The grim news of Seaguard's fall, like a biting cold wind, dispelled the warmth in the great hall.
The messengers were escorted out by House Leicester knights, but the panic they brought already hung heavy in the air of the hall, weighing on the hearts of everyone present.
Lymon Lannister was so shocked by the news that he lost his composure, beginning to talk to non-existent people in the air about what to do.
Arthur looked at the old man before him, at times delirious, at times lucid. Seaguard's loss, the Ironborn's entry into the Trident River, and the absurd suggestion he had made not long ago – to adopt him as his son. An idea, like a flash of lightning piercing the darkness, suddenly unfolded in his mind.
His gaze swept over the battle-scarred murals on the walls of the great hall, then back to the old man muttering to himself. He rapidly weighed the options in his mind. This idea, this plan, was so bold, so mad, yet carried a fatal temptation: to become his adopted son, to inherit Leicester.
Arthur was very clear about his own status. The Stinkfort Family, a family whose very name reeked of shabbiness and lowliness. His family, in Westeros where bloodline was paramount, especially in the Riverlands where noble families were deeply entrenched, simply couldn't make an appearance.
At this time, Westeros had not yet reached the stage where military strength was the basis of power, as it would be during the War of the Five Kings. Without a 'noble' surname as a stepping stone, the great lords of the Seven Kingdoms would never open their doors to him.
He didn't believe there was any difference between these 'thousand-year bloodlines' of the Riverlands and common beggars. However, this was currently the rule of Westeros, and he had to use these rules. Otherwise, he could use force to help the kingdom reclaim one castle, or even two, but he would never be able to gain the status he deserved through merit. He would forever be that upstart from Stinkfort.
House Leicester was different. They weren't considered a first-rate noble family, and were even somewhat in decline, but they were true thousand-year Riverlands nobles. Their bloodline had flowed in this land for thousands of years.
This was a 'rule' that could be exploited. The Ironborn invasion, the Three Rivers in turmoil, House Tully preoccupied. What if, by a one-in-ten-thousand chance, they were annihilated in this catastrophe?
Would the position of Lord Paramount of the Riverlands become vacant? Even if it did, it wouldn't be Leicester's turn. Blackwood, Vance, Blackwood... there were too many great figures ahead of them. They were like insurmountable High Mountains, blocking House Leicester, and blocking him, Arthur.
But... what if he could propel House Leicester to a new height?
The greatest characteristic of the Riverlands was that no single family could dominate. The power of various families was intertwined, checking each other. No one could completely subdue the others, but this was precisely the greatest opportunity.
If he could help House Leicester, in their name, rally those weaker, crisis-facing small and medium lords of the East Riverlands to form an 'East Riverlands Alliance,' accumulate strength in this war against the Ironborn, and achieve unparalleled merits, Leicester would become the undisputed master of the East Riverlands, and even gain the qualification to contend for the position of Lord Paramount of the Riverlands.
But this plan carried a fatal risk: everything depended on whether Lymon Lannister was truly willing to honor the 'adopted son's right of inheritance' promise.
In his previous life, he had struggled and endured the cold realities of the world. He knew that even blood brothers had to settle accounts clearly. If he gave his all to help him achieve success, reach the pinnacle of power, and there truly was a throne to inherit...
In the end, if this old man turned his back on him, using the precedent that Westeros had never had an adopted son inherit as an excuse, and kicked him aside, then he, Arthur, would become the biggest fool in the entire Seven Kingdoms, making a wedding dress for someone else, with nowhere to even cry.
However, this was indeed an opportunity. The Seven Kingdoms were not yet in great chaos, and his own family was too humble, lacking even the qualification to climb. No matter how great his achievements, he would never be connected to the Lord Paramount of the Riverlands.
Arthur took a deep breath, his ambition burning through his reason. He made up his mind: if he didn't gamble, he would have nothing.
He looked up at the distraught Lymon Lannister, his gaze sharp as a knife. He said nothing, merely signaling the old man with his eyes to dismiss the others.
A flicker of confusion crossed Lymond's clouded eyes, but he understood Arthur's gaze. He waved his hand, his voice hoarse:
"All of you, withdraw."
The attendants, guards, and maidservants bowed and retreated. The heavy oak door slowly closed with a dull thud.
Only the two of them remained in the great hall, along with the crackling of the fire in the fireplace. Arthur slowly walked back to the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down again. He and Lymond faced each other across the long table, and silence spread between them.
Finally, Arthur broke the stillness. His voice was not loud, but it was like a stone dropped into a deep pool, creating ripples:
"Lyman, are you willing to take an all-in gamble in this storm?"
Lymon Lannister was stunned. His wrinkled face was filled with bewilderment, as if he hadn't understood what Arthur was talking about. Gamble? What to gamble? Why gamble?
Arthur ignored the old man's confusion. He leaned slightly forward, his hands clasped on the table, and began his analysis:
"Although the Ironborn claim to have twelve thousand men, the Trident River is vast."
His voice was steady and clear, carrying an undeniable power that dispelled the panic in the great hall.
"If they want to completely control the Riverlands, they must divide their forces along the river, besieging every fortress and castle along the way. Riverrun, Stone Hedge, Raventree Hall... these are all tough nuts to crack."
"By the time their main army leaves behind forces for sieges and reaches the East Riverlands where House Leicester is located, whether even half of their forces will remain is questionable."
Arthur's eyes shone with astonishing brilliance, as if he could already see the future of the battle.
"So, my lord, this is not the end; this is House Leicester's opportunity."
Lymon Lannister remained silent for a long time. The great hall was deathly quiet, with only the sound of the fire crackling.
His cracked lips moved, and he uttered a few hoarse words:
"What do you mean, my child?"
Arthur's tone became impassioned, like a clever orator selling a whole new world to the mad old man before him:
"As long as House Leicester is willing to step forward, in your name, and issue a rallying cry!"
"I, Arthur, will find a way to persuade the other lords of the East Riverlands, such as Daedings Family, House Darry, and those landed knights, to form an East Riverlands Army!"
"An East Riverlands Army that belongs only to you!"
"We will no longer fight for House Tully, nor will we bleed for those treacherous cowards like Blackwood or Vance."
"We fight for ourselves, to defend our homes!"
Arthur stood up and paced the great hall. His voice was full of magic; every word struck Lymond's heart.
"Not only can we survive this war, but we can also gain unprecedented benefits from it!"
He stopped, turned around, and stared intently at the old man.
"I just don't know, Lord Lyman, if you are willing to take this gamble."
He paused, then delivered the final bait, word for word.
"To make House Leicester a great Riverlands family, on par with Tully, Blackwood, Blackwood, and Vance!"
"Perhaps... even a candidate for the future Lord Paramount of the Riverlands?"
Lymon Lannister was utterly shaken by Arthur's words. His body trembled violently, not from fear, but from a long-forgotten excitement.
Lord Paramount, Protector of the Riverlands—this was a title House Leicester's ancestors wouldn't even dare to dream of.
He looked at the young man before him, once again shocked. He truly hadn't expected such terrifying ambition to be hidden in this young man's heart. When the Riverlands was plunged into great chaos, he wasn't thinking about how to protect himself, but rather how to seize power from the crisis, and even the entire Riverlands...
After the shock came a deep weariness. The light in Lymond's eyes quickly dimmed.
He shook his head dejectedly, as if he had aged ten years in an instant, his voice filled with a sense of powerlessness: "I am too old."
"I no longer have that spirit... My sons are all dead, and the Leicester bloodline is about to end."
"If... if I were ten years younger, if my sons were still alive..."
"Perhaps I would gamble with you."
"But now..."
He lowered his head, covering his face with his hands, his shoulders subtly shaking with grief. Arthur said nothing. This old man was utterly crushed by reality, having lost all his fighting spirit.
Yet, at this moment, Lymon Lannister's lowered head suddenly snapped up. Those eyes, at times cloudy, at times clear, now erupted with an almost insane light, fixed intently on Arthur.
He slammed his hand on the table, standing up. His body swayed with excitement, yet he stood straight: "But!!!"
"If you are willing to be my son!"
"Then I will take this gamble with you!"
"You will be my heir! You will wave House Leicester's family banner! You will lead my army to win power for House Leicester!"
"Everything I have! It will be yours!"
"I only wish that you can achieve what you say! That you can make the name Leicester resound throughout the Seven Kingdoms!"
Arthur smiled. This was the very sentence he had been waiting for. With the legitimacy of House Leicester, he would have the opportunity to contend for the highest power in the Riverlands in the future.
He sat back in his chair, leaning back, his posture composed, and said unhurriedly to the old man: "Words alone are not enough, my lord."
Lymon Lannister, upon hearing this, rushed to the table, snatched up a quill, and looked at Arthur with joy in his eyes:
"I, Lymon Lannister, Lord of Licester Castle, hereby draw up this document today!"
"Adopting Arthur as my son!"
"Witnessed by the Old and New Gods! He shall have the first right of inheritance to all my family's lands, property, and titles!"
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