Highgarden's Little Rose, with a heart full of doubt and a faint, sweet fragrance, disappeared down the corridor.
Lynn returned to the window, the night breeze caressing his cheek, a warm and fleeting touch, like an unreal dream.
He had to admit, Margaery Tyrell was an extremely charming woman.
She was clever, and understood how to size up a situation.
She also knew when to show her fangs and when to retract her claws.
Working with her would undoubtedly be a pleasant experience.
However, he seemed to have met a few too many women tonight.
Lynn rubbed his brow, and just as he was about to close the window, a hesitant knock sounded.
Knock, knock.
The sound paused, as if debating whether to continue.
Knock.
Lynn's movements stopped.
He was very familiar with that sound.
"Come in, Sansa."
The door was gently pushed open a crack, and a reddish-brown head peeked in.
Seeing Lynn looking at her, Sansa Stark was visibly nervous.
Her fingers tightened slightly on the doorframe, but she still gathered her courage and walked in, then carefully closed the door.
She had changed.
This was Lynn's first impression upon seeing her again.
The young girl before him still wore an exquisitely crafted long dress, her beautiful reddish-brown hair neatly styled, like the shimmering waves of the Riverlands under the sun.
But the innocence and unrealistic fantasies of a little girl that she once possessed seemed to have been largely worn away by the cruel reality of King's Landing.
Her posture no longer carried that hint of timid flattery as before, but rather a newfound calmness.
Her blue eyes, too, were like polished gems; though still clear, they no longer held the naivety of one unfamiliar with the world, but instead had accumulated something unfathomable.
"Lord Lynn."
Sansa curtsied impeccably to Lynn.
Her voice was soft, but no longer carried the deliberate eagerness of the past.
"So late, and you're still awake?"
Lynn's tone was gentle.
"I couldn't sleep."
Sansa shook her head, her gaze resting on Lynn, with a hint of cautious inquiry.
"I heard... about what happened in the Throne Room today."
"Father is very worried about you."
She didn't say she was worried, but instead brought up Ned.
It seemed King's Landing, this great dyeing vat, was indeed the best teacher.
It taught this little bird, who once only sang in a cage, how to protect herself in the cruelest way.
"I've caused your father worry."
Lynn walked to the table and poured her a glass of water.
"However, everything is over now."
"Mm."
Sansa took the glass, which greatly calmed her anxious heart.
She didn't drink immediately, but just held the cup in silence for a moment.
The atmosphere in the room was quiet for a while.
Sansa's gaze inadvertently swept across the room; she could smell a faint floral scent, not belonging there, lingering in the air.
It was very sweet, like some kind of southern flower.
Her heart was inexplicably pricked.
It seemed another woman had been here... "I... I came to congratulate you, Lord Lynn."
Sansa finally gathered her courage to look up and meet Lynn's gaze.
"Congratulations on your upcoming marriage to Princess Myrcella."
Her voice was very soft, every word spoken clearly and precisely, as if reciting a pre-prepared line.
"This is hardly a joyous occasion."
Lynn shook his head.
"It's just a transaction."
"But... but she's a princess."
Sansa's lips moved.
"And you will become her husband."
Lynn looked at her, at her blue eyes that tried to maintain composure but still revealed a hint of grievance, and understood.
"Sansa."
Lynn's voice softened a few shades.
"His Majesty the King's decree, I cannot refuse."
"I know."
Sansa lowered her head, looking at the water swirling in the cup.
"I just... I was just thinking..."
Her voice grew softer and softer, as if she were talking to herself.
"Originally, Father also suggested to His Majesty the King to annul my engagement to Prince Joffrey..."
"But His Majesty... he disagreed."
"He said that the union between House Baratheon and House Stark was the cornerstone of peace in Westeros, not to be changed."
"But now..."
Sansa suddenly looked up, and in her blue eyes, a flame of hope ignited, its light so bright that it brought her face to life.
"Now you are marrying Princess Myrcella, which is also a union between House Baratheon and the North."
"Then... then my engagement to Prince Joffrey, is it... is it no longer so important?"
Sansa finally revealed the true purpose of her visit tonight.
She had come seeking an answer.
An answer that could free her from her nightmare.
Lynn looked at her, at her face, slightly flushed with excitement and full of anticipation, and couldn't help but feel a hint of approval.
She was no longer the little girl who would only cry and seek help from her father and the Septa.
She had learned to think, to find a ray of hope for herself in complex political marriages.
"You're right, Sansa."
Lynn gave her the answer she most wanted to hear.
"A marriage alliance is to solidify an alliance."
"But two alliances with the same purpose become somewhat redundant, and can even be counterproductive."
"Your engagement is indeed no longer as unbreakable as it once was."
Sansa's eyes suddenly lit up!
Immense joy instantly overwhelmed her, making her almost want to jump up.
Was she really going to be free?
She could finally escape that prince who was outwardly golden but inwardly rotten, who only used lies and cruelty to mask his cowardice!
She wouldn't have to marry Joffrey!
"That's wonderful..."
Sansa murmured, her eyes stinging, tears almost falling.
But she forcibly held them back.
She bit her lip hard, suppressing the surge of excitement.
She couldn't cry.
In front of Lynn, she didn't want to show her weak side again.
She looked at Lynn, at this man who, when everyone else was helpless, always managed to create miracles.
From the earth-shattering joust at the tourney, to teaching her how to handle business hands-on, to his eloquent speech that turned the tide before the iron throne today.
He was like the most perfect hero in a bard's song.
Powerful, wise, and... gentle.
Sansa's heart beat fast, and her cheeks grew hotter and hotter.
She knew she shouldn't have such thoughts.
She was the eldest daughter of the Lord of the North; she should be modest, she should be dignified.
But she couldn't control herself.
Especially when Lynn approached her, his tall figure completely enveloping her.
When the scent, a mixture of the night wind and his unique aroma, entered her nostrils, Sansa felt her head spin slightly.
"To annul an engagement, reasons alone are not enough."
Lynn's voice pulled her back from her reverie.
"You also need a suitable moment, and an undeniable excuse."
"Moment? Excuse?"
Sansa was a little confused.
"Yes."
Lynn nodded.
"Seven days from now, after the duel is over and Petyr Baelish's guilt is fully established, His Majesty the King's mood will reach its peak."
"That will be when he is happiest, and most generous."
"At that time, go to your father, and have him, in his capacity as Hand, request it from His Majesty the King using the argument I just taught you."
"Tell him that since the North is already firmly bound to the royal family through my marriage to Myrcella,"
"Then, to show respect for House Baratheon, House Stark is willing to voluntarily give up the engagement with the Prince, to allow for a deeper union between House Baratheon and other families."
"His Majesty the King will not miss this opportunity."
Sansa listened, dumbfounded.
She had never imagined that something she considered incredibly complex and difficult could become so simple, so logical, when explained by Lynn.
She could even imagine how pleased King Robert would be when her father spoke those words.
Using Myrcella to win over the North.
This way, Joffrey could be used to win over other families.
This was simply a perfect plan that no one could refuse!
"I... I understand."
Sansa nodded vigorously.
She felt she had learned more tonight than in all her previous years combined.
"Thank you, Lord Lynn."
Sansa said sincerely.
She looked into Lynn's eyes, her blue gaze filled with undisguised gratitude and admiration.
"This is just the beginning, Sansa."
Lynn looked at her face, radiant with excitement, and suddenly spoke.
"What?" Sansa was startled.
"Getting rid of Joffrey is just your first step."
Lynn's gaze deepened.
"I have prepared a bigger stage for you."
"A stage grand enough to make all of King's Landing turn its eyes to you."
A bigger stage?
Sansa's heart gave a sudden leap.
She thought of the queens in the songs, of the noblewomen who were the center of attention at grand banquets.
Could it be... "Sansa, do you want to become the most powerful person in King's Landing, besides His Majesty the King?"
Lynn's voice was like a magical hook, each word striking her heart.
The most powerful person?
Sansa's mind was blank.
She had never considered this question.
In her past understanding, wasn't the most powerful woman Queen Cersei?
But even as queen, Cersei was merely a puppet on the surface.
Even her sworn sword, the Mountain, only obeyed Tywin's orders and paid no heed to Cersei.
She had heard all about what happened in the Throne Room.
Could it be that a woman could also become the most powerful person?
"No, not the Queen."
Lynn seemed to read Sansa's thoughts and shook his head.
"The Queen relies on the King's favor, and on the support of the Lannisters behind her."
"Her power is superficial; it can be withdrawn at any moment."
Lynn's gaze was intense as he slowly spoke to Sansa.
"The one who truly holds power is the one who can decide the flow of every golden dragon in the kingdom."
"It is the one who can ensure the King's army has money to fight, and the nobles' castles have wine to drink."
"It is the master of coin."
Sansa's breathing hitched.
She felt her heart was about to burst from her chest.
Lynn... what on earth was Lynn talking about?
"Petyr Baelish's position will soon be vacant."
Lynn's voice was like a devil's whisper, resounding in Sansa's ears, making all her blood boil in an instant.
"Sansa."
"I want you to sit in that chair."
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