragons. He clapped his chest, assuring Glynn that the armor he forged would surely satisfy him.
...
That night, the old blacksmith called Gendry into the room.
Tobho, flushed in the face, had already drunk a fair bit. He picked up a wine cup and filled it. "Lad, a blacksmith can't live without wine."
With that, he pushed the wine cup across the table towards Gendry.
Gendry picked up the cup and drank it in one gulp. Tobho let out a hearty laugh.
Once his laughter subsided, his tone turned serious. "Do you remember the young noble in the blue cloak who visited today?"
Gendry wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand and nodded.