Lynn's words stirred up a storm in Sansa's heart.
master of coin?
These four words, to her, were like a story from another world.
Distant, strange, and even somewhat absurd.
Sansa's face was blank.
Her beautiful blue eyes were wide, her lips slightly parted, and she couldn't utter a single word for a long time.
She felt as if her brain was stuffed with a tangled mess, completely unable to think.
A woman could hold the position of master of coin?
"Me?"
Sansa finally found her voice.
"Lord Lynn... you... you must be joking."
She instinctively shook her head repeatedly.
As if that could negate the crazy idea.
"I don't understand anything... I can't do sums, I can't even read account books..."
"I only know how to sing, how to embroider, how to recite the Holy Books of the Seven Gods..."
Sansa's voice grew softer and softer, the confidence that Lynn had just personally built up in her wavering at this moment.
She was a Lady.
A qualified, perfect Lady.
From a young age, she had been taught how to smile, how to walk, how to please and serve her future husband, and how to manage the internal affairs of a castle.
But in all those teachings, there was never a single lesson on how to manage a kingdom's purse.
That was a domain exclusive to men, a world she could never touch.
"Who told you that a master of coin needs to be good at sums?"
Lynn's calm voice interrupted her self-negation.
He looked at Sansa, his deep eyes showing no hint of a joke.
"Sansa, does Petyr Baelish know how to do sums?"
"Of course, he does."
"He can even account for every golden dragon in the kingdom clearly, and then find a way to turn them into golden dragons in his own pocket."
Lynn walked in front of Sansa, pulled her to sit down.
"There are many kinds of power."
"Queen Cersei's power comes from her surname and the King's title."
"Lady Margaery's power comes from Highgarden's granaries and armies."
"Their power is good, but it is all dependent on others."
"When the King no longer favors Cersei, when Highgarden's army is defeated, their power will vanish into thin air."
Lynn's voice was very low, shattering all of Sansa's naive illusions about the word "power" over the past decade or so.
"But there is a kind of power that truly belongs to you."
"You don't need to understand those complex accounts; I will find you the smartest accountants in the world from the Iron Bank of Braavos, and they will handle everything."
"You don't even need to attend those long and tedious small council meetings, listening to those old men argue red-faced over a few copper coins."
Lynn's gaze locked onto Sansa, seeming to inject courage into her.
"You just need to sit there."
"Your name is Sansa Stark."
"You are the eldest daughter of the Warden of the North, the Duke of Winterfell, and the daughter of the hand of the king, the Prime Minister of the Seven Kingdoms."
"Your identity is your greatest power."
"You sitting in that position represents the will of House Stark, the will of the entire North."
"Anyone who wants to touch the kingdom's purse must have your consent."
"Anyone who dares to question you is questioning your father, questioning the entire North!"
Sansa's breathing hitched.
She felt her whole body trembling.
She had never thought that her identity, which everyone, including herself, considered a weakness, would become the most indestructible weapon in Lynn's mouth.
"And I,"
Lynn's voice was even lower, carrying an irresistible magic.
"I am the king-beyond-the-wall outside the North, and I will fully support you."
"Anyone who dares to oppose you will have to bear my wrath."
"Anyone can fall, but I will not."
"As long as I fully support you, with me as your backing, no one can do anything to you, understand, Sansa?"
That last sentence hit Sansa's heart heavily.
Her mind was buzzing.
Fear, excitement, confusion, and an unprecedented feeling filled her heart.
She remembered Joffrey's handsome but twisted face, Cersei's green eyes always filled with disdain and scrutiny, and every noble in King's Landing who smiled at her face but hid vipers behind their backs.
She was tired of it.
She was tired of being a little bird, only singing songs that others had already composed in a cage.
She wanted to fly.
Even if she would crash and bleed when she flew out, she wanted to see the world outside the cage with her own eyes.
Sansa looked at Lynn in front of her, looking at the path this man had drawn for her, a path she had never imagined.
A path full of thorns, but leading to true freedom and power.
The next second, she made a move that even surprised Lynn.
Sansa lifted her complex and luxurious long dress, her movements graceful and resolute.
She slowly knelt on one knee before Lynn.
This was no longer a Lady's curtsy.
Lynn's face finally showed a hint of a smile.
He reached out, his hands wide and warm, pulling Sansa up from the cold floor.
"Sansa."
"Remember."
"From today on, I will protect you; you are no longer a bird in a cage."
"You are destined to be an eagle soaring over King's Landing."
... The next day, the morning sun had just filled the The Red Keep's courtyard.
Lynn stood on the Tower of the Hand's balcony, looking at the swaggering figure in the training ground below.
Joffrey Baratheon.
This future king was like a child who hadn't grown up yet.
He held a two-handed longsword taller than himself, laboriously hacking at a straw man.
His movements were clumsy and comical, but the expression on his face was as ferocious as a bloodthirsty beast.
Beside him, The Hound Sandor Clegane held his iconic dog-head helmet, watching expressionlessly, not saying a word.
Ever since the duel date was set, Sandor had become even more silent.
The violent aura on him seemed to have receded, and he was like a sharp sword sheathed.
All his sharpness was pointed towards seven days later, towards his brother, who was like a nightmare.
Lynn's mental chessboard was already laid out.
Cersei, Margaery, Sansa... each piece was in place.
But Joffrey, this most crucial and most unstable piece, was still off the board.
The best way to control a mad dog is not to put a collar on it.
But to be the only one who dares to feed it raw meat.
"Your Royal Highness, you seem to be in good spirits."
Lynn's voice clearly reached the training ground.
Joffrey, who was struggling with the scarecrow, suddenly turned around.
When he saw Lynn on the balcony, his face, red from exertion, instantly lit up.
He threw down the greatsword in his hand and ran over excitedly, like a puppy seeing its owner.
"Lynn! You're here! I was just about to look for you!"
Joffrey looked up, a morbid fervor flickering in his blue eyes.
"Have you seen my dog?"
"He can't wait to tear out his brother's guts!"
"This will definitely be the most exciting duel King's Landing has ever seen!"
His words were cruel and naive.
It was not surprising that Joffrey, who secretly abused small animals, had such a cruel and violent personality.
"Duels are exciting, but a true king cannot just indulge in daytime bloodshed."
Lynn walked down the stairs and stood before him.
His tone was as casual as an older brother teaching his younger brother.
Joffrey froze for a moment, somewhat puzzled.
"What do you mean?"
"Your father, King Robert, was a great warrior in his youth."
Lynn's lips curved into a mysterious smile.
He lowered his voice and leaned close to Joffrey's ear.
"But do you know what your great father liked to do most at night?"
Joffrey shook his head blankly.
He only knew that his father got drunk and yelled every night.
"He liked to experience the lives of his subjects."
Lynn's tone carried a hint of seduction.
"Go to the liveliest, most authentic places."
"To drink, to listen to stories, to find fun that a king couldn't find during the day."
Lynn portrayed Robert's debauchery as a charming kingly aura.
Joffrey's eyes lit up immediately.
He had heard rumors about his father's romantic escapades, but in his mother's and the Hand's mouths, they were shameful and disgraceful.
But in Lynn's description, it all sounded... so fascinating, full of masculine charm!
"Would you like to experience it?"
Lynn cast his fishing hook.
"Like a real man, a real king, to see the unknown side of this city."
"I... of course, I want to!"
Joffrey's chest instantly puffed out.
He was eager to prove that he was already a man.
"Then change out of your ridiculous prince's robes and dress like a commoner."
Lynn patted Joffrey's shoulder with satisfaction.
"Tonight, I'll take you to see what King's Landing truly looks like."
... As night fell, King's Landing shed its daytime disguise.
Revealing its truest and ugliest side.
Two figures wrapped in dark cloaks slipped out of a secluded side door of the The Red Keep.
Joffrey was trembling with excitement.
This was more thrilling than any hunt he had ever been on.
He felt like the heroes in songs embarking on secret missions, filled with the thrill of adventure.
Lynn led him, familiar with the route, through the dirty and winding alleys.
As they passed Flea Bottom, the mixed scent of poverty, filth, and despair made Joffrey instinctively cover his nose.
"Kings come to places like this too?"
Joffrey asked with disgust.
"A king rules all his subjects, whether they are nobles dressed in silk or beggars in rags."
Lynn's voice was exceptionally calm in the night.
"You must understand them to rule them better."
"Or..."
Lynn paused, a mysterious smile playing on his lips.
"... destroy them."
The last four words pierced Joffrey's heart, making him shiver uncontrollably, yet feeling a strange, dark pleasure.
Destroy.
What a beautiful word.
They finally stopped in front of a stone building with red lanterns on Silk Street.
Unlike the dilapidated brothels they had passed, this place was exceptionally elegant.
The building echoed with melodious music and women's bell-like laughter, and the air was filled with the scent of expensive spices.
"Where is this?"
Joffrey swallowed nervously.
"Your Royal Highness, this is my establishment; you don't have to worry about anyone knowing you're here."
"You can have a good time tonight."
Lynn smiled and pushed open the carved wooden door.
The sight behind the door instantly froze Joffrey.
Warm air mixed with the scent of wine, powder, and an ambiguous aroma wafted over him.
The hall was covered with thick Myr carpets, and the walls were hung with Volantis tapestries depicting lovemaking.
Several women in sheer gauze, with graceful figures, were teasing a pot-bellied merchant.
Their laughter was enchanting, and their eyes were captivating.
This was originally one of Petyr Baelish's most high-class establishments.
A pleasure den specifically for royalty, nobles, and wealthy merchants, offering the most luxurious experiences.
Now, Lynn had not only taken it over but had made it even more perfect than Petyr had.
Every woman was specially taught modern, professional techniques.
Some women were even studying how to pole dance.
They learned how to flirt.
Instead of just stripping and lying on the bed like dead pigs.
And they learned to use soap to make themselves cleaner.
Just the scent of them was enough to intoxicate these natives.
Joffrey felt his blood rush to his head in an instant.
He had seen the serving girls in the The Red Keep.
But those humble women were like potatoes in the mud compared to these beauties.
Everything here shocked him, frightened him, yet also filled him with a wild excitement.
A woman in a red silk dress with fiery curly hair swayed her snake-like waist as she approached.
Her eyes lit up when she saw Lynn, and her face immediately broke into a fawning smile.
"Lord Lynn, you haven't been here in a while."
Her voice was sickly sweet.
"And this is?"
Her gaze fell on Joffrey.
Even though he was wearing a common cloak, his handsome yet somewhat childish face and the undeniable arrogance still betrayed his identity.
Lynn's hand rested on Joffrey's shoulder, and he could clearly feel Joffrey trembling slightly beside him.
It was fear, and it was also anticipation.
"My brother, out to see the world for the first time."
Lynn gave the woman a meaningful smile.
He lowered his head, his lips close to Joffrey's ear, and whispered in a voice only they could hear:
"Welcome to another playground of power, Your Royal Highness."
Joffrey's pupils suddenly constricted.
He looked at the debauched men and women in the hall, at the beauties who were flirting with him, and the shock on his face and the fear of doing something bad quickly faded.
In its place was a look full of curiosity.
It was the look of a child who had discovered a new toy.
Lynn smiled.
Good, the first lesson for the little mad dog begins now.
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