"Good girl."
Jaqen spoke softly, a hidden heat beneath his calm tone. "Would the good girl come a little closer, so someone may take a better look?"
The way he said it sounded suspiciously like a stranger trying to coax a child.
Arya was not frightened by him at all.
Instead, she stepped closer.
She even picked up a small stick from the ground and carefully poked at the strange red half of his hair.
"It's real!" she exclaimed, her gray eyes wide with amazement. "Half red and half white, and split so neatly. How did you do it?"
Joffrey quietly stepped forward, placing himself directly between them.
Jaqen's gaze tried to move past him, still following the girl. But Joffrey did not give way.
"She is Arya Stark," he said calmly, his voice carrying through the courtyard.
"The second daughter of the current Hand of the King, Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell, Warden of the North."
"And she is also my guest."
The apprentices stopped whispering.
Even the wind seemed to pause.
The chained foreign prisoner and the prince standing before him entered a silent standoff.
Slowly, Jaqen's gaze withdrew from Arya. The brief loss of composure vanished completely.
He remained silent for a moment, as though weighing an invisible price.
"Someone..." he began again, his voice returning to its strange rhythm.
But there was now a trace of compromise in it.
"Someone is called Jaqen H'ghar, from Braavos. A nobody traveling to Westeros. A wanderer who lost his way."
"A wanderer?" Joffrey raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.
"What kind of wanderer gets lost in the deepest courtyard of the Red Keep and manages to injure three armed guards?
Jaqen H'ghar, if you want these chains removed, you must give me a clear promise."
"You will not harm me, or anyone around me."
As he spoke the final words, Joffrey's eyes locked firmly onto Jaqen's.
Arya sensed the sudden seriousness in the air. Her small face tightened, and she gripped the stick firmly in her hand.
Jaqen did not answer immediately.
He lowered his gaze, as though struggling with some inner rule.
After a long pause, he slowly exhaled.
"King's Landing is only a stop along someone's road. Someone came here seeking... ancient knowledge."
His voice grew distant, like a poem spoken in a forgotten language. "Someone's true destination lies where storm and saltwater meet."
He lifted his head again.
His gaze seemed to pass through Joffrey and look toward some distant shore.
"Someone swears in the name of the Many-Faced God. This is the nature of someone's path, and the full truth of this moment."
A faint smile touched his lips as he looked at Joffrey. "So, cautious and troublesome prince... may someone now be released?"
The courtyard fell completely silent.
The apprentices had retreated far away, and even Arya held her breath.
They might not understand the meaning of those words. But they could tell it was something serious.
Joffrey felt slightly speechless.
He had only asked for a promise. He had not expected Jaqen to reveal so much.
Though spoken vaguely, the "place where storm and saltwater meet" clearly pointed to the Iron Islands.
Joffrey slowly exhaled and nodded to the guard beside him.
"Unlock his chains. I will explain things to Commander Janos."
The iron lock clicked open.
Jaqen stood up and stretched his wrists. Then he turned toward Joffrey and bowed in a smooth Braavosi gesture.
"Someone's gratitude, Your Highness. Someone's debt will be remembered."
"You may leave," Joffrey said calmly. "I will arrange for someone to escort you out of the city. You will be given a horse and some coin for the road."
But Jaqen shook his head lightly.
A strange smile appeared on his face. "Someone will not leave... yet."
The same day, inside the council chamber of the Red Keep.
The message brought by a raven shattered the last traces of celebration from the tournament.
"I want them dead!"
Robert's roar shook the entire hall.
He slammed his fist against the council table. "I want the mother and the child dead! And that fool Viserys too!"
"Seven hells, Ned! I warned you long ago. Now the girl is pregnant!"
The members of the Small Council lowered their heads in silence. Almost everyone bent forward.
But Eddard remained standing straight, showing open disdain.
"Your Grace, you are chasing shadows."
Varys wrung his perfumed hands delicately.
"My lord, why would I dare fabricate such news and deceive the king and this council?"
"Our friends across the Narrow Sea have confirmed it clearly~
The last daughter of the fallen dynasty, Princess Daenerys Targaryen, has indeed married Khal Drogo of the Dothraki."
"And she is now with child... There can be no mistake."
Eddard's gaze turned cold as he looked at the eunuch.
"If the information is wrong, we need not fear.
If the girl miscarries, we need not fear.
If she gives birth to a daughter, we need not fear.
If the child dies before reaching adulthood, we still need not fear."
"And besides, the Narrow Sea lies between us. The Dothraki consider seawater poison."
"I will begin to worry only when their horses learn to walk on water."
Robert drank deeply from his cup. "So you intend to wait until that dragon's whelp lands on our shores with an army before you act?"
"It is still an unborn child," Eddard replied calmly.
"I never thought that after all these years, you would become a coward."
Robert hurled the wine jug against the wall.
"Have you forgotten?!" the king roared.
"Have you forgotten how the Mad King burned your father alive and strangled your brother? Have you forgotten how Rhaegar carried Lyanna away?"
"If I don't kill them, the gods themselves will curse me!"
He turned suddenly toward the rest of the council. "You tell me! Should they die?"
Renly nodded immediately.
"They should."
Varys, Littlefinger, and Pycelle quickly agreed.
Only Barristan spoke in opposition. "Your Grace, such a deed would bring little honor."
No one knew whether the old knight spoke out of pity for the unborn child, or because of lingering loyalty to the bloodline he had once served.
Eddard stood up slowly, his expression conflicted.
"The man who passes the sentence must swing the sword. And before taking a life, he must look into the victim's eyes."
"Robert, I will not be a partner in murder."
He unclasped his cloak.
Then he removed the silver Hand of the King badge from his chest and placed it firmly on the table before the king.
"I once believed you were not this kind of man."
Robert's face turned from red to purple.
"Get out!" he shouted. "Get out! Go back to your Winterfell!"
"If I see you again, I'll have your head!"
Eddard said nothing.
He simply turned and walked toward the heavy doors. But just as the tension reached its peak, a panicked voice sounded outside.
"Your Grace, Lord Tywin requests an urgent audience."
Before anyone could respond, the doors burst open. Tywin Lannister strode into the chamber.
His pale green eyes swept across the room before stopping on Eddard.
"Your Grace. My lords."
"I have come to make a formal accusation against Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell."
Every word struck the hall like a hammer.
"His wife, Lady Catelyn... Has seized my son by force on the King's Road in the Riverlands."
"Tyrion Lannister."
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