Lo Quen finally understood.
Anders' eldest daughter, Ynys, had later married Ryon Allyrion, heir to Godsgrace. Quentyn had been deeply infatuated with Ynys and had never gotten over her marriage and children.
But this Ryon Allyrion was no young man—likely older than Anders himself—since he already had a well-known adult bastard, Daemon Sand. That bastard had climbed into Princess Arianne's bed at just fourteen.
Anders had married his daughters off to old men purely to strengthen his house's standing in Dorne. He had even considered marrying his youngest daughter, Gwyneth, to "Quentyn" as another way of binding his family to the Martells.
The irony was that all these carefully arranged marriage partners might have been false identities.
"About the ransom..."
Lo Quen waved his hand, his voice leaving no room for dispute.
"Soon, I will announce it to all the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms. Rest assured, Lord Anders, you won't be kept waiting long. For now, enjoy your meal."
Lord Anders sighed and bent over his plate. Watching him finally break and devour the stuffed goose and bread, Lo Quen's lips curved into a knowing smile.
Not long after Anders had been taken away, the chamber doors opened again. This time, the Dragon Soul Guards escorted in Yohn Royce, Lord of Runestone in the Vale—known as "Bronze Yohn"—and commander of the Vale's host.
House Royce was second only to House Arryn in the Vale, its influence beyond question.
Yohn Royce's hair was gray, his face carved by the years, yet his eagle-sharp gray eyes still burned with fury beneath heavy brows. Tall and broad-shouldered, the power in his frame was clear even with ropes binding him. His thick-knuckled hands, tied behind his back, spoke of a lifetime of martial training.
"Lord Royce, please sit. I've prepared delicacies for you."
Lo Quen greeted him with a host's smile.
But Yohn Royce glared back like a lion in rage, his gaze brimming with defiance and hate. When the Dragon Soul Guards moved to loosen his ropes, he surged up suddenly, muscles straining as he lunged at Lo Quen.
"Unhand me, you blasphemous monsters! Eastern man, your schemes will never prevail!"
His defiance, however, was useless before the sheer strength of the Dragon Soul Guards, who quickly overpowered him.
Lo Quen sighed. This "Bronze Yohn" truly lived up to his hot-tempered name. He gave a small signal.
At once, two guards drove their fists into Royce's body without mercy. Dull thuds and muffled groans filled the chamber. After a full minute of blows, the powerful Vale lord collapsed into his chair, gasping for air, blood at his lips, his body bruised.
Only then did Lo Quen speak, his tone calm and deliberate.
"Now, Lord Royce, perhaps we can talk reasonably. For example, the matter of the Vale's Warden..."
Through pain and swelling, Yohn Royce forced out a mocking, resolute laugh.
"Bah! Eastern man, keep your deceit. I, Yohn Royce, am no dishonorable scum like Jorah Mormont. House Royce has served House Arryn for generations. Beneath the Eyrie's banner, there will be no betrayal."
His words rang with conviction.
Lo Quen scoffed, his eyes as if peering into the future.
"Is that so? Perhaps one day, Runestone and the Eyrie will cross swords for reasons beyond imagining. The world is ever changing, my lord."
Yohn Royce's neck stiffened as he roared,
"Impossible! Absolutely impossible! House Royce will never abandon its liege lord!"
"Hmph." Lo Quen gave a short laugh, already bored. There was no reasoning with such a stubborn fool.
He would understand once House Royce joined the Righteous Alliance.
"Take him away."
The Dragon Soul Guards dragged Royce out, leaving him no chance even to sip water.
As for the Vale, Lo Quen felt no concern. On the prisoner list, he had already noticed another crucial name—Harrold Hardyng.
With that "heir" in hand, the Vale's game would have far subtler moves. All that remained was to remove Robert Arryn.
Chai Yi stepped forward and asked,
"Lord, shall we continue summoning other nobles?"
Lo Quen leaned back in his chair, fingers lightly tapping the list of nobles as he sank into thought.
In the North, he had Jorah as a pawn to play.
In the Vale, there was Harrold Hardyng.
In Dorne, he had already sown seeds of suspicion in Yronwood's mind.
The Reach...
He had intended to approach a representative of House Tyrell. Yet the list only contained Garlan Tyrell, Mace Tyrell's second son, who held little influence in Highgarden. And Moryn Tyrell, whom he had just ordered executed publicly for serving House Hightower.
With Moryn's death, enmity with both House Tyrell and House Hightower was sealed. Any hope of reaching the Tyrells through Garlan was now all but impossible.
And Oldtown's Hightower...
That mysterious, ancient house was rumored to have deep ties to the long-vanished Great Empire of the Dawn. Its current Lord, Leyton, and his mad daughter spent their days obsessed with the occult and magic.
Against such a sinister, unpredictable, and already hostile foe, Lo Quen saw no reason to seek an alliance. They were far more likely to be enemies in the future. Besides, he already held Leyton's daughter, Lynesse, captive—and had slain Moryn, Oldtown's garrison commander.
As for House Redwyne...
Though Lord Paxter had been captured, the bonds between the Arbor, Highgarden's Tyrells, and Oldtown's Hightowers were far too tangled. Paxter's aunt was the "Queen of Thorns," Olenna Redwyne. His wife, Mina Tyrell, was Olenna's daughter. And Mace Tyrell, Great Lord of Highgarden, was married to Alerie Hightower, daughter of Leyton Hightower.
Together, the three great houses of the Reach—Tyrell, Hightower, and Redwyne—formed an iron triangle of blood and marriage that left no opening for outsiders.
Especially under the watchful eye of the cunning "Queen of Thorns," Lady Olenna, Lo Quen had yet to find any suitable point of entry to plant influence or drive a wedge.
The Westerlands?
Under the iron rule of Lord Tywin Lannister, House Lannister stood immovable. The only worthwhile captive was Kevan Lannister. Not even Tywin's most vicious hound, Gregor Clegane—the Mountain—had come to the Stepstones.
The Riverlands?
Ser Brynden Tully, the "Blackfish," was not on the list. Perhaps he had perished in the dragonfire alongside Maege Mormont, or perhaps he had escaped with King Robert's ship.
But House Tully's hold over the Riverlands had never been strong. Once the North and the Vale were secured, the Riverlands would wither on their own. One Blackfish alone could not raise a storm.
And the Stormlands?
Most of their lords had followed Renly Baratheon, who sailed with Robert. Lo Quen assumed they had escaped as well. Still, the Stormlands would eventually require stirring, and when the time came, he would find his chance.
Lo Quen's gaze lingered over the long list before finally closing the register.
...
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