Domeric held the reins with one hand and wrapped the other around Sansa's waist.
The girl's waist was slender and soft, yet full of elasticity. It felt very good in his arms, likely the result of regular exercise.
Domeric glanced sideways at the girl's face and saw the corners of her mouth slightly raised, carrying a hint of smugness. He immediately realized something and found it secretly amusing.
Quietly breathing in the faint, elegant scent drifting from Sansa's collar, he caught something almost sweet in it.
The girl seemed to notice this as well. Unconsciously, she leaned back and pressed herself tightly into Domeric's arms.
"Ser Domeric, did I behave too unlike a lady yesterday?"
Domeric gave a soft hum. He had not expected Sansa to still be brooding over the matter of "scrubbing his back."
But thinking about it, who did not do strange, foolish things in their youth?
In the dead of night, whenever Domeric thought back to embarrassing moments from his previous life, he would feel so mortified that he wished he could disappear into the ground.
"As a noble maiden, I was truly terrible. You won't hate me because of it, will you?"
"Nothing of the sort. You are my betrothed. What you did was reasonable."
For a moment, Domeric could not organize any particularly good words to comfort Sansa. So he lowered his head and kissed the side of her neck.
Sansa had clearly never experienced anything like that. With just one kiss, it was as if she had been struck by electricity. A strange sensation spread from her neck and instantly ran through her entire body. She stiffened slightly, feeling her whole body tense up…
Winter had not yet come. The entire continent was still in high summer.
King's Landing, close to Blackwater Bay, had its own distinct climate. The sky had not fully darkened, and a cool breeze drifted through the air.
At that moment, the streets of King's Landing looked dirty and disorderly.
Filthy water ran everywhere, rubbish was thrown about, and there were no proper sewers to carry waste away.
Domeric had no expectations for public hygiene in this era.
Even so, the streets were bustling with voices and full of life, which left Sansa and Arya, two little girls who had never seen a great city before, extremely excited.
"Come and see! Delicious pan-fried lamb chops!"
"Hot and fresh deep-sea fish soup! One bowl will keep you lively all day!"
"Fresh oysters from the harbor! Only six coppers!"
"White bread with black ale!"
"Fresh vegetables from the farms outside the city, cheap and fresh!"
…
All kinds of street vendors shouted loudly, calling out to hurried passersby. From time to time, Sansa and Arya stopped to see if there was anything they wanted to buy.
A minstrel played the harp, the melody sometimes gentle and lingering, sometimes lively and passionate.
Beside him, many common children had gathered. They listened to the music and the stories from across the Seven Kingdoms, their faces filled with joy.
Domeric took the sisters into a restaurant that looked very refined and well decorated, then asked for a private room.
That way, they would not be disturbed while eating.
The attendants quickly brought in steaming dishes: buttered bread, small roasted lamb chops, black caviar, blueberry pastries, lemon cakes, and top-quality red tea from the Reach…
The pastries here did not taste especially good, but there were truly many varieties.
Sansa and Arya ate nonstop, their mouths covered in cream.
Even Domeric could not help being curious and tried several kinds.
The flavor was truly… distinctive.
…
"Wait here. Don't run around. I'll be back in a moment."
After eating a few pastries, Domeric suddenly spoke.
"All right, Ser Domeric. We'll obediently wait here."
Sansa and Arya continued burying themselves in the array of pastries.
Seeing that the time was about right, Domeric crossed the restaurant corridor, passed through a gate, and entered an underground passage.
Under the dim candlelight, Domeric saw his personal guard, Benita Antaryon.
Benita's long golden hair cascaded down like a waterfall, the candlelight slowly spreading patches of gold across it.
Her nose was still high and straight, her purple eyes bright and lively. She wore an elaborate yet somewhat revealing outfit: a gold-dusted silk dress that outlined her slender waist and full chest, exposing a large expanse of her back and her long legs.
"Why are you dressed like that?"
Domeric did not much like seeing his personal guard in this state. It looked too worldly.
"Master will understand soon."
With that, Domeric followed her down a winding staircase and along an abandoned corridor.
Before coming to King's Landing, Domeric had sent his personal guard Benita ahead to deliver a letter. Now she had become Domeric's dedicated liaison between the inside and outside of King's Landing.
After walking roughly seven or eight miles, Domeric felt they should have reached the street on the other side. He had not expected the underground passages of King's Landing to be so interconnected.
Finally, after climbing an upward staircase, Domeric followed Benita to a three-story wooden building.
Light shone through the windows, very bright against the gradually darkening dusk. Music and harsh laughter rang out without end.
By the door, a heavy chain held a fine oil lamp covered by a leaded red-glass shade.
Domeric now understood why Benita was dressed that way.
Because this place was a brothel.
"Why choose this place?"
"It was that lord's idea," Benita explained.
"Master, please follow me."
They entered the building and passed through the crowded hall. Several women sang indecent songs, while girls in thin gauze sat on guests' laps and acted coquettishly.
Benita led the way and explained as she walked, "Master, your expression needs to be a little more improper. Don't look like such a solemn gentleman. If you're recognized, then all the trouble we took with the route will have been wasted…"
Benita turned around and saw Domeric groping two passing prostitutes with seasoned, practiced movements. She immediately shut her mouth.
They went up to the third floor, crossed a gallery, and entered a room.
"Gods be good, you've finally arrived, Ser Domeric."
The speaker was a plump man with a powdery scent about him, his bald head smooth as a marinated egg.
He wore a loose purple silk robe and a vest sewn with golden thread. It was none other than the famous Spider, Varys.
The two of them were already old acquaintances. They had merely pretended not to know each other during the small council meeting.
"Did meeting really need to be this troublesome?"
Domeric sounded impatient. He had circled underground for a full half hour.
"A little trouble is better than being seen by others." Varys giggled, speaking like a woman. "In King's Landing, aside from my little birds, there are plenty of other people's little birds as well."
"By the way, this brothel is yours?" Domeric asked curiously.
"Of course."
"I thought all the brothels in King's Landing belonged to Littlefinger."
"He does not have that much ability. Though there is no doubt he owns the largest number of them."
"Right. Here is what you wanted."
Varys handed over several pieces of parchment, then continued:
"My little birds once saw traces of Littlefinger, Petyr Baelish, in the Free City of Pentos. In addition, based on the information you provided, these are the records found through the mercenary guild."
Domeric took the parchment. Inside was a portrait.
The man in the portrait held a giant axe. He was tall, broad, and thickly built, with half-inch chest hair tangled across his chest like a carpet. His muscles bulged all over his body…
Beneath it was a line of notes:
Heracles
Identity: Essosi mercenary
Title: Berserker
…
It was precisely the giant mercenary who had attacked Domeric at the Smoking Log Inn earlier.
Damn it!
So it really was Littlefinger's scheme.
What a lingering ghost!
Even while in King's Landing, he had not forgotten to muddy the waters in the North.
Domeric secretly made up his mind.
It seemed he needed to find an opportunity to finish off this great schemer of the Game of Thrones world with one clean stroke. Otherwise, watching him jump around would always leave Domeric feeling disgusted.
"Many thanks, Lord Varys."
Domeric smiled.
"You were in such a hurry to find me. Surely it wasn't only for this matter."
"I have good news for you."
Varys covered his mouth with one hand, revealing a sweet, greasy smile.
"Princess Daenerys has married a Dothraki horselord—Khal Drogo."
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🏰🩸 GAME OF THRONES: SECRETS BENEATH THE DREADFORT
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🚨 SOMETHING IS BURIED BENEATH THE DREADFORT...
And perhaps it was buried for a reason.
The North is a land of old blood, older grudges, and secrets hidden beneath snow and stone.
But few places inspire more fear than...
The Dreadfort.
30+ chapters ahead are already available.
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🩸 THE DREADFORT HIDES MORE THAN BONES
🏰 Dark northern secrets
⚔️ Political intrigue
🐺 Westerosi power struggles
🩸 Bloodlines & betrayal
❄️ The brutal North
👑 Ambition & survival
💀 Mysteries best left forgotten
The North remembers.
But the Dreadfort?
🩸 The Dreadfort hides.
🔥 30+ CHAPTERS AHEAD.
👉 Go beneath the Dreadfort before the public readers reach the door.
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❄️ Winter may be coming. The secrets are already here.