The festive atmosphere evaporated in an instant, replaced by a chill that seeped into everyone's bones.
They had thought this was merely a catastrophe confined to Westeros. Only now did they grasp, with mounting dread, that it was a fight for survival that threatened the entire world.
Lo Quen's expression remained unreadable as he spoke in an even tone. "So, Lady Melisandre, you're suggesting that I seek out the reincarnation of the legendary Azor Ahai, and rely on the Lightbringer in his hand to bring an end to the Long Night?"
He had known for a long time that the Long Night was far from simple.
The true leader of the Others had yet to show himself.
Still, Melisandre's brand of prophetic fervor left him faintly weary.
Melisandre nodded with solemn conviction. "Exactly, Your Grace. In recent days, R'hllor has granted me clearer guidance through the flames. The Prince of Prophecy is Jon Snow, son of Rhaegar Targaryen."
Lo Quen lifted a brow. "Jon Snow? If I remember correctly, he went beyond the Wall with your fellow red priests. His fate is still unknown."
"The visions in the flames reveal—"
Melisandre's voice was firm. "Jon Snow is not dead. He is alone, accompanied only by his Direwolf, moving through a tranquil, peaceful forest. That vision… is not in Westeros, but on the continent of Essos."
The corner of Lo Quen's mouth curved slightly. "I see. You want me to leave the Seven Kingdoms, which I've only just unified, cross the sea, and search for one man on the eastern continent? Lady, you've seen my power. Ice Dragons lay prostrate at my feet. The army of the Others was reduced to ash. I do not believe the Lord of Winter can muster anything greater than that."
Melisandre's crimson eyes fixed on him, her tone more serious than ever before. "Your Grace, do not underestimate the Cold God. Its power is born of the world's ultimate cold and death, the absolute opposite of light and warmth. Only R'hllor, the Lord of Light, can stand against it. The prophecy—"
"Enough!"
Lo Quen cut her off sharply. "When the Ice Dragons and the army of the Others descended upon us, it was I who defeated them, not your Lord of Light. If only the Lord of Light could save the world, as you claim, then Westeros would have fallen long ago. Put away your bewitching prophecies. Guards, escort Lady Melisandre out and let her cool her head."
Two men-at-arms stepped forward and politely invited Melisandre to leave.
The red priestess did not resist. She merely gave Lo Quen a long, searching look before turning away.
Low murmurs rippled through the hall as nobles whispered and scoffed at Melisandre's "alarmist talk." The mood of the victory banquet dimmed for a moment, but before long, the revelry resumed.
Arya, however, did not rejoin the celebration. She watched the direction Melisandre had gone, then quietly slipped out of the hall.
The banquet did not break up until deep into the night.
Lo Quen returned to the bedchambers at the top of the main keep. As he passed through the corridor leading to an open-air balcony, he saw that familiar crimson figure once again.
Melisandre seemed to have been waiting there.
She bowed deeply. "Your Grace, I had no intention of challenging your authority. But what I spoke of truly concerns the survival of the world."
Lo Quen did not answer her directly. Instead, he asked, "Lady Melisandre, you and Archmaester Marwyn have been studying the black stone for some time now. Tell me, what have you seen?"
Melisandre shook her head, a trace of puzzlement crossing her face. "Your Grace, I tried to peer into it with magic, but the black stone… it seems to absorb all light and all attempts to observe it. I see nothing at all. It is ancient, and… hollow."
Lo Quen smiled faintly and told her what had happened after Euron activated the black stone in Oldtown.
A flash of shock passed through Melisandre's red eyes. "That stone… it possesses such tremendous power?"
It was clearly far beyond anything she had imagined.
Lo Quen's expression hardened.
"Do you still believe the threat facing this world is nothing more than some vague, illusory 'God of Cold'? The secrets of these black stones may be far more worthy of investigation than that so-called Cold God. At the very least, the black stones are real and tangible, while the Cold God… has never truly revealed itself."
"The Others are its servants!"
Melisandre insisted.
"The Others?"
Lo Quen let out a cold laugh.
"When it comes to raising the dead, Lady Melisandre, what is the essential difference between your Lord of Light and the Others? Ser Marlon Manderly told me that Jon Snow's resurrection was the work of the Lord of Light, dragging a dead man back into the world. How is that any different from what the Others do?"
Melisandre was not surprised.
"My Lord returned him to life for a reason. It must serve a greater purpose."
Lo Quen looked at the red priestess, so deeply immersed in her prophecies, and shook his head.
"I'm sorry, but I have no interest in the plans of your 'Lord of Light.' I've already said it. I don't need any Prince foretold by prophecy. I will save my kingdom and my people with my own strength. As for the East, I will return there. It is my homeland. Even without the threat of the Others, I would still go back to end the chaos and establish a new order."
Instead of arguing, Melisandre smiled faintly.
"Then, Your Grace, when you set foot upon the lands of the East, you will witness the reality of the Cold God's threat with your own eyes. When that time comes, you will understand that only the Lord of Light can bring final victory."
Lo Quen paused.
"You're leaving the Seven Kingdoms?"
Melisandre nodded.
"Yes, Your Grace. I will depart for Essos tomorrow. Since you refuse to seek out the Prince of Prophecy, then… I will find Jon Snow myself and guide him to fulfill his mission."
Lo Quen waved a hand, his tone indifferent.
"Go, then. I wish you luck."
He said nothing more and turned toward his chambers, leaving Melisandre standing alone on the balcony, gazing for a long while at his retreating figure as the cold wind whipped around her. An unreadable light flickered in her crimson eyes.
Back in the warm, spacious bedchamber, Daenerys, Jaelena, Janice, and Chai Yiq, the four queens, had already been waiting for him. With the threat of the Others temporarily lifted, their tightly wound nerves could finally ease.
...
The next morning dawned beneath a dim sky. The sun rose later than ever, its light weak and listless.
Melisandre's prophecy had come true.
The Long Night was not over. This was only a brief lull.
Davos went to Melisandre's quarters and found them already empty. Arya was gone as well.
Lo Quen did not send anyone to pursue them. He knew of Arya's bond with Jon and understood that she had likely followed Melisandre in search of him.
He summoned his commanders and issued his orders.
Using the wildlings under Mance Rayder and conscripted farmers, construction began at the Neck on a reduced version of the Wall. Relying on the trenches dug by the ice giants around Moat Cailin, a new defensive line was established to guard against future threats.
Once everything was arranged, Lo Quen personally led the majority of the nobles and the army south to Storm's End.
Storm's End and the Eyrie were now nearly the only two Great Lord castles in the Seven Kingdoms that had not changed hands through bloodshed.
Lo Quen had long since made his decision regarding the Stormlands.
They would be incorporated into the Crownlands and placed under the king's direct rule.
Because of Euron's sudden attack, this decision had not previously been announced to the nobles. Now that it was made public, no one dared question it.
Even Davos wisely kept silent and fully accepted the king's will.
At the same time, Dragonstone was formally reclaimed by the crown.
Princess Selyse, Stannis's widow, and their daughter Shireen were temporarily settled at Storm's End under proper protection.
Once the situation was completely stabilized, they would be sent to Brightwater Keep, the seat of Selyse's natal house, House Florent. The castle there remained intact and was more than sufficient to ensure their safety.
In addition, Lo Quen ordered the newly returned Morosh and Roro, who had considerable experience in naval warfare, to lead the Third Daughter's fleet to the Iron Islands. It was time to settle accounts with the rebellious Ironborn.
Lo Quen's command to the two men was clear.
After taking the Iron Islands, any Ironborn who surrendered were to be sent to Moat Cailin to build the walls. Those who refused were to be executed on the spot.
The Ironborn had committed far too many sins. They deserved no mercy.