The Small Council meeting ended on a sour note.
Or rather, it concluded hastily amidst a frenzied monologue.
As Robert Baratheon's bloodthirsty and tyrannical laughter still echoed in the council chamber, Cersei Lannister was the first to rise and leave.
Her face, usually maintaining an air of haughty beauty, was now ashen, her clenched fists betraying her inner fury.
She didn't even bother to bow to the madman on the throne, walking straight out the door.
Robert was mad.
This thought screamed in Cersei's mind.
Letting a Northern girl who knew nothing be the master of coin?
This was even more absurd than letting a damn wild boar manage the treasury!
Who was he trying to humiliate?
Humiliate Ned Stark?
No!
He was humiliating the Lannister!
He was slapping her face!
Robert not only suspected the Stark, but also guarded against the Lannister!
Renly Baratheon followed close behind.
He didn't even glance at his brother on the throne; his face, usually adorned with an elegant smile, now held nothing but undisguised disgust and coldness.
To restrain Ned, Robert wouldn't even grant Renly, also a Baratheon, any benefits.
Such a King.
He had nothing to say!
Varys and Grand Maester Pycelle also bowed and excused themselves.
The ghostly expressions on their faces suggested they hadn't yet recovered from the absurd drama they had just witnessed.
Soon, in the vast council chamber, only Lynn and Ned Stark, still slumped in the Hand's seat, remained.
"Let's go, Lord Ned."
Lynn spoke calmly.
"The show is over; it's time to leave."
Ned slowly raised his head, his grey eyes filled with complex emotions.
He looked at Lynn, his lips moving, but in the end, it only turned into a long sigh.
He stood up and, without a word, followed Lynn out of this suffocating center of power.
By the time Lynn returned to his quarters, it was very late.
A very light knock sounded at the door, as soft as a feather falling on a carpet.
Lynn's eyebrow twitched slightly.
"Come in."
The door opened silently.
A slender figure slipped in and quickly closed the door.
Instantly, the air was filled with the rich fragrance of roses.
"Congratulations, Lord Lynn."
Margaery Tyrell's voice sounded in the darkness, carrying a hint of lazy amusement.
She walked familiarly to Lynn, the moonlight outlining her graceful and captivating curves.
"Or should I call you... the Chief Regent of Westeros?"
Margaery walked to Lynn, her hands gently resting on his shoulders.
Her brown eyes, still bright as stars in the darkness, gazed unblinkingly at Lynn.
They were filled with undisguised admiration and wonder.
"How did you manage it, after all?"
"To make King Robert such a... shocking decision?"
"I thought my grandmother was already the most formidable person in the Seven Kingdoms, but in front of you, her methods seem to fall short."
There was no jealousy in Margaery's tone, only excitement.
"I merely presented His Majesty the King with a logical suggestion."
Lynn replied calmly.
"Logical?"
Margaery couldn't help but chuckle softly.
"Making Sansa Stark the master of coin, is that logical?"
She took a step forward, her voluptuous and warm body almost pressing against Lynn.
The scent of roses, mixed with the unique fragrance of a young woman, became even more intense.
"Lynn."
Margaery's voice was very low, with a hint of seduction.
"You play everyone like puppets, including that high and mighty King."
"I'm truly curious how you do it."
Lynn looked at her, at the delicate face so close, at the naked ambition and scrutiny in her eyes.
"The process isn't important; the outcome is key."
"I succeeded, didn't I?"
Lynn countered.
Margaery paused, then laughed, her body shaking with mirth.
"Indeed."
She stood on tiptoe.
Her warm breath gently brushed against Lynn's earlobe.
"We are natural allies."
"My lord, please always remember that."
With that, Margaery made no further unnecessary movements, simply stepping back and performing an impeccable curtsy to Lynn.
"I merely came to express my congratulations, and the respect of Highgarden."
"After tonight, all of King's Landing will be mad for you."
"Again, congratulations, Lord Lynn."
Margaery's figure disappeared behind the door.
Yet the scent of roses lingered for a long time... Lynn did not stay long at the The Red Keep; he packed his belongings and went directly to find Arya, who was sound asleep in her room.
Arya was woken by a slight jostle.
She opened her eyes.
"Lynn?"
Arya rubbed her eyes, still a bit groggy.
"Awake?"
Lynn's voice came.
"If you're awake, get ready to go."
"Where are we... going?"
Arya instantly sobered up, a thrill of adventure surging through her.
"Home."
Lynn's answer was simple.
"Pack your things, Arya."
Lynn ruffled her messy hair.
"Home?"
Arya paused, then realized.
"Now? Back to Winterfell?"
"Yes, now."
Arya's face instantly erupted in uncontrollable joy!
She had long grown tired of this wretched place, King's Landing!
Everyone here was so hypocritical, not fun at all!
Winterfell was better, with Robb, with snow, and also...
Arya secretly glanced at Lynn, her cheeks flushing slightly.
Wherever Lynn went, she wanted to go.
The destination wasn't important.
What mattered was being able to be with Lynn.
"Then how do we go? On horseback? Did Father agree?"
"Lord Ned certainly agreed; I wouldn't want to abduct his precious daughter, he'd kill me."
Lynn took her small hand.
"However, we're not riding horses."
"We're taking something much faster."
Arya wanted to ask more, but Lynn pulled her out of the Tower of the Hand.
In a secluded corner of the The Red Keep, Lynn led Arya and stopped in an open courtyard.
Arya peeked her small head from behind Lynn, curiously surveying her surroundings.
There were two magnificent horses here.
The two of them mounted their horses.
Arya followed Lynn, and after an unknown amount of time, an open clearing appeared ahead.
In the center of the clearing, a colossal shadow lay.
The shadow reflected a faint blue hue in the moonlight.
As they approached, Arya finally saw what it was.
Her breath hitched at that moment.
It was a dragon.
A real, living dragon!
Its body was larger than three war elephants combined, covered in scales interwoven with ice-blue and silver-white, shimmering with a dreamy luster in the moonlight.
Its three heads were slightly raised, two majestic dragon horns like crowns forged from obsidian.
Its three pairs of golden vertical pupils glowed like small burning magic orbs in the darkness.
It merely lay there, yet it exuded an aura of majesty capable of making all things submit.
Arya's small mouth was slightly agape.
Her grey eyes, always full of vitality, were filled with shock and ecstasy.
"It's Winter!"
"It was so tiny when I left it."
"How long has it been, and it's already grown so big!"
It was no wonder Arya instantly recognized it as Winter.
Winter's three heads were simply too iconic.
"Winter."
Lynn dismounted and called out softly.
The giant dragon let out a low growl.
Its massive head lowered, affectionately rubbing against Lynn.
Its golden vertical pupils were filled with the docility and dependence of a kitten.
"Want to touch it?"
Lynn turned and asked Arya with a smile.
Arya's eyes instantly lit up.
She almost tumbled off the horse, but the closer she got, the slower her steps became.
Finally, she cautiously walked up to Winter.
Arya extended her trembling small hand and gently placed it on Winter's cold scales.
The touch was hard, yet it carried a strange warmth.
"Wow..."
Arya let out an awestruck whisper, like a dream.
"Hold on tight, we're about to take off."
Lynn picked up Arya, and with an easy leap, landed on Winter's broad back.
Arya hugged Lynn's waist tightly, her heart pounding wildly from nervousness and excitement.
"Roar—!!!"
Winter let out a dragon's roar that pierced the clouds and shattered stones!
It spread its massive wings, obscuring the sky, and flapped them downward with a mighty sweep!
Boom—!
A powerful current of air swirled up fallen leaves and dust from the ground.
Arya felt her body suddenly thrust upwards, instantly experiencing extreme g-force!
She instinctively closed her eyes and let out a scream.
When she opened her eyes again, she was completely stunned.
The ground rapidly receded beneath them; the lights of King's Landing became tiny specks of light.
They passed through the clouds.
The bright moonlight shone on them, as if draping them in a silver veil.
They saw the sunrise again, and Arya was absolutely thrilled to see the sunrise from such a high altitude.
The biting cold wind howled past her ears, making it almost impossible for Arya to open her eyes.
But she didn't care.
She spread her arms, facing the gale, and let out a hearty shout of exhilaration.
She felt as if she had broken free from all restraints, transforming into a free bird!
This feeling was ten thousand times more exhilarating than hitting the bullseye with her needle!
...Winter's flying speed was beyond imagination.
As the sky once again turned a pale grey, an endless stretch of grey city walls appeared on the horizon.
Winterfell.
Arya looked at the familiar castle below, a feeling of having lived a lifetime washing over her.
When she left, she was just a little girl who only knew how to wield a sword and spear.
And now, she had returned, riding a dragon.
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