Looking at the two children before him, whose temperaments were completely different, Kal could not help but rub both of their heads.
Under the stern gaze of Syrio Forel, who stood nearby staring at them with wide eyes, Arya had no choice but to stand properly in front of Kal together with Bran.
"How have things been during this time? Have you been slacking off?"
Looking at the two of them, Kal asked the question.
It would have been better if he had not said anything. The moment he asked, the expressions on both of their faces immediately turned bitter, as if they had suffered some enormous injustice yet had nowhere to seek redress.
"Kal, could you make those teachers stop teaching me all that headache-inducing knowledge and learning? I don't think I need any of it. After all, no one is going to knight me as a noble and then grant me a piece of land with a castle for me to manage."
"And Septa Mordane alone is already more than enough for me to bear. Every time I make her angry, the way she looks at me makes it seem as though she wishes she could shove me back into my mother's belly and remake me from the beginning. So I hate her! I also hate those embroidery lessons, and those teachers who force me to hold a pen and write on paper!"
"I prefer holding a sword and fighting like a knight!"
The moment she heard Kal say this, Arya could not help but complain. The way she clenched her teeth made it seem as though she wished she could swallow Septa Mordane—and those classes that made her suffer and grow drowsy—whole.
No one had expected her to say such bold words at a time like this. Syrio started, then glanced at Kal before hurriedly raising his voice to rebuke Arya and cut off her complaint.
"Hey—Arya, you cannot say such things, nor can you speak of Septa Mordane that way!"
"Otherwise, I will punish you by making you hold a horse stance for an entire afternoon, and I will place a bucket of water on your head!"
After being scolded, Arya finally realized what she had just done. She quickly stuck out her tongue and drew her head back, acting as though the words she had just said were nothing but nonsense.
Kal himself was slightly taken aback for a moment, then could not help but smile and shake his head.
Arya was still the same Arya as ever, as if she would never change.
"Syrio Forel is right, Arya. You cannot use such words to insult Septa Mordane—or those teachers."
"Although Septa Mordane often seems somewhat rigid, that is not her fault. Her life, the environment in which she grew up, and her understanding of the world have long since determined what kind of person she is. She is merely demanding the best of you in the way she believes is right."
"Moreover, that is simply her work and her duty. You should not treat a sincere and earnest person with such harshness—no matter what that person may think in their heart—so long as she has not truly done such things."
"And in truth, Septa Mordane cares greatly for you and for Sansa, and she treats you well. It is simply that you cannot yet understand such affection. After all, the only response you give her is entirely negative, even casting aside the effort she puts into her work as though it were nothing."
"The way people treat one another is like looking into a mirror. What you see in others is the reflection of your own self, not the self you imagine yourself to be."
"Septa Mordane is very loyal to House Stark. In times of danger, I have no doubt she would give her life for it—if only to win you young ladies a single chance to survive. If you do not believe it, you may ask your father, Lord Eddard Stark."
"So if possible, I hope that later I will see you personally apologize to Septa Mordane. And from now on, you must not make Septa Mordane angry again."
As Kal spoke these words, the expression on his face was no longer playful. Instead, it became extremely serious, making it clear at a glance that he was not joking.
When Kal finished speaking, the garden fell silent.
Syrio and Barristan, who stood nearby, could not help but fall into thought after hearing what Kal had said.
Only then did Arya put away her playful mood. After glancing around, she could only lower her head and agree that she would personally apologize to Septa Mordane.
Kal could not help but shake his head at this, and he did not continue to dwell on the matter.
His gaze shifted to Bran, then to Arya, noticing that their hair had been soaked with sweat and clung to their scalps in damp strands.
Only then did Kal turn to Syrio.
"I imagine Bran would not, like Arya, run to complain—at least not until he truly believes himself outstanding—so I will not pursue this matter further."
"Ser Syrio Forel, may I ask whether I can request leave for this young lord and lady? I assure you their lessons will not fall behind."
Faced with the king's request, how could Syrio possibly say the word "no"?
After instructing the two of them about the time of tomorrow's lessons, he allowed them to leave.
Kal waved his hand, signaling for them to gather their things and follow him.
The moment they saw they would not have to continue training, both Arya and Bran grew excited. After taking their leave of Syrio, they set down their things and followed behind Kal.
"Are you still having those dreams, Bran? Is that three-eyed crow still watching you?"
As they walked along the road, Kal suddenly spoke.
Hearing this, Arya could not help but turn a worried gaze toward Bran.
It had long since ceased to be a secret that Bran occasionally dreamed of strange things. Those eerie dreams always troubled him, as though from the moment he fell from that tower, his life had entered an entirely different scene.
At Kal's question, Bran was first taken aback. Then he pressed his lips together.
"Recently it has happened much less often. Even when I dream, the things in the dream have become blurred and unreal. I cannot hear the crow's voice clearly, and I cannot see its appearance clearly."
"…Perhaps after some more time, it will disappear from my dreams completely."
When speaking of this matter, Bran did not know whether he should feel happy or disappointed.
In any case, he always had the feeling that something had been lost from him.
Every time he had such dreams, they left him troubled—especially after hearing about what had happened to Robb in Winterfell.
The things that had occurred in reality, combined with the dreams, made Bran realize that they were not simple dreams. He always found himself thinking about them.
After listening to Bran's account, Kal nodded slightly.
For the three-eyed crow to do such things, it naturally relied upon the power of the old gods.
But as Bran's fate had been changed by Kal, and now that he had been brought to King's Landing, with such a great distance between them, the power of that three-eyed crow—or rather the power of the greenseer—had gradually weakened through that distance and over time.
As Kal's actions increased more and more, that hand seemed no longer able to reach so far.
"Perhaps before long Lord Eddard Stark will set out for the North. He will likely take you all with him."
"But Bran, I would advise that you remain in King's Landing. In fact, the same goes for your brothers and sisters, including Arya. There is something very special about you. That quality will attract the attention of those who harbor ill intentions."
"Given the current situation, with mankind resisting the Others, it would be best if fewer unnecessary complications arose."
Bran could not fully understand what Kal meant to express, but he understood that the king seemed unwilling for him and Arya to return to the North with their father and mother. This made his mood sink.
Kal said no more. He simply rubbed Bran's hair once again, then led the Kingsguard and the two children into the Tower of the Hand.
…
Kal had arrived suddenly. Although Vayon Poole, the steward brought by Eddard Stark, had already informed Eddard in the study—where he had been buried in the work of governance—as quickly as possible, by the time the Lord and Lady of Winterfell came to receive Kal, he had already been waiting in the hall of the Tower of the Hand.
At this moment, he was performing small tricks for the two children. Marvelous magic always stirred the hearts of children of that age, leaving them scratching their heads in fascination.
What Eddard Stark and his wife, Catelyn Tully, saw upon arriving was precisely such a scene.
"Your Majesty, please forgive my failure to welcome you sooner!"
"Greetings, Your Majesty Kal."
With Catelyn beside him, Eddard hurried forward to greet him.
Seeing the two arrive, Kal extinguished the direwolf he had been sketching in midair with flames.
"Lord Eddard, in private we need not be so rigid in carrying out such courtesies. Moreover, you are the father of my betrothed. It should be I who shows respect to you."
"Your Majesty, courtesies cannot be set aside at will."
Eddard replied with a stern face, holding firmly to his view.
Seeing that Arya no longer had magic to watch once her father and mother arrived, she quickly spoke up as well.
"I think it isn't necessary either. Father, Kal is just like Robb."
Arya widened her eyes, seeing nothing wrong with it.
Only Catelyn quickly glared at her.
"Your Majesty, please forgive Arya's rudeness. She is practically like a boy."
"I rather like her frankness. Perhaps I ought to make her my remonstrator, hahahaha."
Kal laughed and waved the matter off.
Seeing this, Catelyn quickly took the two children away.
Watching the three of them walk off into the distance, Kal then signaled with his eyes to the three men who had been on daytime duty and had followed him the entire time—Barristan and the other two.
Barristan then took Garlan and Theon with him, and the three of them spread out to block the passages leading from the hall to the outside and toward the kitchens, ensuring that no one would come to disturb the king and the Hand.
After making sure that no one was around, Kal gestured for Eddard to sit down in front of him.
"Lord Eddard, are you certain that you truly wish to resign the office of Hand?"
"Although the position was granted to you by my father Robert, you know that I do not truly care about such things."
Faced with the king's attempt to persuade him, Eddard still shook his head firmly.
"Your Majesty, you know that I am not truly suited to the South. The whole House Stark is the same. Jon's sudden death caused Robert to come north to seek my aid. I believe I have already fulfilled my mission, and it is time for me to return to the place where I belong."
"Moreover, the enemies beyond the Wall in the North need me more than this place does."
In the face of Eddard's insistence, Kal fell silent for a moment before ceasing to persuade him further.
"Very well, I understand your meaning. Although this matter has already become public knowledge, I must still say that after you leave King's Landing, I will have Tyrion Lannister take over this position."
This was the first time the two of them had openly discussed the matter of Tyrion succeeding him as Hand of the King.
After hearing this, Eddard was not surprised. Instead, he said with a hint of praise, "Though he is small of stature, he possesses an incomparable mind and wisdom, and he also has a compassionate heart toward the smallfolk… Your Majesty, I believe that with his abilities he will be able to assist you and help accomplish your great undertaking."
Receiving Eddard's support, Kal smiled.
Then the topic shifted.
"After my coronation ceremony is completed, I would like you to preside over the wedding between Sansa and me."
Faced with this request, Eddard's breathing could not help but quicken.
But he soon regained his composure.
"Your Majesty, should not your wedding be presided over by the High Septon?"
Confusion appeared on Eddard's face.
Yet upon hearing this, the smile on Kal's face gradually faded.
"I wish my wedding to take place under the witness of the people, not the so-called Faith."
"Lord Eddard, my wedding cannot be presided over by the Faith. In fact, I can tell you directly that regarding the Faith, I will gradually separate it from politics and reduce its influence as much as possible."
"In the realm I rule, I have no need of them."
"Why?"
Mindful of Kal's status and of his own belief in the old gods, Eddard did not show excessive shock. Instead, he turned his head slightly and asked, his expression full of doubt.
"I believe that within a realm, there should not exist those who produce nothing, yet press down upon the poor and exploit them."
"And some of their doctrines, I believe, must be changed."
"At the very least, what people call a church—one that provides spiritual support and faith to the people—should understand what its duty truly is, whom it ought to serve, and what the meaning of its existence truly is."
"It should be a tool that serves the people, not a blade held in the hands of those with ulterior motives."
"A blade controlled by others, used to cut those who are themselves being controlled—its edge stained with blood."
Kal spoke lightly, yet to Eddard the words sounded like a thunderclap from a clear sky, leaving him so shocked that he could not help but gape.
Truth be told, he had never thought about such matters.
He had never even considered questions like these.
In the North, faith in the old gods was very loose, and he had never given much thought to such things.
Even after arriving in King's Landing, he had not truly felt the presence of the Faith.
It seemed that only when he lacked coin did Robert reach his hand into that purse.
But of course, that did not mean the coin did not have to be repaid.
That was one of the reasons he disliked the Faith.
"Is it… truly that serious?"
After hearing so much from Kal, Eddard's face was full of disbelief.
Kal merely shook his head.
"Once certain matters are truly examined, the darkness within can be nothing short of horrifying."
As Eddard gradually began to grasp the meaning of his words and seemed to have thought of something—
Before he could speak, Kal continued.
"Very well. I will deal with this matter carefully and slowly. I will not act recklessly as 'Maegor the Cruel' once did."
"A single sweeping cut—or handling something roughly and directly—will only produce the opposite result. What I need to do is simply treat the illness at its source."
"But if anyone truly believes himself chosen by fate, or wishes to try something… heh…"
Although Kal was smiling, a faint and indifferent killing intent had already begun to spread.
"So the reason you made Melisandre the High Septon of the Faith of the Seven is because of this?"
After opening his mouth for a moment, Eddard finally asked the question.
"This is only the beginning."
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