"I'll arrange everything."
Tyrion looked out the window at the morning light.
"Once I've taken care of some minor matters in King's Landing, I'll come find you in Essos."
"I'll wait for you in Pentos," Lynn said, not elaborating.
There was no need for idle talk when communicating with such an intelligent person.
Tyrion tilted his head back, drained the last sip of wine from his cup, and turned to leave.
His short figure cast a long shadow in the morning sun, no longer appearing so stooped.
However, peaceful times are always fleeting.
While the people of King's Landing were still immersed in the legendary tales of the Black Knight, another undercurrent was rapidly brewing in the dark corners of the city.
"Have you heard? There's a lead on the death of Lord Jon Arryn!"
"It was the Queen who did it!"
"My Seven Gods! Is that true?"
"Absolutely true! My cousin's wife's brother works in the Red Keep, and he heard it with his own ears!"
Rumor is the most deadly poison in King's Landing.
It needs no evidence, nor logic.
It only needs a sufficiently explosive hook, whether true or false, to spread to every corner of the Seven Kingdoms within a day.
Through Greensight, Lynn learned that all of this was spread by Petyr Baelish, the former Master of Coin.
Though he had lost all his wealth, his most potent weapon was never lost.
Like a large rat hiding in a gutter, he used his expertise to drag the city into an abyss of chaos!
Ladders can lead him up, or they can lead him down.
But at this moment, he couldn't afford to think about such things... Throne Room.
The atmosphere was stifling.
Robert Baratheon sat on the grotesque Iron Throne.
His face was ashen, his corpulent body trembling slightly with rage.
At his feet knelt a multitude of nobles and ministers.
Cersei Lannister, dressed in a golden gown symbolizing the Queen's majesty, stood in the center of the hall.
Her face was pale, but her back was perfectly straight, like a proud swan.
The woman who had collapsed in despair in Maegor's Holdfast yesterday seemed to have never existed.
She coldly watched the man on the Iron Throne, whose eyes were filled with fury—the King who was her husband in name.
"I'll say it again, I did not poison Jon Arryn."
Her voice was filled with a deep-seated anger at the baseless accusation.
She feared Jon Arryn would discover her scandal, but she truly had not killed him.
"You didn't?"
Robert's roar was like thunder.
He rose from the Throne, pointing at Cersei's nose.
"All of King's Landing is saying it! Do you dare claim you didn't kill him to silence him?"
"That is slander!"
Cersei met his gaze without backing down.
"Someone is plotting behind the scenes! Trying to stir up trouble between House Baratheon and House Lannister!"
"Enough!"
Robert impatiently cut her off.
"I don't want to hear your sophistry!"
"I advise you to confess obediently, and I will grant you a more dignified death."
Cersei looked at Robert in disbelief, and after a long moment, she suddenly laughed.
"Since you deny it, then let the law decide!"
In Cersei's azure eyes, a furious flame now burned!
"I demand trial by combat!"
At these words, the entire hall was stunned!
Trial by combat was the ultimate means of completely entrusting one's fate to the judgment of the gods.
To prove one's innocence with blood and life.
However, it was not a difficult choice to make.
After all, she had no other recourse.
"Good!"
Robert, enraged, laughed instead.
"Trial by combat! I grant it!"
"Tell me, who is your champion?"
"Is it your brother Jaime?"
Robert's tone was filled with undisguised mockery.
Cersei's face instantly became incredibly grim.
Jaime... Jaime's arm was injured by Lynn during the tourney, and he couldn't even hold a sword steady now!
Grand Maester Pycelle tremblingly stepped forward.
"Your Majesty... Ser Jaime... is unwell, and I fear he cannot fight."
"What about the Mountain?"
Robert looked around.
"I remember he's also one of your House Lannister's dogs!"
A Lannister knight bravely answered.
"Your Majesty, Ser Gregor... after the tourney, he returned to Casterly Rock on Lord Tywin's orders."
The entire Throne Room fell into a deathly silence.
Cersei's two strongest fighters, one was injured, the other had left.
She was like a lioness whose teeth and claws had been removed, leaving only a heart full of rage and helplessness.
Robert looked at her distressed appearance, and some of the anger in his heart dissipated, replaced by a morbid pleasure.
"It seems the gods have abandoned you."
Robert sat back on the Throne, looking down at her.
"I give you one day, Cersei."
"After one day, if you cannot find your champion, I will personally declare you guilty."
"Then, your head will hang on the walls of Maegor's Holdfast along with the heads of traitors."
Having said that, he waved his hand in disgust.
"All of you, get out! Get out!"
...Everyone rushed out of the Throne Room as if fleeing a plague.
In an instant, in the empty hall, only three people remained.
King Robert, Hand of the King Ned, and Lynn, who had been specially permitted to stay.
Robert picked up the wine jug and took a long, hard swig, his chest still heaving violently.
"Ned, do you see?"
"This viper! She's finally shown her true colors!"
Ned Stark's brows, however, were tightly furrowed.
He glanced at Lynn, who stood beside him with a calm expression, and hesitated to speak.
"What? Do you still want to speak for her?"
Robert noticed his expression.
"Your Majesty."
Ned finally spoke, his voice heavy.
"This matter, I fear, is not so simple."
"Not simple? What's not simple about it? The evidence is conclusive!"
"Your Majesty, whether Queen Cersei is guilty or not, we have no evidence."
Lynn spoke calmly, taking over the conversation.
"But one thing is certain."
"Once you declare the Queen guilty and execute her..."
Ned continued his analysis, following Lynn's words.
"That would mean House Baratheon would completely break with House Lannister."
"You would not only lose the treasury that maintains the kingdom's expenses."
"Moreover, Lord Tywin would never stand idly by while his daughter is executed."
"At that time, the lions of the Westerlands will undoubtedly raise a rebellion against King's Landing."
"War will be unavoidable."
Ned's voice echoed in the empty hall.
"War?"
Robert was stunned for a moment, then burst into a fit of laughter.
"War it is! Who have I ever been afraid of?"
"That Tywin is just an opportunist, a coward who only pledged allegiance after the war's outcome was clear!"
"Am I supposed to be afraid of him?"
"Your Majesty."
Lynn's gaze met Robert's directly.
"In those days, you had the elites of Storm's End, the knights of the Vale, the wolves of the North, and the trout of the Riverlands."
"And now?"
Lynn's voice was like a bucket of ice water, poured over Robert's head, which was clouded by alcohol and anger.
"You rule the Seven Kingdoms, seemingly powerful, but your foundations have long been hollowed out by House Lannister."
"The treasury is empty, and your courtiers are disloyal."
"If House Lannister raises an army, what will House Tyrell of Highgarden choose to do? Will House Martell of Dorne stand idly by?"
"Not to mention Lysa Arryn, hiding in the Eyrie, whose intentions are unclear."
Robert was not a qualified King, but he was a born warrior.
He knew better than anyone what a war engulfing the Seven Kingdoms would mean.
Corpses strewn across the fields, rivers of blood.
And the cause was merely an unconfirmed rumor.
The fury on Robert's face gradually faded.
He looked at the spot where Cersei had just stood.
In his cloudy eyes, a complex emotion, which even he had not noticed, was revealed.
He hated Cersei.
He hated her for causing the death of Jon Arryn, the former Hand of the King whom he regarded as a father.
But when he truly had to personally send this woman to the executioner's block and thereby provoke a bloody civil war, he hesitated.
Could it be... that she was truly innocent?
Once this thought arose, it could no longer be suppressed.
But Robert was King.
He had already spoken his final words in front of everyone.
Now, to make him retract his command was harder than killing him.
"Damn it!"
Robert slammed the wine jug in his hand onto the ground.
"This cursed Iron Throne! This cursed King's Landing!"
He paced back and forth in the hall like a frantic wild boar trapped in a cage.
Ned looked at the King, who was in a dilemma, and for a moment, he didn't know what to do.
Lynn, however, simply watched everything quietly.
Littlefinger's move was both foolish and ruthless.
He thought it would make the lion and the stag fight each other.
But he didn't realize that this instead gave Lynn an excellent opportunity to completely subdue Cersei, and even intervene in the affairs of House Lannister.
As long as Cersei wasn't foolish, her only way out now was to seek his help.
Lynn looked at the gloomy sky outside the Throne Room.
He was looking forward to it.
He was looking forward to seeing how that proud golden lioness would kneel at his feet tonight.
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