Inside the Throne Room.
Robert Baratheon's roar, a mix of betrayal, anger, and disbelief, was like the mournful cry of a wounded stag, making everyone's eardrums ache.
The air was thick with the scent of blood and spilled wine.
Everyone's gaze was fixed on the pale-faced, golden-haired woman in luxurious robes.
Cersei Lannister.
The Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.
Her beautiful blue eyes were filled with confusion and absurdity.
Her mind was blank, completely unable to comprehend the incredible scene before her.
Assassinate Robert?
Assassinate her own son, Joffrey?
For the House Lannister?
What a malicious and foolish frame-up!
"Cersei—!!!"
Robert's bloodshot eyes glared at her, his bloated body trembling violently with extreme rage.
He advanced towards her like a thoroughly enraged bull, each step making the flagstones beneath his feet groan under the weight.
"You venomous woman!"
Robert's spittle almost sprayed onto Cersei's face.
"I should have known! I should have listened to Jon!"
"You Lannister people, you all have viper's blood flowing in your veins!"
"You actually tried to kill your own son!"
"Do you have any humanity left?!"
This accusation finally jolted Cersei awake from her shock.
The absurdity and shock faded, replaced by the House Lannister's inherent pride, and the indignation and fury of being publicly humiliated.
"I killed Joffrey?"
Cersei let out a shrill sneer.
"Robert, has the alcohol burned out your brain?!"
"You'd rather believe a bug that crawled out of a flea-ridden nest than your wife, with whom you've shared a bed for over a decade?!"
"Joffrey is my son! My own flesh and blood!"
Her defense, to the enraged Robert, was like adding fuel to the fire.
"Shut up!"
Robert raised his large, fan-like hand.
Before the slap could fall, a golden figure stepped between them.
It was Jaime Lannister.
He didn't even turn to look at his sister, merely gripping the still-dripping longsword with one hand, his snow-white Kingsguard armor blocking the King and Queen from each other.
"Your Majesty, please calm down."
Jaime's voice was steady.
"The matter has not yet been investigated; the assassin's words cannot be easily trusted."
Robert looked at the handsome face before him, seven-tenths similar to Cersei's, and his fury burned even brighter.
"If you hadn't killed that assassin with a single sword stroke, would I have easily believed his words?"
"If you Lannister people had nothing to hide, would you have stabbed him to death before he could finish speaking?"
"Get out of my way! Kingslayer!"
"All of you Lannister people deserve to go to hell!"
"Guards! Seize this venomous woman and throw her into the dungeon!" Robert roared, giving the order.
Hearing Robert call him Kingslayer, Jaime's face also showed some discomfort.
It was Robert who had pardoned him and allowed him to continue serving in the Kingsguard.
Now Robert was saying such things again.
If it weren't for the people in the city, would he have borne such infamy?
If he hadn't killed the Mad King, the entire city, along with everything in it, would have been consumed by wildfire!
The surrounding Gold Cloaks exchanged glances, and for a moment, no one dared to step forward.
One was the King, the other the Queen.
This was no longer an assassination, but a sign of the imminent tearing apart of the royal family!
Ned Stark stood rooted to the spot, his palms slick with cold sweat.
His heart pounded as he watched the almost uncontrolled scene before him.
Too fast!
Everything had happened too quickly!
Lynn!
The name flashed through his mind.
All of this was very likely Lynn's doing!
He had just left under the pretext of "excessive consumption of arcane energy," and then the assassin walked into the trap, precisely implicating Cersei!
Ned's mind raced.
If that assassin had succeeded in assassinating Joffrey today.
Then... Ned completely hid the shock on his face.
If Joffrey and Sansa were attacked while out, then Cersei would definitely target him!
What should have been a battle between the wolf and the lion had now turned into a struggle between the stag and the lion, and he seemed to have been excluded?
And since none of Joffrey's three children were Robert's, the Baratheon and Lannister families would fall out sooner or later.
So the first step was to kick all irrelevant people out of the game... This method, this strategy... was practically manipulating everyone's destiny invisibly.
He knew that Lynn had prophetic abilities, and perhaps he had other unknown methods!
It seemed he would have to ask Lynn when he returned if this was indeed his doing!
"Your Majesty!"
Just then, an old and steady voice rang out.
"The Undaunted" Ser Barristan Selmy.
The highly respected Lord Commander of the Kingsguard stepped forward and knelt on one knee.
"The Queen's alleged crime is of grave importance, and the words of a mere assassin are insufficient to condemn her."
"I humbly request Your Majesty to temporarily confine the Queen to Maegor's Holdfast, under the joint custody of the City Watch and the Kingsguard, to await a thorough interrogation before making a decision."
The old knight's words somewhat cooled Robert's anger.
He glanced at Barristan kneeling on the ground, then at Cersei, who was protected behind Jaime, his chest heaving violently.
After a long moment, he squeezed out a single word from between his teeth.
"Good!"
Having said that, Robert seemed to have been drained of all his strength, slumping back onto the Iron Throne, and waving his hand wearily.
"Get out! All of you, get out!"
...Inside the tower bedroom.
Lynn sat quietly by the window.
The commotion in the Red Keep, the roars from the Throne Room, all clearly reached his ears.
He knew that the pebble he had cast had stirred up enough ripples.
Littlefinger's carefully planned "Wolf-Lion Struggle" had been forcibly twisted by him into a "Stag-Lion Struggle."
Although only temporary, this was enough to send the House Lannister's prestige in King's Landing plummeting to rock bottom, and it bought Ned valuable time.
More importantly, Joffrey owed him a huge favor.
Joffrey was a spoiled child, typically narrow-minded.
If you offended him, he would go to great lengths to torment you.
But if you saved him, he would actually admire you.
All young masters are like that.
Perhaps, in the future, Joffrey would also prove to be of great use.
For example, accidentally stumbling upon his mother and Jaime...
"Knock, knock, knock."
Just then, a faint knock on the door sounded.
Lynn composed himself, adjusted his breathing, and made his voice sound a little weak.
"Who is it?"
Outside the door, a soft, concerned voice replied.
"Ser Lynn, it's me, Sansa Stark."
"Father asked me to bring you some dinner and medicine."
Sansa?
Lynn's eyebrow twitched imperceptibly.
Perfect timing.
He walked over and opened the door.
Outside, Sansa Stark stood holding a silver tray, her small face full of worry.
She looked at Lynn's slightly pale complexion, her blue eyes filled with guilt and gratitude.
"Ser Lynn, today... Thank you for saving Prince Joffrey."
"I..."
"Come in, Lady Sansa." Lynn stepped aside to let her in.
Sansa entered the room and placed the tray on the table.
The room was quiet, with only the crackling of the fire in the fireplace.
She secretly observed Lynn.
This man from the North was different from all the knights she had ever met.
He didn't possess the romantic flair of the Knight of Flowers, nor the flamboyance of the Kingslayer.
There was only a calm and powerful presence, like the icy wastes of the North.
"I heard... Her Majesty the Queen has been confined."
Sansa spoke softly, with a hint of unease in her tone.
"The game of thrones in King's Landing is far dirtier than you imagine, Lady Sansa."
Lynn poured himself a glass of water.
"Sometimes, what you see with your eyes is not necessarily the truth."
These words made Sansa's heart skip a beat.
She remembered Joffrey cruelly trampling the drunkard's corpse, and the Queen's frenzy when she was publicly accused.
All of this was entirely different from the stories of heroes and princesses she had heard since childhood.
Lynn looked at her bewildered eyes, knowing his words had an effect.
This foolish girl, it was better to give her a heads-up first.
Lest she turn her back on them.
Just then.
"Knock, knock, knock."
The knocking on the door sounded again.
This time, the sound was neither light nor heavy, carrying a unique rhythm.
Lynn's eyes narrowed.
"Lady Sansa."
"Oh, alright..." Sansa quickly stood up, bowed, and hurried away with the empty tray.
Lynn walked to the door.
Outside, stood a man in a simple robe, slightly plump, with his hands tucked into his sleeves.
He was bald, with a gentle and mysterious smile on his face, and a faint scent of powder emanating from him.
Varys.
The Spider.
"Ser Lynn." Varys's voice was soft as silk.
"An uninvited visit, I hope I haven't disturbed your rest."
His eyes, which always seemed to be smiling, were now like two bottomless ancient wells, seemingly able to see through people's hearts.
"Some little birds have just sung me a very interesting song."
"A song about Direwolves, Golden Lions, and... how an unseen spider stirs up the winds of change."
Varys smiled and slowly walked into the room.
"I think, perhaps we can talk."
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