Dragonstone.
This was originally the fiefdom of the Targaryen Family, who had arrived in exile from the Valyrian Freehold.
After "The Conqueror" Aegon Targaryen I and his two sisters conquered Westeros atop their giant dragons, this place was traditionally enfeoffed to the heir to the throne, known as the "Prince of Dragonstone."
During the War of the Usurper provoked by Robert and Eddard, the remaining members of the Targaryen Family, having lost their dragons, fled here. Queen Rhaella, the mother of Jaina and Daenerys, also died from complications during childbirth after giving birth to the sisters.
Robert's younger brother, Stannis Baratheon, sat in the high seat, staring solemnly at the stunning red-haired woman standing in the hall.
He was not moved by her beautiful appearance; those who knew Stannis knew his personality was completely different from his two brothers of the same blood, and instead more similar to the lord of winterfell, Eddard Stark.
But compared to Eddard, Stannis was even more solemn, serious, and lacking a sense of humor. His tall and burly frame made his martial prowess not at all inferior to Robert in his youth.
"If Robert is true steel, then Stannis is pure iron—black, hard, and strong, but also brittle. Like iron, he will break before he bends. As for Renly, he is like shiny copper—pretty to look at, but ultimately not worth much."
This was the evaluation of the three Baratheon brothers by the blacksmith Donal Noye, who knew them intimately.
"You are saying that the Lady of Winterfell, Catelyn Tully, met a tragic end at the hands of the Lannisters on her way back to the North?"
"And you are the spokesperson for the lord of light, coming to Dragonstone to find me because I am the Reincarnation of the legendary Bringer of Light, Azor Ahai?"
Speaking words that ordinary people could not comprehend at all, Stannis's serious Face showed no expression, but anyone could hear the skepticism in his voice.
"That is correct, Lord Stannis."
Facing Stannis's sharp questioning, Melisandre, dressed in a long red robe, looked at him with burning eyes and replied with absolute certainty:
"Evil heretics have begun to emerge. I have come here under the guidance of my King."
Her right hand lightly touched the table, her enchanting figure moving with the steps of a brothel's top courtesan. Such seductive and wanton movements on her, however, manifested a hint of the divine:
"I will serve you with all my heart and soul, helping you gradually reclaim the power sufficient to defeat the ancient Great Other."
"You can speak from where you stand, my lady."
Just as Melisandre was about to walk up to Stannis, Ser Davos Seaworth, who had been standing quietly nearby, loyally stepped in front of her.
"Please maintain your distance from Lord Stannis."
Davos, who had an ordinary appearance and a thin build, possessed courage beyond the norm. His brown eyes stared fixedly at the strange woman before him, the warning in his gaze clear without words.
Though he had made his fortune as a smuggler, he deeply admired Stannis for his clear sense of rewards and punishments.
During the War of the Usurper, this smuggler had relied on his unique advantages to bring supplies to the besieged Stannis. Yet, after the war, Stannis had sentenced him for his previous crimes by cutting off the first joint of every finger on his left hand except the thumb.
However, after this incident, Davos became even more firm in his loyalty to Stannis; he knew that being loyal to a man who was just in rewards and punishments could never be wrong.
To this end, the man even put the severed joints into a leather pouch and wore it around his neck as a lucky charm.
"Your loyalty is admirable, Ser Davos."
Melisandre was not stingy with her praise; for her, the more loyal subordinates Stannis had like this, the higher the success rate of their plan would be.
"You may leave for now, Lady Priestess."
"This is a matter of great importance; please give us a moment."
Stannis had never had a good impression of these people who dealt in mysticism, but the woman had indeed brought Catelyn's body. Out of caution, he decided to discuss it with his subordinate.
Since he had already dismissed her, Melisandre knew that making Stannis believe in her would take time. At the very least, she had to let him witness the great power of the lord of light first.
"However, I ask that you make a decision as soon as possible."
She turned around decisively and strode out of the hall, leaving behind only a sentence of half-urging:
"Time waits for no one. The heretics... have already invaded King's Landing."
..."Ser Davos, what do you think of this matter?"
After Melisandre left, the solemn Stannis began to seek his subordinate's opinion. His expression was as inflexible as thousand-year-old ice, even in front of those close to him.
"This is simply too preposterous, my lord."
"Setting aside the fact that House Lannister and House Stark have no enmity, even if the truth were indeed so, this involves a conflict between two Great Houses. If handled improperly, I fear there is a danger of inciting war."
"And... it cannot be ruled out that this woman who appeared out of nowhere is the killer, murdering Lady Catelyn and then sowing discord between the two sides."
As Stannis's most trusted advisor, Davos's way of considering problems was always very rational. He knew that every suggestion he made was crucial for the current duke of dragonstone.
Furthermore, even if Melisandre was telling the truth, with the warden of the north on one side and the warden of the west on the other, as long as both sides wanted to fight, all of Westeros would be swept up in the fires of war.
This was by no means alarmist!
Despite the fact that the continent of Westeros had been at peace for over a decade since the War of the Usurper, these Great Houses would do anything for the sake of their Face.
Not to mention, the current leader of the West is Tywin, the man who single-handedly orchestrated 'the rains of castamere'.
"You have a point."
Nodding in agreement, Stannis then began to analyze carefully:
"However, the state of Lady Catelyn's remains is indeed strange. Logically, after so many days, the body should have decayed, but she is as if frozen by unmelting ice."
"If that strange witch were the true killer, wanting to provoke a war between the two Great Houses to profit from it, why not take the body directly to King's Landing to find Robert?"
"One must remember, the Lord of Winterfell is currently in King's Landing, serving as Robert's Hand of the King."
This matter was truly too bizarre; even after discussing it for a long time, the two could not come up with a solution.
"Let us do this, Ser Davos."
Lightly rubbing his throbbing temples, Stannis, out of consideration for the laws of the realm, decided to inform the King of this matter first.
"You shall take Lady Catelyn's remains by ship to King's Landing."
"Regardless, the person is dead; we must let Lord Eddard grieve."
"In addition, notify all fleets to immediately enter a state of combat readiness, prepared at any time to face war and defend King's Landing."
"Whether the North and the West start fighting or not, it must not affect the Crownlands!"
...The North, Winterfell.
Bran, who was permanently disabled due to a broken spine, lay on his bed.
He seemed to be taking a nap, but if one looked closely, they would see his eyelids rolled up, leaving only the whites of his eyes.
This was a newly discovered ability of his.
Ever since Maester Luwin pronounced that he would never stand again, Bran was surprised to find that in his dreams, he could always unconsciously possess his Direwolf, Summer.
With the help of Summer's limbs, he could run recklessly through the forest, even hunting.
As usual, Bran took the opportunity of his nap to possess Summer again, exploring around Winterfell.
But in the midst of it, he seemed to hear a voice calling to him. He couldn't help but control Summer's body, running swiftly toward the direction the voice guided him.
"It's Mother!"
Running closer and closer, finally hearing that familiar voice clearly, Bran could not hide the excitement in his heart.
Since waking up, he had never seen Catelyn again.
Both Maester Luwin and his eldest brother Robb said that Mother had gone to do something very important.
But being only a ten-year-old child, Bran could not understand what matter could be important enough for a mother to cruelly leave her unconscious son behind.
"Mother!"
Though he had some resentment in his heart, thinking that Catelyn had returned to Winterfell, he could not wait to break into a run toward the front.
But as he ran, Bran noticed something was wrong.
Old, heavy doors made of ironwood, cold, dark, narrow, and winding stone spiral stairs... this was the crypt!
"No... it can't be!"
The uneasy premonition in his heart grew stronger. Four wolf paws raced down the spiral stairs, down and down!
"Bran, you're here."
To his surprise, a small figure was already waiting for him in the crypt.
Eddard Stark's youngest son, Rickon, with his chestnut curls, stared straight at Summer with bright, large eyes, seemingly recognizing his brother.
Beside him, a black Direwolf about the same size as Summer sat obediently on the ground accompanying him. That was the smartest wolf among the siblings; Rickon had named it Shaggydog.
"Mother is back, Bran."
Looking at the anxious look in Summer's wolf eyes, the five-year-old Rickon showed an innocent smile.
Being so young, he did not know what death meant; he only knew that Mother had returned to Winterfell, back to her children.
"Look, she's right there!"
Rickon smiled happily, stood up, and pointed forward. Bran looked in the direction of his finger and saw that on the originally blank wall, there seemed to be a familiar figure smiling at him.
"MOTHER!!!!"
...Waking up from the dream in terror, Bran gasped for breath, struggling to climb up but falling to the ground, his hands pulling him toward the door.
"What is it, Bran?"
The old woman responsible for taking care of him heard the noise inside, pushed the door open, and seeing this scene, hurried forward to pick him up and place him on the bed.
"Let me find Robb, take me to find Robb quickly!"
Bran cried out anxiously, his hands waving wildly in the air, intense grief making it impossible for him to remain rational.
"Young Master Robb and Maester Luwin are discussing matters. How about you drink some water first, and I'll take you to them in a while, okay?"
The old woman soothed him gently, her kind eyes full of pity.
This poor little fellow had been emotionally unstable since he broke his legs; it seemed he had another nightmare.
"No! I don't want water! Please, I want to find Robb!"
But the usually well-behaved Bran kept crying and struggling; no matter how she comforted him, it was useless.
"Your brother is looking for you, Bran."
Just as she didn't know what to do, a worried Maester Luwin appeared at the door. Seeing Bran's crying state, the sorrow in his eyes could not be hidden.
He gently took him from the old woman's arms, looked at Bran who seemed to have realized something, and sighed softly.
He never expected such a great upheaval to occur in House Stark.
Carrying Bran into the Great Hall of the inner keep, he saw Eddard's eldest son, Robb Stark, already sitting in the high seat with tears in his eyes. On either side of him stood several of House Stark's retainers with angry expressions.
"Where is Rickon?"
Seeing Bran being carried in by Maester Luwin, Robb asked in a choked voice.
"Rickon is in the crypts, Robb!"
Before Maester Luwin could answer, Bran spoke up impatiently, cutting him off.
"Rickon and I both saw Mother in the crypts. Tell me, has something happened to her?"
Though puzzled by Bran's words, now was not the time to look into such matters.
Closing his blue eyes—eyes just like Catelyn's—hot tears fell uncontrollably. Though this auburn-haired youth was mature for his age, he was, after all, only fifteen.
"Yes, Mother... something has happened to her."
"Is she dead?"
Seeing Robb's expression, Bran asked anxiously, but received no response from anyone.
At that moment, a lean man with dark brown hair stood up from Robb's side. Gripping the hilt of the sword at his waist, he walked slowly to Bran and gently stroked his hair, his voice slightly choked with emotion.
"Yes, Bran, Lady Catelyn is gone. She was assassinated by that ugly Lannister demon!"
Having grown up in House Stark since childhood, Theon Greyjoy had long considered himself a member of the family. Learning of Catelyn's murder was equally painful for him.
But for some reason, seeing everyone plunged into grief, Theon felt an indescribable sense of gratification deep within his heart.
Quickly suppressing this rebellious thought, he raised his fist and roared with righteous indignation.
"We must avenge Lady Catelyn!"
"The honor of the North shall not be trampled upon!"
His call to arms was met with the approval of House Stark's bannermen, who raised their weapons in unison.
"Call the banners! March to the Westerlands!"
"Make those damned Lannisters pay with their lives!"
Immersed in their vengeful fury, the crowd failed to notice Bran, who was still consumed by grief.
"Enough!"
Only Robb, the elder brother, saw the pain in his brother's eyes. He quickly silenced the crowd. Though his voice was still choked, his steady demeanor already showed the poise of the heir to Winterfell.
"The letter from The Spider says that Father does not know about this yet."
"Regardless, we must first inform Father of Mother's death. It is for him to decide whether to go to war."
"Maester Luwin."
Sitting in the high seat as the acting Lord of Winterfell, he began to issue orders methodically.
"Please send a raven to King's Landing immediately. Father must resign from his position as Hand of the King and return to Winterfell at once with Sansa and Arya, lest the Lannisters do something desperate and use them as hostages to threaten us."
"I will see to it at once, young master."
"Theon."
Once Maester Luwin had taken his leave, Robb turned to the Stark ward.
Hearing his name, Theon immediately walked to Robb and knelt on one knee with his head bowed, appearing utterly loyal.
"In my name, go to the lands of all the bannermen in the North. Have them call their men and be ready for war at any moment!"
He slammed his fist onto the table. His fierce gaze was identical to that of Grey Wind beside him, like a wolf ready to devour its prey.
"No matter what, the Lannisters must give us an explanation!"
"Yes, Lord Robb!"
Having received his orders, Theon stood up with great satisfaction. Although he was a ward, he was essentially a hostage at Winterfell and had always felt slighted. The coming war was the stage he needed to prove himself.
"Mother has already come back, Robb."
Just as everyone was fired up for the potential war, Rickon's small figure suddenly appeared at the door. His clear voice instantly caught everyone's attention.
"What did you say, Rickon?"
Robb stood up, walked over to him, and gently picked up his young brother as he asked in confusion.
"I said, Mother has already come back."
"She said it's very warm sleeping in the crypts, not cold anymore."
Staring at Robb with innocent eyes, Rickon asked in confusion:
"Since Mother is back, why are we going to war?"
..."Why must we go to war?"
Inside Casterly Rock, Tywin, having received the letter from Arthas, immediately summoned the Lannisters to discuss the matter.
Among the solemn expressions of the crowd, only Stafford Lannister looked relaxed, as if this were a very easy matter to resolve.
"Why must we go to war, Tywin?"
Stafford declared his opinion loudly, swaying his head so that his long golden hair whipped back and forth.
"Tyrion was the one who caused this mess in the first place. Why not just hand him over to Eddard Stark?"
"If you ask me, that disgusting dwarf should have died long ago. Keeping him around only brings constant trouble to the great House Lannister."
For the not-so-bright Stafford, his attitude toward The Imp was surprisingly consistent with Tywin's; both felt this ugly, small creature was the murderer of Joanna.
"Mind your words, Stafford."
Kevan looked at the loose-tongued man with helplessness and warned him again.
While it was indeed the best way to solve the problem—and the words resonated deeply with Tywin's inner thoughts—it wasn't something to be said in front of so many people.
Moreover... looking at Tywin, whose eyes were slightly narrowed and whose face showed no expression, Kevan knew this fellow had just made a major blunder while trying to flatter him.
"What? Am I wrong, Kevan?"
Facing Kevan's well-intentioned warning, Stafford showed no gratitude. Seeing that Tywin hadn't spoken up to stop him, he thought he had finally found the right direction.
"As long as Tyrion remains a Lannister, he will forever be the shame of House Lannister."
"Now that he's caused such a disaster, it's the perfect chance to let House Stark execute him openly. It solves a major problem for us as well—killing two birds with one stone."
As he spoke, the smug look on Stafford's face became more pronounced. He thought to himself that since he had spoken so well, Tywin would surely return the income from his lands.
If he didn't get some income soon, he wouldn't even have a copper left on him.
"I'm tired. Just let it all burn."
Looking at the confidently rambling Stafford, Kevan only felt a deep weariness in his heart.
Why could this damned fellow never learn to read the room or judge the situation?
Good advice cannot save the suicidally foolish. Having saved him once but unable to save him a second time, Kevan decided to stop talking and let Stafford walk to his own doom.
"You have spoken well, Stafford."
When the others at the table fell into a deep silence, Tywin finally stood up with a gentle smile.
"Oh, Tywin."
"You know, I'm only looking out for the interests of House Lannister. It's no big deal."
Seeing Tywin's kind expression, Stafford became even more certain he was right, responding with a hint of modesty.
"I said you spoke well, and you spoke very well indeed!"
The sudden intensification of Tywin's tone made Stafford's heart skip a beat. He instantly wiped the smug look from his face and shrank back awkwardly.
Though he didn't know how he had offended Tywin again, that tone certainly didn't sound happy.
"Everyone agrees that Ser Stafford is right, don't they?"
His sharp gaze swept over the crowd. No one dared to meet his eyes; they all lowered their heads deeply and quickly murmured their agreement.
Tywin stood up and walked slowly toward Stafford, his footsteps sounding exceptionally harsh in the silent room.
"Ser Stafford, it is wonderful that you can contribute so much to House Lannister."
He patted him gently on the shoulder, his expression showing great appreciation.
"Since no one objects, I have decided that Stafford will personally go to King's Landing to confess to the Hand of the King and Lord of Winterfell, Eddard Stark, the crime of murdering Duchess Catelyn Tully. He will then request to be executed before the Baylor Great Sept to earn his forgiveness!"
"I... I... Tywin, that's not what I meant!"
His face turning bright red, Stafford quickly spoke up to protest.
"Then what did you mean!"
Tywin angrily grabbed him by his long golden hair and hauled him up from his stool to face him, roaring like a lion defending its territory.
"Look at your hair! This is Lannister gold!"
"And everyone sitting here is a Lannister with the same hair color!"
He slammed Stafford back onto his stool and glared at the crowd with disappointment.
"House Lannister has stood for thousands of years. Why have we remained unshakable in Casterly Rock?"
"It is through unity, wisdom, and the courage to face powerful enemies!"
"Now, before the Starks have even come to demand justice, every one of you is so frightened that you want to take the initiative to beg for mercy, and even hand over a Lannister to buy their forgiveness!"
"Today I could hand over Tyrion, but what about later?"
"Will we hand over a Lannister to our opponents every time something goes wrong, and let them slaughter us at will?"
"Forgive my bluntness, everyone."
"I fear you cannot sire children faster than the enemy's blade can fall!"
After finishing his final sentence, Tywin slowly sat down, but his gaze toward the crowd remained hostile.
These people had been at peace for too long. House Lannister had been at peace for too long.
Long-term peace had caused these pampered individuals to lose the courage to fight powerful enemies head-on. When faced with problems, they only thought of escaping and protecting their own interests.
True, he did not like The Imp; in fact, he loathed him.
If he were to obediently hand him over to the Starks today, it might indeed prevent a war from breaking out.
But it would also mean that for years, or even decades to come, House Lannister would be subservient to them!
In the future, bards would no longer sing 'the rains of castamere,' but would instead compose a song called 'The Cowardice of the Lannisters'!
He did not want House Lannister to return to that humiliating era when his father ruled, the era when they were called the 'Laughing Lions.'
"However, Tywin."
While everyone else sat in trepidation, heads bowed and afraid to provoke Tywin's ire, Kevan, out of rational consideration, was the first to speak up and remind him:
"We must give Eddard Stark an explanation for this matter."
"If it is not handled well, those northern savages will not stand for their Duchess dying so mysteriously."
"I know, Kevan."
He shot another annoyed glare at the trembling Stafford. In Stafford's despairing eyes, Tywin's next words sounded like a death sentence.
"Just as I said, let Stafford go to King's Landing and take the blame."
"But... Tywin, Eddard Stark couldn't possibly believe that Stafford, who was far away in the Westerlands, did it."
"It doesn't matter whether he believes it or not. I've given him a way out."
He placed his hands proudly on the table as if it were a giant chessboard and everyone were his pieces.
"If Eddard Stark takes that way out, then all is well. We can not only apologize but also compensate them with a large sum of Gold Dragons."
"The condition is that this damned fellow must take the black and go to the Wall."
They were family after all. Despite his immense displeasure with Stafford, Tywin still decided to spare his life.
"And what if he doesn't take that way out?"
"Hmph..."
Facing Kevan's inquiry, Tywin merely cast a burning gaze toward the east. The sunlight spilled onto his golden sideburns, making them shine like a lion's mane.
"Pass down the order to assemble the entire army of the West."
"As long as Eddard Stark dares to turn against us, then make sure he and those two little wolf cubs never return to the North."
"Don't forget, King's Landing is now almost entirely in the hands of House Lannister!"
"Holding three hostages from House Stark, I believe those brainless fools in the North wouldn't dare to march their army against us, no matter how stupid they are."
"When the time comes, I'll bite a huge chunk of meat off them!"
..."This roasted mutton is truly delicious, Lord Arthas."
While the North and the West were in utter chaos due to Catelyn's death, Arthas was leisurely enjoying barbecue in the gardens of the Red Keep.
"If you like it, eat some more, Young Miss Sansa."
Watching Sansa, who was pretending to be elegant and taking small bites of the barbecue, he wore a kind smile and considerately wiped the grease from the corner of her mouth with his hand.
Seeing her eat with such relish, the kind lich king truly couldn't bear to tell the young girl that this was actually wolf meat.
Since using Sansa that day, Arthas had very gentlemanly sent the unconscious girl back; this lucky little she-wolf hadn't suffered any harm in his contest with the lord of light, she was simply drunk.
Now, almost all of Westeros was in a state of turmoil because of Catelyn's death, and only King's Landing, with its information blockade, remained calm for the moment.
"But... I'm afraid the peace won't last long."
Estimating the time, the news should reach King's Landing soon, perhaps tomorrow, or perhaps... today.
Shaking his head and putting these boring matters aside for now, he turned to look at the Hound standing straight beside him, as if he were his own personal bodyguard.
"Hey, Clegane."
"Want some?"
He waved the barbecue in his hand; the wolf that fellow Gendry had hunted back yesterday was truly large enough that two people couldn't finish it.
"No thank you, Lord Arthas."
Faced with Arthas's invitation, the Hound remained sensible, standing still and looking straight ahead, allowing the two of them to enjoy their peaceful time.
"Young Miss Sansa, Young Miss Sansa!"
While the two were talking and laughing, eating happily, Jory Cassel, the captain of Eddard Stark's guards, rushed in.
"You are being quite rude, Jory."
With a slight frown, Sansa was very dissatisfied that he had interrupted her date with Arthas and complained:
"This is not the North, please put away your rudeness."
"Please forgive me, Lord Arthas, Young Miss Sansa."
"It is truly urgent; Lord Eddard Stark is looking for Young Miss Sansa to return."
Faced with Sansa's reproach, even though Jory Cassel was in a great hurry, he had to bow his head before Arthas.
After all, the other party was both the Commander of the Gold Cloaks and the first knight of the seven kingdoms; he couldn't afford to offend him in any way.
"It's alright, Jory."
With a generous wave of his hand, Arthas could guess without being told why Eddard was so anxious to call his daughter back.
The news had likely already reached Eddard's ears.
Seeing that the girl was still somewhat reluctant to leave, he had to gently pat Sansa's arm and softly advise her:
"I'm sure Lord Stark has something very important; you should head back first."
"If you really love this barbecue, I can have someone send it to you in a while."
With things said, Sansa had no reason to stay, so she cast a reluctant glance at Arthas and unwillingly followed Jory away.
"You're not guarding Joffrey; why have you come specifically to find me, Hound?"
After watching the two leave, Arthas asked the Hound without turning his head.
"His Highness Joffrey asked me to find someone to assassinate you, my lord."
Without any concealment, the Hound bluntly betrayed the prince he was protecting.
"Heh, interesting."
Turning around to look at this fellow whose face was hideously burned on one side, he hadn't expected House Clegane to produce such an interesting person.
"You've followed Joffrey for so long, and you just betray him like that?"
"My loyalty is to Lannister, not the royal family, my lord."
Straightening his chest again, the Hound answered righteously.
"Furthermore, for him to actually imagine assassinating the Commander of the Gold Cloaks and the first knight of the seven kingdoms in King's Landing, His Highness's intelligence seems to be slightly below that of a normal person."
Seeing that Arthas didn't seem angry, the Hound thought to himself that he had gambled correctly, and even grew bold enough to make a joke.
"Hahaha~"
"I must say, Hound."
"You are much more interesting than that clumsy bear of a brother of yours."
Speaking of the Mountain, Arthas seemed to remember something and cast his gaze at the hideous scar on the other's head:
"I heard the scars on your face were caused by the Mountain?"
"Yes, my lord."
Although he had always had a strong psychological shadow over this scar, causing him to be so afraid of fire now that he couldn't even hold a sword steadily, he still admitted it without hesitation when facing Arthas, who was ten thousand times more terrifying than the Mountain:
"When I was a child, because I touched that fellow's toy, he pressed my head into a brazier."
"I was only seven then, and that damned fellow was already twelve."
"If it were now, I would definitely be able to cut off his head in a direct fight!"
Gently stroking the scar on his face, it was as if he were making a promise to Arthas, or perhaps swearing an oath to himself.
"But I might have to disappoint your hopes, Sandor Clegane."
Calling him by his full name for once, Arthas smiled as he spoke to him:
"You no longer have the chance to face him in a direct duel."
"I know, my lord. The Mountain has sworn fealty to you; I will not move against him."
"No, no, no..."
Arthas shook his head: "You've misunderstood my meaning."
Under the Hound's incredulous gaze, he continued:
"The Mountain, he has died in the Riverlands."
..."The Mountain died in the Riverlands, Robert."
Inside the Tower of the Hand, Robert, who had been hurriedly summoned by Eddard, had a look of fury on his Face as he listened to his friend's sorrowful lament:
"Found along with him were the bodies of Ser Rodrik and a group of Riverlands knights!"
"Now Catelyn is missing; it's said someone saw her body, which means she has likely met a cruel end at the hands of the Lannisters!"
Waving the message brought by the raven in his hand, Eddard spoke through tears.
Although he had married his late brother's fiancée out of duty, after living together for over a decade and having five children, the bond between him and Catelyn had long been unbreakable.
Now that such tragic news had arrived, even this man of iron was somewhat unable to hold himself together.
He was now filled with immense regret; if he had listened to Catelyn and refused Robert's request to come to King's Landing, perhaps this tragedy would not have occurred.
"Seven Gods, what on earth is going on?"
"Wasn't Catelyn doing fine in Winterfell? How could something have happened to her in the Riverlands, Ned?"
"Shouldn't you properly verify the source of the information? Don't let some rumor-mongering scoundrel take advantage of the situation."
Though he deeply sympathized with Eddard's plight, Robert still cautiously advised him to remain rational.
"The letter came from Winterfell, Robert!"
A man does not easily shed tears, especially a tough Northerner like Eddard, but in his heartbreak, tears as large as beans kept falling, like a little girl who had lost her support.
It was likely only before Robert, his friend of many years, that Eddard would show his vulnerable side.
"Alright, Ned."
Sighing softly, Robert gently held his shoulders and helped the grieving man into a chair, then asked with a firm tone:
"What do you want me to do?"
His eyes were clear, as if after years of hangovers, he had finally sobered up once more:
"It was I who called you from Winterfell, Ned."
"Without my strong insistence, this surely wouldn't have happened to you."
"Catelyn was not just your wife, but my friend as well."
"As long as you speak, I will grant whatever request you have!"
Looking at his lifelong friend, Eddard seemed to remember something; he walked to his desk and picked up an anonymous letter that had arrived that morning, his voice hurried and filled with hatred:
"It's Tyrion Lannister!"
"That shameless demon! While he was a guest at Winterfell, he not only sent an assassin to kill my ten-year-old son Bran but also brutally murdered Catelyn in the Riverlands!"
"When I saw this letter this morning, I thought it was just a prank by some blind fool, but once the raven from Winterfell arrived, I knew everything it said was true."
"You are the King, Robert!"
With the matter involving the Lannisters, Eddard knew they were at a total disadvantage after the recent power struggle with Arthas, and he saw a flash of hesitation in Robert's eyes.
He stood up and gripped Robert's shoulders tightly, saying sternly:
"I want you to proclaim to the Seven Kingdoms and inform all the nobles of Westeros of Tyrion Lannister's atrocities!"
"Then order the Lannisters to hand over the murderer immediately and Face a trial of justice before everyone in King's Landing!"
"Don't hesitate any longer!"
Seeing Robert still hesitating, Eddard gave him an ultimatum:
"If you are unwilling to help me, then I shall immediately resign from my position as hand of the king and depart for the North at once."
"When that happens, all of Westeros will be plunged into the fires of war!"
"Oh, Seven Gods!"
As if finally having made up his mind, Robert stood up abruptly and slammed his fist on the table, actually breaking off a corner of the hard wood:
"Don't mention resignation to me again, Ned."
"It's just the Lannisters, what is there to fear!"
"Tywin is nothing but a senile old man in his sixties; he's probably about to lose all his teeth."
"Though Arthas is called the first knight of the seven kingdoms, he's just a green boy who hasn't even grown his full coat yet!"
"Even the Targaryen Dynasty, as strong as it was, wasn't it still smashed to pieces by the two of us brothers working together?"
"I don't believe for a second that House Lannister would risk being besieged by the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms just to protect a useless dwarf!"
"Thank you, Robert!"
Moved by Robert's words, Eddard stood up and tightly embraced his lifelong friend.
But he didn't notice that in Robert's eyes, a faint glimmer of ghostly blue light quietly flickered...
Full collection Avilable at low subscription patreon (Obito_uchiha)
50% Offers are going on claim yours as soon as possible