The Great Hall of Winterfell was baked into a noisy and sweltering furnace by hundreds of tallow candles and roaring fireplaces. In the air, the aroma of roasting boar fat mixed with the sour smell of spilled ale. Together, these scents formed a dizzying wave of heat.
The bard's lute music was torn to shreds by King Robert's coarse laughter and the loud toasts of the lords. Burly warriors, bare-chested, embraced delicate prostitutes in their arms.
Lynn stood in the most inconspicuous corner of the hall, holding a cup of ale. The stone pillar behind him was cold, isolating most of the heat. Lynn was like a ghost, indifferently watching this grand and hypocritical tableau before him.
Ned Stark sat in the seat of honor. He drank cup after cup with Robert. But the smile on his face was stiff, like a mask.
Lady Catelyn circulated among the noble ladies from the South. Her demeanor was impeccable, but the worry deep in her eyes flickered in and out under the candlelight. Soon, Catelyn left; she was going to help Sansa tidy up. Tonight, Sansa would be the protagonist, and Catelyn didn't want the southern ladies to see anything amiss.
Lynn's gaze swept through the crowd. He saw Jaime Lannister. The "Kingslayer" was whispering something to his sister, Queen Cersei, eliciting a coquettish laugh from her. But no one noticed. Their beauty seemed so out of place in this chaotic environment, and so dangerous.
Lynn drained the ale in his cup. The spicy liquid slid down his throat but couldn't dispel the chill in his heart.
He turned and left the clamor.
Walking through a corridor hung with antler chandeliers, the cold air outside cleared his muddled head significantly.
A suppressed, hushed conversation came from a window embrasure not far ahead. It was Lady Catelyn and Sansa.
Sansa's voice held an urgency soaked in wine and fantasy. Her sky-blue dress glowed softly in the moonlight, and her pretty face was full of a young girl's longing for the future.
"Prince Joffrey is so handsome, so brave!"
"I will be his Queen!"
"When will we get married?"
"Is it now, or do we wait?"
Although he couldn't see Lady Catelyn, Lynn could imagine the expression on her face right now. Exhaustion, worry, and a trace of helplessness.
"Sansa, listen." Catelyn's voice was soft, but held an unquestionable seriousness. "Don't get excited. Your father hasn't agreed yet."
Sansa asked in confusion, "Why wouldn't he agree? He will soon be the Hand of the King, second only to one man."
Speaking of this, Sansa revealed an excited smile.
Catelyn's face was bitter. "Then he would have to leave his home. And leave me. Of course, you would leave home too."
Sansa's expression held a trace of confusion. "Didn't you also leave your home to come to Winterfell? And I... one day I will be Queen."
Sansa suddenly turned her head. "Please, make Father agree!"
Catelyn wanted to say something else, but was interrupted by the urgent Sansa.
"Please! Marrying a Prince, this is my life's wish!"
Catelyn looked at her daughter's longing gaze, was silent for a long time, and then spoke slowly. "This isn't a song sung by Northern bards. Being a Queen isn't just about wearing pretty dresses and attending balls. You..."
"I understand!" Sansa interrupted her mother, her voice rising slightly with the grievance of being misunderstood. "I will be a good Queen, just like Queen Nymeria in the legends! I will bear him golden-haired princes. Mother, please, make Father agree quickly! I don't want to stay in Winterfell anymore; it's cold and boring here!"
The girl's plea was like a fine needle piercing Lady Catelyn's heart.
Lynn's face held no expression. He had no sympathy, nor disdain. He was just like the calmest chess player, watching a piece destined for sacrifice happily walk toward a trap.
From this moment on, Sansa's fate was firmly bound to that blood-stained Iron Throne. And he was powerless to stop it, nor did he want to. Sansa was already blinded by power.
Ned Stark must go South. This was the King's order, a close friend's request, and his inescapable responsibility as Warden of the North.
Lynn's gaze passed through the window, looking deep into the courtyard.
There, an ancient abandoned tower stood in the night, like a broken fang.
A thought flashed through Lynn's mind. That was where Bran would fall, and it was also the greatest benefit he could seize for himself right now!
Lynn silently retreated, blending back into the shadows and leaving the corridor.
He didn't go back to his room. Instead, he crossed the noisy courtyard and walked to the other side of the castle. It was far from the lights of the main keep; only the torches of patrolling guards cast swaying spots of light in the darkness.
Lynn arrived at the base of the abandoned tower. The First Keep, the oldest part of Winterfell.
He looked up at the dilapidated walls. He knew that Bran Stark, the boy who loved to climb, would fall from high above. He would see things he shouldn't see.
Jaime and Cersei's secret!
And this secret would be like a stone thrown into a lake, stirring up monstrous waves!
Saving Bran wasn't out of any noble morality. Lynn had little morality to speak of; he wasn't the pedantic Stark.
What would a healthy, un-crippled Bran Stark mean to the Stark family? And what would he, who saved the Lord's second son at a critical moment, gain?
It would no longer be simple trust. It would be a gratitude sufficient to change Lynn's fate. A chip that would allow him to truly shed his prisoner status and gain a foothold.
This was the first, and most critical, piece he could place in this game of thrones.
Lynn wouldn't allow himself to miss this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Before he had power, he could only use schemes, just like Lord Baelish, Littlefinger.
Lynn had to act, but not recklessly. He couldn't just rush up and tell everyone there was a problem in the tower. That would not only get him treated as a madman but would also dilute the Starks' gratitude toward him.
He needed a perfect timing, an unquestionable excuse, a reason that would make his presence at the "scene of the incident" seem coincidental and reasonable.
Lynn's gaze began to scan the surrounding environment. Below the tower was a forgotten clearing, overgrown with weeds and scattered with abandoned stone materials. It was very secluded; almost no one would come here. Except... for the boy who liked to climb everywhere.
And, of course, the golden-haired siblings who liked to have affairs.
He now needed to understand Bran's habits, his climbing routes, and the times he usually appeared. Starting tomorrow, he would lie in wait here, day after day. Until that day, when Bran and the blonde siblings appeared on this tower together.
Lynn withdrew his gaze, turned, and left.