The night steeped King's Landing in a false tranquility.
Maegor's Holdfast, that sturdy fortress, now felt like Cersei Lannister's tomb.
When Ser Lynn pushed open the heavy oak door, Cersei was sitting at her vanity.
She had changed into a scarlet silk nightgown, her golden hair meticulously combed, and her face even adorned with delicate makeup.
It was as if the distraught woman from the afternoon had been merely an illusion.
She watched Lynn in the mirror, her sapphire eyes devoid of anger or fear, holding only a dead stillness.
"You've come."
Her voice was calm, as if stating a fact unrelated to herself.
Lynn closed the door, the click of the bolt echoing sharply in the silent room.
He said nothing, simply walked to the table and poured himself a drink.
"Have you made up your mind?"
Lynn's voice broke the silence.
Cersei did not answer, slowly rising to her feet.
The scarlet nightgown outlined her still graceful figure in the candlelight.
She walked towards Lynn, step by step, chin held high, like a peacock about to walk onto the altar.
"I am the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, the daughter of Tywin Lannister."
She seemed to be trying to reclaim a shred of pitiful dignity in this way.
Lynn smiled.
He set down his wine glass, reached out, and lightly hooked a finger under the silk strap of her nightgown.
"Queen?"
His voice held a hint of amusement.
"A queen scorned by her husband, confined here, unable to even decide her children's marriages?"
Cersei's body stiffened abruptly.
"What do you want? Just say it."
"I want a promise."
Lynn's gaze went past her, looking at the pale moon outside the window.
"I want Myrcella."
Cersei's pupils contracted sharply, and the composure on her face finally cracked.
"You wish!"
She instinctively shrieked.
Myrcella, her delicate golden rose.
She would never allow anyone to touch her!
"I'm not negotiating with you."
Lynn turned, his dark eyes filled with undeniable resolve.
"You have no right to refuse."
He advanced step by step, and Cersei retreated step by step.
Until Cersei's back hit the cold wall, with nowhere left to go.
"She..."
"I know what you want to say; she will grow up."
Lynn's voice was calm and unruffled.
"By the time I return from across the Narrow Sea, it will probably be three years from now, and she will be of marrying age."
"I need a woman with Baratheon blood to solidify my position."
"Even if her bloodline has nothing to do with Baratheon, merely nominally is fine."
Lynn didn't even bother to use words like "love" or "like" to disguise it.
It was a naked transaction, a naked exploitation.
"Why don't you marry that wild girl from House Stark?"
Cersei shrieked.
"Aren't you on very good terms with them!"
"Arya is my woman, but that's a different matter from a political marriage."
Lynn's tone was as if he were discussing the weather.
"Marrying Arya makes me Stark's son-in-law."
"But marrying Myrcella makes me the King's son-in-law."
"You..." Cersei pointed at Lynn, stunned by his bold and unreasonable actions.
"Moreover, a mother's promise is far more trustworthy than a queen's promise."
Lynn reached out, gently caressing Cersei's cheek, which trembled slightly with anger.
"Agree to this, Cersei."
Cersei closed her eyes, and two lines of hot tears finally fell uncontrollably.
She knew she had no choice.
But she still gritted her teeth and insisted.
"No, Myrcella is out of the question!"
"But you can do whatever you want with me."
She squeezed out these words through gritted teeth.
Each word seemed to drain all her strength.
Since she had said as much, Lynn said nothing further.
The next second, he scooped Cersei up by the waist and walked towards the luxurious bed draped in velvet.
"Not now!"
Cersei finally began to struggle, like a butterfly caught in a spiderweb.
"I'm not ready..."
"I am the Queen!"
"You wolf cub from the North, let go of me!"
Lynn roughly threw Cersei onto the soft bed, then looked down at her.
His gaze was not like looking at a woman, but merely examining a piece of his spoils.
"I told you, what I want is your submission."
Lynn's voice carried a chill that made Cersei's soul tremble.
"Complete and utter submission, from body to soul."
"Missing one is not enough to prove it."
Lynn leaned down and whispered into the ear of the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms.
"From today on, your body belongs only to me."
"I may never touch you again, or even bother to look at you."
"But, without my permission, no one else can touch you."
"You are still the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, but first, you are my private property."
"Remember your place."
...When Lynn emerged from Maegor's Holdfast, a hint of dawn was already breaking in the sky.
The Gold Cloaks still stood faithfully outside.
Upon seeing Lynn, they all knelt on one knee.
These Gold Cloaks were all Guards from the North, trustworthy.
Lynn did not look back at the splendid cage.
He simply walked towards his own residence.
Inside the residence, Arya had long since fallen asleep, slumped over a mountain of ledgers, a trace of drool at the corner of her mouth.
She was naturally restless, so achieving this was truly difficult for her.
Sansa sat on a distant chair, staring blankly at the sky, lost in thought.
Clearly, she had been awake all night.
Seeing Lynn return, she quickly stood up, her blue eyes filled with complex emotions.
"Ser Lynn... you..."
"It's nothing, go back to sleep."
Lynn offered no further explanation, simply walked directly to the study.
Sansa watched his retreating figure, opened her mouth, but ultimately said nothing.
She just clutched the warm clothes in her arms more tightly.
In the study, a raven from the North was pacing uneasily.
Lynn untied the scroll from its leg and unfolded the familiar parchment.
It was Robb Stark's handwriting.
But the words were full of exasperation and despair.
"Lynn! You bastard!"
"What kind of monster did you leave behind!"
"You call that thing a dragon? I call it a bottomless pit!"
"It's a greedy fellow!"
"It's only been a month! It's already grown to nearly four meters! Almost as big as an ice elephant!"
"Do you know what it ate yesterday? Three sheep! A full three! Plus two bowls of berries! Maester Luwin says its appetite is still increasing!"
"Winterfell's sheep are almost all eaten! The smoked meat in the storeroom is also running low! I'm even starting to consider taking it to the Twins and letting it taste the Frey family's cattle and sheep!"
"Seriously, if you don't send money back soon, I'll have no choice but to let it loose in the Wolfswood to fend for itself!"
At the end of the letter, in another childish hand, there was a simple drawing of a mini-dragon, clawing and breathing fire, with two wobbly words beside it.
It was Rickon.
A faint smile finally appeared on Lynn's face.
Four meters... truly a magical creature.
This growth rate far exceeded his expectations.
He went from Castle Black to Winterfell, and then from Winterfell to King's Landing.
In less than two short months, it had already grown so large.
By the time he left King's Landing and returned to Winterfell, another month would have passed.
By then, Winter would probably have grown into a true war beast.
At that time, flying across the Narrow Sea on a giant dragon... that scene would certainly be interesting.
As Lynn was deep in thought, the butler, Robb, gently knocked on the door.
"My lord, a guest wishes to see you."
"Not seeing anyone."
Lynn just wanted to get some rest now.
"But... he is Tyrion Lannister."
Lynn's movements paused.
The Little Demon?
What was he doing here?
"Let him in."
A moment later, a small figure appeared at the study door.
Tyrion Lannister, dressed in a well-tailored dark red velvet coat, wore a cynical smile on his face.
His heterochromatic eyes, one green and one black, curiously observed Lynn and the study that had recently changed hands.
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