"Tick!" "Tick!" "Tick!"
The sound of dripping water echoed softly in the empty room, along with the falling sand in the hourglass.
In a room somewhere in The Eyrie, Anguy placed a blue crystal hourglass filled with white sand before a bloody, bound Petyr, just like the blue and white colors of House Arryn.
The sand fell, like time slipping through fingers, and Petyr could feel his life fading away bit by bit.
The former master of coin, Petyr Baelish's lips were dry from dehydration, his face ashen and haggard. Beneath his hastily changed ornate clothes, one could still occasionally see multiple puncture wounds and abrasions, marks of fists, Longspears, sword scabbards, and whips. The taxi soldiers of Gulltown, the taxi soldiers of House Arryn, had dealt heavy blows to the traitors.
"Your time is running out, Lord Petyr. This is your final moment," Anguy said to Petyr. After this hourglass, Petyr and Lysa would be executed together. On the table was a glass of wine, a vintage from Arbor, with the taste of oak, fruit, and midsummer, but now it represented death.
"The Storm, I want to see The Storm," Petyr said, his eyes vacant. He felt as light as a feather, merely heading towards the end of his life.
"You want to see Prince Gendry? You?" Anguy looked at Littlefinger Petyr and said disdainfully.
"A list, I can give him a list, the names he wants to know," Petyr looked at Anguy, the young man with fiery red hair. He was The Storm's Attendant and could relay his message.
"Oh, but what value do you still have? All your subordinates in Gulltown, the customs officers, brothel owners, granary owners, have already been executed by House Grafton. Their wealth, your wealth, has now all been confiscated."
"I have connections Across the Narrow Sea, in Braavos, Pentos. Even in Qarth and Lys. They, they will come to save me."
"Don't be foolish," Anguy looked at this madman. "Your subordinates have confessed everything clearly, and the Sealord of Braavos is now ailing, and the situation in Braavos is not peaceful."
"And, and…" Petyr pleaded. "I can reveal those names, names that even Earl Gero Grafton and the golden eagle don't know."
"I'll call the Lord, you keep an eye on him," Anguy said to the Gold Cloaks in the room, then walked out. The Lord was right, it seems that before his death, Littlefinger really wanted to reveal something.
A moment later, Gendry entered the room and looked at the dying Littlefinger. Petyr was certainly going to die, but he wondered what sweet words he would use to delude himself.
"You are truly cruel, Prince Gendry. No, you are a King who toys with the world in his palm," Petyr looked at Gendry, not with curses or pleas. "You killed his mother and good uncle in front of the Child."
"Sweet Robin is already asleep, Petyr. As for you, no one would have known that after the master of coin's disguise, you were also a master of poisons," Gendry replied. Lulling a Child to sleep was indeed troublesome, but Sweet Robin had flown continuously in his palm for a while, and with more physical exertion, he would fall asleep faster. There was a bloody execution today, not suitable for a Child to witness.
"Poison is the weapon of cowards, eunuchs, and women. I am a coward. Since others look down on me, then poison is my best weapon. It was so for Jon Arryn, and it is so for Robert Arryn," Petyr gave a miserable smile, admitting that he taught Lysa to poison Lord Jon and used sweetsleep to put Sweet Robin to sleep.
"I have lost, completely lost. I request paper and a pen," Petyr said. "My last wish."
"You want to write a letter to someone?"
"No," Petyr shook his head, his grey-green eyes filled with pain. "I will not write to Catelyn. For a woman to see a man in such a desperate and pathetic state is a man's greatest failure. It was so many years ago, and it is so today. My list is for you."
"That's interesting, write it," Anguy placed the pen and paper in front of Petyr. Only the hand holding the pen trembled.
"These are my previous networks: intelligence, money, King's Landing, the Vale, Across the Narrow Sea. And some wealth I hid elsewhere, the Iron Bank, trading companies. Do not, do not let them go," Petyr wiped his bloody fingers across the paper, a faint smile still on his face, a final sarcastic smile.
"There are Magistrates and great merchants from the Free Cities, and your smuggling fleet's island. Your network is very extensive," Gendry put away this blood-written document, but showed no intention of acting yet.
"This world turned me into a whore, so I will turn this world into a grand brothel," Petyr gave a tragic smile, but the smile tugged at his wounds, and he spat out a large mouthful of blood. Even without the death penalty, days of travel and violent beatings had slowly drained his vitality.
"Will you act?" Petyr asked. Fingers Peninsula, his hometown, but he could never return.
"It's simple. Pretend not to know, and wait and see. If they remain loyal, then this list doesn't exist. If they are unwilling to be loyal, then I will naturally send them to meet you."
"To thank you for your hospitality before my death. Beware of your greatest enemies, Varys and Braavos," Petyr said. "To crack The Red Keep's tunnels, find the rat catchers, they are professionals. As for Braavos, you also know the Sealord's weight, the fleet, the Faceless Men."
"Power comes from bloodline, Petyr. I will thank you for your reminder," Gendry looked at Petyr, still speaking eloquently before his death.
However, this man's mind was indeed very astute. Littlefinger thought of cracking Varys's network, and he had also found an underground secret passage in The Red Keep. The Faceless Men were truly terrifying, but he had bloodline power and a magic dragon, which were his true trump cards.
"How will you deal with Varys?" Littlefinger Petyr asked Gendry. He already understood that Gendry had long listed all these people as opponents and precautions: Littlefinger, Varys, Braavos.
"Out of consideration for Varys once finding me a blacksmith's job, I will let him die quickly."
"Excellent, truly excellent. Varys is seeking his own death," Petyr thought of Varys's death, and his heart bloomed with joy. Varys was also coming soon, so Petyr would not feel lonely.
The hourglass dripped, and time was almost up.
"Very good, very good. I never thought that Robert, that Dumb Harry, would father a true King. You are, you are the King I dreamed of becoming, with strength and cunning. Only a King who is both a lion and a fox is a true King," Petyr looked at Gendry, suddenly excited. "King, King."
"Goodbye, Petyr," Gendry walked out of the room. Petyr's final moments were counting down. Petyr only wanted to be a fox, but a fox in a lion's world would eventually be hunted.
At the same moment, in a room at the farthest opposite end. The hourglass also ticked.
"Sweet Robin, I want to see Sweet Robin, he loves to cuddle with me the most," Lysa wailed.
"That's enough, Lysa, we won't let Sweet Robin see you again," Ser Brynden said. Sansa was also in the room, these were Lysa's two relatives.
When Sansa saw Lysa, she was startled. Her aunt was now a massive figure, without any of her mother's elegance.
Lysa's fluffy red hair was now dull, and her expensive velvet dress and jeweled bodice had been stripped away, making her appear even more bloated and flabby, though a short detention had made her lose a lot of weight. Her breasts were large, her limbs fat, and her height and weight exceeded Littlefinger's.
"I am the Lady, I am the Regent mother of the Duke of The Eyrie. I want to see Petyr, what have you done to him?" Lysa screamed. "Uncle, why don't you come and save us?"
"You are not," Ser Brynden's face was ashen. "Both of you will die, after the hourglass."
"This is unfair, this is unfair," Lysa cried and screamed.
"Why, why did I have to marry an Old Man, while Catelyn married Eddard Stark, a young man? I was so beautiful back then, I made Catelyn feel ashamed. But I married an Old Man, all he wanted was an army, to support his beloved Child. My father insisted on it, saying that for someone like me who had lost her virginity, marrying Jon was a great blessing.
I hate Jon, I hate my father, I also hate Cat. I never loved Jon. Half his teeth were gone, his breath smelled like rancid dry cheese. What I hated most was his smell… Petyr, his breath was so fresh and natural. Although his appearance was not outstanding, he was very good. Jon Arryn's seed was old and weak, a cold Old Man, yet he didn't give me a good Child, only Sweet Robin survived."
Ser Brynden trembled all over, wishing he could strangle his niece. Sadness and pity intertwined, this was all fate shaped by the gods above. Lysa, this Dumb Harry, and Lord Hoster too, were Dumb Harry.
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