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Jimmy sat in the corner, quietly sipping boiled water while listening to the conversations around him.
Barra found it baffling.
Weren't noble children raised on wine from a young age? That was what everyone said.
So why did this noble only drink water?
And not just water. He paid absurd prices for it.
Nobles truly had strange habits.
Jimmy ordered an entire roasted lamb and placed a silver stag on the table.
When Barra came to collect the coin, she leaned in slightly and spoke in a low voice.
"Stoney Sept is running out of food. Soon, you might not be able to buy lamb at all."
She glanced toward the kitchen.
"We were lucky to get a few today. A man brought them in himself. Huge fellow. Carried a massive axe. Looked terrifying."
Jimmy flicked another silver stag toward her.
She caught it easily and smiled, hurrying away.
She understood him well.
Out of everyone in the inn, Barra alone knew when to speak and when to remain silent.
She knew restraint.
She never pushed too far, never showed open greed.
Because of that, she earned more from Jimmy than anyone else.
She had also noticed something else.
Every coin Jimmy used was silver.
Not once had he paid with copper.
The careless spending confirmed what everyone already believed.
He was nobility.
True nobility.
…
"Do you have rooms available?"
The innkeeper looked up.
"Yes. We do. Wait…"
He froze.
"…Black cloaks?"
His expression shifted instantly.
Surprise.
Then excitement.
Yoren frowned slightly.
He didn't understand.
This was an inn like any other. Black cloaks came only to eat and sleep. They didn't drink heavily. They didn't spend freely. They certainly didn't indulge in pleasures the way knights and nobles did.
There was no profit in serving the Night's Watch.
But this was the only inn in town.
He had no choice.
This meal would be his treat.
A final kindness.
Yoren had already accepted the possibility of failure.
If things turned dire, he would abandon the others and take Arya north himself.
The rest…
Their fate would be grim.
He had learned enough during the journey.
Aside from the three prisoners locked in chains, the others were just children.
Orphans.
Abandoned.
Some had been given to the Watch simply because their families couldn't feed them.
They weren't criminals.
They were victims.
Yoren's conscience stirred uneasily.
When he saw Stoney Sept in the distance, he made a decision.
One proper meal.
One safe night.
After that, whatever happened… happened.
He whispered silently to himself.
Old gods, bear witness. This is all I can give them.
Behind him, his men unloaded the prison wagon.
The man called Rorge worked alongside Lommy, pushing it toward the stable.
Rorge grumbled as he worked.
"They ought to leave those monsters in the sun. I hear they eat people."
Lommy snorted.
"Careful. One of them might bite your throat out."
"Shut up, you filthy thief," Rorge snapped.
…
Yoren stepped inside the inn, counting the few silver stags left in his purse.
He was already calculating how far they could stretch.
Then he noticed the innkeeper staring at him.
Not with annoyance.
But excitement.
Yoren had never seen that look before.
Innkeepers knew the truth.
The Night's Watch had no coin.
They were poorer than sellswords.
So why…
"Yes," Yoren said cautiously. "We're from the Watch."
The innkeeper suddenly grabbed his arm.
"My lord knight! They're here! The black cloaks are here!"
Yoren blinked in confusion.
Before he could respond, Jimmy's voice cut through the room.
"Barra."
She turned immediately.
"Yes, my lord?"
"Roast the rest of the lamb. Add pepper. Bring out everything you have."
He reached into his pouch and placed a gold dragon on the table.
The gleam of gold froze the room.
Eyes widened.
Breaths caught.
"Feed them well. Give them rooms. Whatever's left is yours."
Barra's eyes lit up as she snatched the coin.
Her smile turned radiant.
"Thank you, my lord knight."
She leaned closer, her voice playful.
"Would you like peaches served as well?"
The "peaches" she referred to weren't fruit.
They were the girls.
That was what the innkeeper called them.
Jimmy raised an eyebrow.
"Aren't black cloaks forbidden from indulging in that?"
Barra's smile faltered slightly. A flicker of disappointment crossed her face before she turned and walked away.
She could tell Jimmy was in a good mood.
Jimmy had never given his name or revealed his origin. So the people of the inn had settled on calling him something else.
Knight Lord.
The title had started with a stable boy.
The child had accidentally collided with Jimmy while running. Terrified, he dropped to his knees immediately, trembling as he begged forgiveness, calling him "my lord knight."
He had expected a blade.
Expected death.
Instead, Jimmy had simply brushed the dust from his clothes and said calmly,
"Be more careful next time."
Then he walked away.
From that moment on, the name stuck.
Knight Lord.
…
Yoren noticed him approaching.
A young man, richly dressed. Black hair. Blue eyes.
The confidence of power radiated from him.
"You're a black cloak from the Wall?" Jimmy asked.
His tone carried the casual authority of someone accustomed to obedience.
Yoren had seen this kind before.
"My lord," he said cautiously, "what business do you have with us?"
Jimmy shrugged.
"Nothing important."
His eyes swept across them.
"You're not worthy of knowing my name."
He spoke without malice. Only indifference.
"I've heard the Night's Watch is filled with thieves, killers, and criminals. Once, wearing black meant abandoning honor."
He paused.
"Now? I've never seen it for myself."
He tilted his head slightly.
"I came to see what kind of men you really are."
"And how you keep them in line."
Yoren stared at him.
There was no doubt about it.
This was some bored noble heir, chasing curiosity simply because he could.
Yoren's jaw tightened.
Why should he indulge this man's curiosity?
Coin meant nothing to the Watch.
But coins meant everything to survival.
He sighed inwardly.
"Yes, my lord," he said.
"There isn't much to see. Just a group of unruly men."
He gestured toward the wagon.
"The dangerous ones are kept in cages."
"If you wish to see them, follow me."
He paused.
"They're dangerous. Best if I'm present."
Yoren led Jimmy to the prison wagon.
Inside sat three prisoners.
One had no nose.
Another had no tongue, able only to hiss.
The third appeared normal.
But Jimmy saw what others could not.
Their eyes met.
Jaqen H'ghar.
His voice came softly.
"We meet again."
His gaze was filled with unmistakable caution.
"And someone has grown stronger."
Deep within Jimmy's eyes, a faint violet glow flickered.
Behind Jaqen, something stirred.
A shadow.
A figure.
A hood.
A skull.
The faint outline of the Stranger.
Jimmy smiled faintly.
"A familiar face."
He turned to Yoren.
"Release him."
His voice was calm.
"I'll vouch for him."
He paused.
"If he runs…"
Jimmy scanned the surroundings until he spotted a large stone near the wall.
He walked over.
Raised his fist.
And struck.
Boom!
The stone exploded into fragments.
Shattered completely.
And he had held back.
The sound echoed through the yard.
Yoren swallowed hard.
This wasn't a request.
This was mercy.
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