chapter 200 part 1
Chapter 200: Blood and Fire, Same Origin 7
Petyr Baelish's smile was warm. He said softly, "Catelyn, the wind is strong here. Let's go over there and sit down to talk."
He pointed to another part of the room, where an exquisite small round table and several comfortable-looking chairs were placed.
Catelyn Stark did not refuse. As she walked, she said, "You should truly experience the cold winds of Winterfell."
Petyr's eyes shifted slightly. Watching Catelyn's back, he stroked his meticulously groomed little beard.
*Is Eddard Stark really dead?* Based on the intelligence he had gathered, it was still impossible to confirm… Because no body had been found, Petyr felt it was more accurate to say he was missing.
Petyr guessed… that "good friend" of his, so "deeply loyal," must know the answer. Or perhaps he had directly intervened from the shadows to rescue the Wolf… If he was right… Heh, what an enviably grand favor that was.
But for now, everyone assumed the Wolf had died in that riot in King's Landing, which was very good.
…
Petyr picked up a golden, jewel-encrusted flagon and, while pouring the wine, said, "Catelyn, I think your son proclaiming himself King is actually a good thing for you all."
Hearing Petyr's form of address, Catelyn Stark's brow furrowed involuntarily, but she didn't correct him again. Compared to the matter they were discussing, it was a trivial detail.
After filling the glasses, Petyr elegantly made a gesture of invitation and added, "Given the current situation, your son needs his family's support more than ever…"
He gently swirled the golden wine cup in his hand and continued, "Lysa is the lady of The Vale, but more importantly, she is your son's aunt."
With that, Petyr spread his hands and continued, "House, duty, honor. Family is certainly more reliable than outsiders."
Catelyn was very moved by his words, but her voice carried a hint of stubbornness. "Petyr, tell me, did Lysa really do that? You know what I'm talking about!"
Petyr's grey-green eyes looked directly at Catelyn. The two locked gazes for a moment, then he let out a chuckle.
Seeing Catelyn was about to lose her temper, Petyr explained, "Why do I feel like I'm more of a member of House Tully, while you… have become a stubborn Stark?"
"What do you mean?"
Petyr sighed, his eyes gazing out the window, his expression tinged with pity. "Catelyn, let's put the matter of Jon Arryn aside for a moment… We both know Lysa has had a very hard life since her marriage. We both remember how she used to be. Who do you think is the direct culprit… for turning Lysa into the person she is today?"
Petyr turned his face back to Catelyn. "Wasn't it Jon Arryn himself who caused all of this?"
He had admitted it! Lysa had really poisoned her own husband with her own hands! Catelyn's heart skipped a beat. She picked up her wine cup with a trembling hand, trying to hide her current panic by drinking.
Petyr's eyes shifted slightly, and the corner of his mouth curved up imperceptibly.
He spoke slowly, "I will help you persuade Lysa to have The Vale swear fealty to the King in the North."
Could Lysa still represent the entire Vale? No, she couldn't. The Alliance of the Vale would not recognize her right to rule.
What was Petyr's objective? His objective was to use external forces to dismantle the Alliance of the Vale.
Petyr spoke with a smile, his tone almost teasing, "Surely you don't want to personally send your own sister to the executioner's block, do you? For that dead Jon?"
Catelyn suddenly fixed her gaze on Petyr and said, "Littlefinger, what do you want?"
Petyr answered Catelyn's question very quickly, as if he had prepared the answer long ago.
"The peace of The Vale."
Catelyn took a sip from her cup, her eyes filled with mockery. "Petyr, we know each other too well. I hope you'll tell me the truth."
Petyr showed the unease of someone whose inner thoughts had been seen through at a glance. He scratched his head, just as he did when he was a boy.
Catelyn's lips curled into a cold smile as she pressed, "Tell me the answer."
In Catelyn's eyes, Petyr was forcing himself to remain calm. His lips moved, he took a breath, and then spoke, "I think… the Stark King will need a Hand of the King."
After speaking, Petyr had already returned to his usual elegant demeanor.
He murmured helplessly, "You really haven't changed. Still so sharp."
Catelyn snorted coldly and said, "Petyr, don't forget I'm the older sister who watched you grow up."
Catelyn believed she could see through Littlefinger's "schemes," but was the Littlefinger of today still the same one she thought she knew?
In fact, Petyr had already told her the real answer. What he wanted was indeed the "peace" of The Vale, not the position of Hand of the King. That was merely the answer he wanted Catelyn to arrive at on her own. His sincerity was absolute.
…
Catelyn spoke again, "Will you marry Lysa?"
"Catelyn, you know my heart…" Petyr saw Catelyn's face turn cold and cut himself off.
After a moment of silence under Catelyn's gaze, Petyr forced a bitter smile and said, "My fief is nothing but the smallest piece of rock in The Fingers. With my status… anyone can see that's impossible."
He added, "We are childhood friends. I am helping as a friend. You can think of me as a doctor who can't forget his beautiful childhood memories… Yes, a doctor helping Lysa walk out of her pain."
Catelyn couldn't help but mock him, "A doctor who helps her all the way into bed?"
Certain parts of the Eyrie produced very loud echoes. Petyr smiled and shrugged. "Perhaps you could try to pity me."
Catelyn had to admit… her sister currently lacked a bit of a woman's charm… She turned her head away and drank her wine.
Catelyn put down her wine cup, cleared her throat, and said, "What do you plan to do?"
"Although Lysa was rude to you, she needs her sister very much. I believe she will get better…"
Petyr said seriously, "Catelyn, I will do my best to persuade Lysa. Let me take your handwritten letter to meet our King in the North."
Catelyn looked at the sincere Petyr and said directly, "Petyr, I don't want to deceive you. The Hand of the King needs the King's trust, not a recommendation from the King's mother."
"I will perform well. Thank you, Catelyn."
…
Returning to his study, Petyr stood quietly for a while before walking to a bookshelf and pulling out a well-hidden letter, one sealed with golden wax.
…
…
Crackclaw Point, The Whispers, the Lord's chambers.
"Glyn…"
"Glyn…"
"Glyn…"
…