Conquest Keep, Council Chamber.
Outside the window, the wind from the Narrow Sea wailed through the gaps between the towers, sweeping fallen leaves across the courtyard. The sky was a dull, leaden gray, and the low-hanging clouds pressed so heavily upon the battlements they seemed ready to collapse at any moment.
Chai Yiq sat gracefully in a high-backed chair opposite Lo Quen. She had just completed the arduous mission he had assigned her in Westeros, and the traces of her long journey had yet to fade.
Chai Yiq spoke softly.
"Your Grace, disguised as Varys, I personally delivered Tyrion Lannister to Viserys' ship. At first, Viserys wanted to execute him. But when he learned that this very Lannister had killed Tywin, he was delighted and appointed Tyrion as his Hand of the King."
She paused.
"Then I told Viserys about his betrothal to Princess Arianne Martell of Dorne. The look on his face was as if he'd been struck in the forehead by a warhammer. He was completely stunned. He probably never imagined that, while leading a horde of Dothraki toward Westeros, his grand conquest would suddenly include a Dornish Queen."
Lo Quen smiled faintly.
"And what about Tyrion's reaction?"
Chai Yiq's lips curved.
"He seemed to adapt quite well. His mind moves faster than most blades. Before Viserys could even process the news, Tyrion was already analyzing Dorne's value to House Targaryen. He urged Viserys to immediately send messengers to Sunspear to ally with the Dornish.
Then he advised that their army should march straight for the Stormlands. With Renly dead and Stannis holed up on Dragonstone, the Stormlands were leaderless—at their weakest. Viserys should strike before the Lannisters could react, gathering the Dornish forces and the Dothraki Roaring Warriors to seize the Stormlands in a single, thunderous blow. It would serve as the firm foundation and springboard for Viserys' reconquest of Westeros."
Lo Quen asked, "And did Viserys listen?"
Chai Yiq nodded.
"He immediately summoned a sellsword he had bribed in Crown Town and ordered him to deliver a personal letter to Dorne, traveling day and night."
Lo Quen's gaze drifted toward the dark horizon beyond the window, as if piercing through the heavy clouds and the restless waves of the Narrow Sea to glimpse the Stormlands themselves.
He turned to Meizo, who sat silent at the long table.
"Spread the word about Viserys' betrothal. Let the Dornish reveal themselves."
Meizo bowed and left.
Chai Yiq went on.
"And then there was the wedding at the Twins. Robb Stark and his mother, Lady Catelyn, were murdered by Houses Frey and Bolton, working together. Nearly half of the Northern lords took part..."
She described that night to Lo Quen in detail.
Lo Quen hadn't expected Robb's death to be even more brutal than in the original tale—stabbed again and again by the very lords sworn to him. It was now clear that exposing Jon's true identity had far-reaching effects, sowing doubt among the Northern lords about the righteousness of marching south against the Iron Throne.
And then there was the Old Skinner.
After the Battle of Bloodstone Isle, Lo Quen had deliberately spread the lie that Domeric had died of illness, deepening Roose Bolton's hatred toward House Stark.
He turned to Chai Yiq.
"And what of Edmure Tully?"
"He lives, Your Grace. I have him locked in the dungeon."
Chai Yiq replied, "However, I have also brought back the bride for you. When I brought him and Roslin Frey back, I knocked them both unconscious and separated them for detention. Therefore, Roslin Frey is unaware of Edmure's current situation—she doesn't even know if I brought him back at all..."
"Roslin Frey?"
Lo Quen instantly grasped Chai Yiq's insinuation, feeling both amused and exasperated.
"Is that how you see me—a lecherous fiend who drags every beautiful woman he sees into bed?"
Chai Yiq offered a mischievous grin.
"Your Grace, I hold you in the highest regard. Of course you are not such a man.
But consider this: Roslin Frey, in the great hall of The Twins, before the Seven Gods and all the guests, has already exchanged sacred vows with Edmure Tully. Regardless of how that wedding ultimately unfolded, in the eyes of the world, under the laws and customs of the Seven Kingdoms, she is now Edmure Tully's lawful wife—the future mistress of Riverrun, the Lady of House Tully.
Edmure now languishes in our dungeons. As long as we keep him imprisoned, who will inherit Riverrun and the vast, fertile Riverlands? By right, it belongs to Edmure and his heirs. All you need do is impregnate her with your child. Then, that child—born posthumously to Edmure Tully—will become the sole legitimate heir to House Tully."
Lo Quen pondered Chai Yiq's proposal.
It must be said, this scheme mirrored his own deal with Lynesse. Controlling Roslin would mean controlling the future Tullys, Riverrun, and indeed the entire Riverlands. This strategic stronghold guarding the Trident River basin was rich in resources and teeming with people. To control such a place at minimal cost through an heir entirely of his own bloodline—why wouldn't he seize the opportunity?
Lo Quen looked at Chai Yiq and smiled.
"Indeed, this plan is feasible."
He then added, "You've also brought Sansa Stark back?"
"Yes, Your Grace."
Chai Yiq answered respectfully, "Following your orders, I rescued Lady Sansa from Duskendale and have her lodged in a chamber within the castle..."
She then recounted in detail how she had used Ruby's magic to deceive Tyrion at Duskendale, ultimately setting a trap that Varys had fallen into.
"Very good. Meizo already informed me of Varys's execution. With this, we've eliminated a major threat."
Lo Quen then rose to his feet.
"I shall go and see this Lady Sansa."
He made his way down a corridor deep within the Castle, pausing shortly before a heavy oak door. He raised his hand and knocked a few times with his knuckles.
"Come in."
A young girl's voice came from inside, tinged with a barely perceptible tremor.
Lo Quen pushed the door open.
The room felt considerably warmer than the council chamber. A slender, delicate figure stood with her back to the door, gazing out the narrow stained-glass window at the leaden sky and the churning waters of the Narrow Sea.
At the sound of the door opening, she spun around abruptly.
Sansa Stark.
Completely different from her appearance in the TV series from Lo Quen's previous life, the Sansa before him possessed astonishing beauty. Delicate, sculpted cheekbones framed eyes as clear as the sky after a storm, while thick, auburn hair fell smoothly over her shoulders, the ends curling ever so slightly.
She wore a perfectly tailored deep blue velvet gown. The cinched waist accentuated the maiden's slender figure and the budding curves hinting at remarkable potential, while the hem flowed like water to her ankles.