The crypt was silent when Alderic finally rose, his steps echoing faintly between the stone effigies. The torches had burned low, their light flickering against the carved visages of long-dead lords of House Ravenshade. For a moment, he stood before the tomb of his father — the cold marble likeness of Lord Thalen, whose spirit had lingered until the first light of dawn. The warmth of that fading presence still clung to Alderic's chest like an ember that refused to die.
Sebas awaited him near the crypt's entrance, his wrinkled face illuminated by a single lamp. "You have spoken with him, haven't you?" the Maester asked softly.
Alderic nodded. "I have. And I have learned more than I ever thought I would — about him… and about myself, prepare for the meeting "
Later that day, the great hall of Ravenshade Keep was sealed. The black banners bearing the sigil of the twin-headed raven hung solemnly over the long table, where five chairs had been set.
Seated at Alderic's right was Maester Sebas, his lifelong tutor and now his chief adviser. To his left sat Lord Darion Darnor, the Master-at-Arms, a broad-shouldered veteran with steel-gray eyes. Opposite him was Lady Merial Bellmire, the Steward and Spymaster, a sharp-minded woman whose silence often carried more weight than speech. Beside her, Lord Harwin Galdun, Captain of the Castle Guard, sat with arms crossed, a picture of quiet loyalty.
These four — and Alderic — were the inner circle of House Ravenshade, those who had sworn oaths bound by blood and shadow.
As the heavy doors shut, Alderic's voice cut through the still air. "Before we begin, tell me — why was I kept blind for so long? Why did none of you tell me the truth of what we are?"
Each of them exchanged glances before Sebas answered, "It was not out of mistrust, my lord, but out of duty. Your father decreed it so. Until the day came when you could stand before him, you were not to know. It was our vow — a vow bound in the old words and sealed beneath the crypt."
Darnor added, "Your father trusted us to guard not just you, but what you represent. The fewer who knew, the longer Ravenshade endured."
Alderic exhaled slowly, resting his palms on the table. "Then that time is over. I would see all that my father left — all that I command."
What followed struck Alderic to the core. Sebas began listing forces and networks that few outside the room could even imagine —
At the surface, Ravenshade was the third most powerful house in the Vale, and tenth in Westeros. But in truth — with its shadow assets included — it could rival the mightiest Great Houses, even challenge the Iron Throne itself in secret strength.
Alderic felt a chill. "You mean to say," he murmured, "that we could rival the Lannisters and Tyrells?"
Sebas nodded. "Perhaps surpass them, in the right hands. But remember Ravenshade motto,So we choose patience and secrecy over conquest."
Sebas unfurled a thick parchment map across the table. It was marked with lines, sigils, and codes unseen in any maester's records. "This," he said, "is the full measure of Ravenshade's reach."
He began listing figures, precise and deliberate.
Standing Military Force:
6,200 professional soldiers stationed across the Vale and mountain passes.
14,800 levied troops from loyal vassals within three days' call.
2,200 elite Raven Sentinels — the secret guard trained since birth within the keep.
Shadow Network:
800 active operatives across Westeros.
300 agents in Essos, primarily in Braavos, Pentos, and Volantis.
15 informant houses across seven kingdoms.
3 hidden fleets under false banners operating between Gulltown and Lys.
Wealth & Influence:
Annual revenue: 4,800,000 gold dragons (documented).
Hidden treasury: estimated 13 million gold dragons stored in offshore vaults under merchant syndicates.
Controlling interest in three major trading companies in Essos.
42 merchant ships under foreign flags of convenience.
When the talk turned to politics, Bellmire's face darkened. "My lord, since the death of Lord Jon Arryn, the realm festers in silence. Our informants in the capital confirm that Lady Lysa fled to the Eyrie with her son. The King rides north to Winterfell, naming Eddard Stark as Hand."
Alderic frowned. "A Stark as Hand? That may calm the realm, for Eddard is an honorable man."
Sebas shook his head. "If only honor could hold the realm together. There are darker truths beneath the surface."
He gestured to Bellmire, who handed Alderic a sealed parchment bearing the sigil of the Raven Shadows.
"According to our agents," Sebas said grimly, "Lord Arryn was poisoned — by command of his own wife, Lady Lysa, under the manipulation of Petyr Baelish."
The hall fell into silence.
"Baelish?" Alderic repeated. "The Master of Coin?"
"The very same," Bellmire confirmed. "A spider with ambition equal to Varys himself. He used his brothels to gather secrets and his gold to buy loyalty. Through Lysa, he killed her husband and now seeks to control the Vale through her son. His plan is to stir chaos among the great houses — chaos he believes will raise him higher."
Darnor's hand tightened on his sword pommel. "Vile worm."
Bellmire smirked grimly. "A worm that thrives in the dark — the kind we must watch carefully."
Sebas continued. "Grand Maester Pycelle, too, is not innocent. He knew of the poison, but kept silent to protect the Lannisters.
Alderic's hand tightened on the table's edge. "And the King? What of Robert Baratheon?"
Sebas sighed. "The King is blind to it all."
Alderic stared at the flickering candlelight, his thoughts racing . A kingdom rotting beneath golden crowns.
Sebas began his explanation, his tone heavy.
"Robert Baratheon was a warrior of unmatched might — charismatic, beloved, and reckless. He won his crown by the hammer and the blood of dragons. But victory became his poison. Since the death of Lyanna Stark, he has drowned himself in wine and whores. His marriage to Cersei Lannister is loveless, forged only to bind the lions to his rule."
Alderic frowned. "And his heirs?"
Sebas hesitated. "None of them are his, my lord."
Bellmire elaborated coldly. "Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen — all born of incest between Cersei and her twin, Jaime Lannister. The realm does not know… but Lord Arryn did. That knowledge killed him."
Alderic stood, stunned. "And you have proof?"
Bellmire nodded. "We have evidence gathered by our shadow in the Red Keep — the birth records, hair color discrepancies, and Pycelle's own admissions to Varys. Our spies confirmed that Arryn was silenced for this truth."
Darnor growled lowly. "Then the throne itself is built on deceit."
Alderic turned away, staring at the raven banners. "Robert... a conqueror unfit to rule. His council filled with vipers — Pycelle, a traitor; Baelish, a manipulator; Varys, a foreign spider. If chaos comes, he will drown in his own cup."