Ned left the Maester's Tower with a heavy heart, preparing to return to the Hand's Tower.
There were still matters related to the tourney that awaited his attention.
He held the thick book in one hand and walked slowly through the courtyard.
Along the way, whether it was imagination or not, he felt as though someone was watching him at every moment.
As his gaze shifted, the servants pretending to sweep the ground and the gardeners trimming the hedges all looked away at the same time.
Ned snorted softly. "Hmph. That eunuch again, and the queen's eyes."
Irritation rising, he quickened his pace toward the Hand's Tower.
But just as he was about to turn a corner, mocking laughter suddenly came from the other side of the wall.
"You dare try to curry favor with the prince. You've got some nerve."
"Exactly. No sense of propriety at all."
"A mere Mudden, and you think you can cling to a prince?"
After the snickering came the sound of heavy kicks, followed by a pained cry. Ned could not restrain himself any longer and stepped out directly.
In the corner, three tall squires were bullying a thin, scrawny one.
"What do you think you are doing?" Ned barked coldly, his authoritative gaze sweeping over them.
At a glance, he recognized the three taller squires as men of House Lannister.
"N-no, nothing, Lord Hand."
"W-we were just… Hugherman wasn't careful with his work, so we were… disciplining him. Teaching him."
One of the Lannister squires stammered.
Disgust flashed in Ned's eyes.
If not for his pressing duties, he would have summoned the Master of the Household and had them punished severely.
Now, he could only snort and drive the Lannisters away.
Once the three had left, Ned glanced at the squire lying on the ground, the one called Hugherman.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
Hugherman Mudden struggled to his feet and replied softly, "I'm fine, Lord Hand."
Ned noticed the injury to his arm. After a moment's thought, his expression softened with kindness.
"Go have someone tend to that wound. Rest for a few days. Tell the steward it was by my order."
"Yes, Lord Hand."
Hugherman looked up, gratitude filling his timid eyes.
Ned nodded and did not linger, stepping past Hugherman and continuing toward the Hand's Tower.
What he did not know was that Hugherman remained standing there, clutching his arm and watching Ned until his figure disappeared.
"The Lord Hand truly is a good man," he murmured.
"I hope one day I can serve under him…"
Hugherman gazed toward the Hand's Tower with admiration, then limped back to his quarters.
On the other side, when Ned returned to the Hand's Tower, Littlefinger was already waiting for him.
"Lord Baelish, what brings you here? Has something gone wrong with the tourney again?" Ned asked, handing the book to his steward and looking at Littlefinger with confusion.
Littlefinger shook his head, glanced around, and lowered his voice. "My lord, could we speak somewhere private?"
Seeing this, Ned's heart stirred. He led Littlefinger to a secluded, deserted corner.
"You can speak freely now."
Littlefinger smiled faintly. "It concerns Lord Arryn."
He paused, then met Ned's eager gaze. "Since I promised Lady Catelyn, I naturally keep my word."
"Lord Hand, after several days of inquiry, I found that although Lady Lysa took most of House Arryn back with her, a few people remained in King's Landing…"
Littlefinger carefully relayed the information he had prepared.
As he listened, the wariness in Ned's eyes gradually faded.
"Take me to see them at once," Ned said eagerly.
Littlefinger raised a hand to stop him. "Lord Hand, there are too many eyes about right now. It would be better to wait until later. I will take you then."
Ned froze, realizing he had been too hasty.
"Very well."
He replied, his attitude toward Littlefinger softening slightly.
In truth, if not for Catelyn's sake, Ned would not have wished to deal with Littlefinger at all.
In his eyes, someone so skilled in schemes was not trustworthy.
Yet during these days in King's Landing, only Littlefinger had genuinely helped him handle so many matters.
Gradually, Ned's guard against him loosened.
So much so that while busy preparing for the tourney, Ned even revealed his intention to reform the City Watch.
Littlefinger verbally advised caution, but at the same time subtly hinted at the deep corruption within the Gold Cloaks.
After some thought, Ned decided to have Littlefinger gather evidence.
In the days that followed, Ned moved tirelessly throughout King's Landing. He investigated Arryn's death while also preparing for the tourney.
Following the clues he uncovered, he successively met Gendry Baratheon.
By the time the tourney was successfully held, Ned had begun to grasp why Jon Arryn had gone to see Gendry.
The answer filled him with dread.
What he did not expect was that on the fourth day after the tourney ended, his wife Catelyn would deliver him yet another heavy blow.
.....
North of a tributary of the Trident.
At dusk, the fading glow of the setting sun slowly disappeared.
All along the way, Catelyn had traveled with great discretion to avoid drawing attention.
Now, accompanied by Ser Rodrik, she arrived at a familiar inn from years past.
Though the innkeeper was now so aged that she barely resembled Catelyn's memory, Catelyn still felt a trace of warmth.
This place was only a few days' journey from Moat Cailin.
Once she reached Moat Cailin, Catelyn could reveal her identity and quickly return to Winterfell.
After speaking with the innkeeper, Ser Rodrik secured the last two rooms. They rested briefly upstairs, then went down to the common hall for supper.
The inn bustled with travelers, many wearing house sigils that Catelyn recognized at a glance.
Most were nobles of the Riverlands, sworn to Riverrun.
At least in name.
House Tully's rule over the Riverlands was far from secure, and some houses had long been at odds with Riverrun.
For example, the Freys seated on the right side of the inn.
"The late Lord Frey," Catelyn thought.
She cast a glance their way, then carefully lowered her head, afraid that someone among the twenty or so Freys might recognize her.
But what one fears often comes to pass.
Just as Catelyn finished her meal and prepared to go upstairs, a commotion suddenly erupted outside the inn.
Moments later, a group entered.
At their head was a dwarf with a lion embroidered on his chest.
It was none other than Tyrion Lannister.
And at a glance, he recognized Catelyn, who was about to go upstairs. On impulse, for reasons even he might not have understood, Tyrion greeted her.
"Lady Catelyn. What a coincidence. I never expected to meet you here."
The moment the words left his mouth, the inn fell silent.
All eyes turned to Catelyn, and almost everyone recognized her at once.
In that instant, Catelyn's mind held only one thought. The Imp must be in league with his brother and sister. He must have been involved in the attempt on Bran's life.
Unable to restrain her emotions, Catelyn looked around and called upon the Riverlands nobles in the common hall.
In an instant, Tyrion Lannister became a prisoner.
Catelyn had no intention of staying the night any longer. She gathered men and left the inn at once.
After she departed, news of the Imp being taken by Catelyn spread in all directions.
By the time Galon at Deepwood Motte learned of it, half a month had already passed.
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