"Just... kill me."
The knight begged through gritted teeth as he dragged himself upright against the wall, clutching his aching ribs, his bloodshot eyes fixed firmly on the ground.
Jon paused for a moment, surprised by the sudden request, before continuing forward and stopping in front of the downcast knight. "Why?" he asked, tilting his head. "Why do you suddenly want to die? Don't you want to save your wife?"
"Yes. There is still a chance to save Lena if we hurry," Margaery hurriedly added as she moved to Jon's side. She glanced at the knight's battered form before turning back to him. "We only need to bring the news to Grandmother. I am sure she'll send the full might of our guards to search the city from end to end. And Jon can get the Starks to help too, can't he?"
Her voice faltered as she met Jon's eyes, looking a bit guilty. "I know it is much to ask after what happened... after he threatened your life, but please..." Her fingers tightened around the fabric of her dress. "He is a good man."
"No need for that. I would have helped anyway." Jon shrugged, studying her with a raised eyebrow. "But I am surprised you would let go of the betrayal so easily..." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I thought you nobles detested oathbreakers, no matter the reason behind their actions."
"Just because I am a noble doesn't mean I am a heartless person," Margaery huffed while sending an annoyed glare at him. "Any man in his place would have done the same for his wife. Otherwise, he wouldn't even be worthy of being called a man, let alone a knight."
"All right, all right, I understand." Jon immediately raised his hands in surrender. "I am just surprised you do," he muttered, but the moment he caught sight of her narrowed eyes, he hurriedly turned towards the knight. "So, should we go search for your wife?"
"It's too late now..." Marynd's lips trembled in agony as he shook his head. "They warned me that they would be keeping an eye on me at all times to see that I was following through. They would have known by now that I failed, and my wife... she..." Just imagining the thought of his sweet Lena suffering at the hands of those degenerates, and dying a miserable death, made him want to take his sword and shove it in his heart.
"It's too late now..." Marynd slowly shook his head, his lips trembling as he struggled to keep his voice steady. "They warned me they were going to keep eyes on me at all times, to make sure I followed through. T-They must know by now that I failed, and my wife... she..."
His voice broke. The thought of his Lena falling into the hands of those degenerates, of what they might do to her... was almost more than he could bear.
His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword, and for a fleeting moment, he wondered if driving the blade through his own heart would be easier than living long enough to see her corpse.
"Oh, are you talking about the lookout? Don't worry, he is still here keeping a watch on us."
Jon suddenly turned around and pointed towards the second floor of the inn hidden behind the alley wall.
Everyone's eyes followed Jon's finger, and sure enough, at the other end they found a narrow-faced man peeking out of the window, his face frozen in dumbfounded surprise.
The moment he realised that every person in the alley had turned to look directly at him, however, the man's expression transformed into pure terror. He let out a strangled scream, stumbled backwards, and scrambled on all four for the door as though he had just seen the Stranger himself.
'Run! Run! I need to get the hell out of here!' His mind screamed at him as he tore down the stairs. 'Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!'
The man had seen the ease with which Jon Snow, the famous bastard from the North, had destroyed those men.
One moment, five men had been standing against him, weapons drawn and ready to kill. A few heartbeats later, four were dead, and the fifth had been disarmed.
It had happened so quickly that the man could barely comprehend what he had witnessed.
'The tales... they must all be true.'
His face grew even paler at the thought as he cursed the foolishness of his past self for ever accepting a job against a monster like that.
And it wasn't as if his four fellows were all run-of-the-mill warriors, either.
The two swordsmen among them were some of the best fighters he had seen among the hedge knights attending the Tourney. Between them, they had won eight out of the ten bouts they had participated in at the practice grounds.
They weren't Kingsguard material, certainly, but they were still better than most household guards.
And he also knew that they, along with a few archers, liked to do some part-time banditry during downtime, robbing small merchant caravans travelling along the Kingsroad. Between them, they had looted more than a dozen caravans and left plenty of corpses in their wake.
So they were no amateurs.
And yet the boy had torn through them as if they were half-grown lads holding swords for the first time.
'And damn it, those crossbows turned out to be completely useless too.'
Bursting through the inn's door, he ignored the innkeeper's angry shout and shoved aside every unfortunate passerby in his path before ducking into the maze of alleyways.
He took one twisting path after another, deliberately choosing the narrowest and most convoluted routes he knew.
'They definitely won't be able to follow me here.'
The narrow-faced man was certain of it.
He had lived in King's Landing his entire life and knew these streets like the back of his hand. There was no chance some northern outsider or that flowery knight could hope to follow him through this tangled labyrinth of cramped alleys and crooked passages.
'I need to warn the others. The plan has failed; we need to leave the city before they start searching for us...'
Winding the time back a few seconds...
"That was the lookout?" the knight exclaimed in a high-pitched voice, his face filled with utter disbelief.
"Yes, I am quite sure of it." Jon nodded calmly. "The moment the fight was over, I discreetly scouted the area and found that he was the only person with a good view of our alley." He smiled and pointed towards the window. "And if that's not enough proof, I think his reaction just now serves as the best confirmation."
He lowered his hand just as the man disappeared from the window.
"Stop!"
The knight abruptly scrambled away from the wall, his exhaustion seemingly forgotten as he reached for his sword.
"Why did you alert him if you knew where he was?!" he cried desperately. "W-We need to catch him before he gets away!"
Without waiting for an answer, he sprinted out of the alley.
"Wait! I know how to—" Jon stopped as the knight disappeared around the corner.
He stared after him for a moment before sighing.
"Why is he so impatient?"
"Shouldn't you go with him?" Margaery turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "Wouldn't it be better to catch the man and find out who is behind this? In fact, Marynd was right. You shouldn't have frightened him off like that. If you'd simply pretended not to notice him, we might have been able to catch him already..." She sighed, pressing a hand on her forehead. "So was it really necessary to point him out just for the sake of showing off?"
"Do you truly believe that I would point him out so openly merely for theatrics?" Jon asked while placing a hand on his heart and a deeply wounded look on his face. "How can you think so little of me, my lady?"
"And you say you don't love theatrics?" Margaery murmured as she rolled her eyes.
Jon's shoulder slumped as though he were a misunderstood bard surrounded by uncultured fools, before he shook his head.
"Of course, it was all part of a plan. The only way we could find his real hideout was by scaring him into running away. If we simply captured him here, interrogating him—whether through pain or threats—would take time. And by then, there's a good chance that others would realise that something had gone awry, and would abandon their hideout before we could reach them. And so we would lose our best chance of finding them and saving his wife."
Margaery studied him for a few moments before her eyes slowly narrowed. "You really did think all of this through, didn't you?"
"Of course, I did." Jon snorted as he brushed off the invisible dust from his shoulder. "I tell you, I was known as a very capable schemer back in Essos. You only need to ask the men on my ship."
Ignoring his bragging, Margaery continued, "But isn't it too uncertain? Your entire plan hinges on you being able to follow him all the way to his hideout without being noticed. Yet you are still here, and I don't think the chances of Ser Marynd catching up to him are very high. Especially with how crowded the city is at the moment."
"Oh, I'm not counting on him catching the man at all. In fact, it's quite the opposite." Jon shrugged. "I'm hoping Ser Marynd will put enough pressure on him that he'll eventually lose sight of the knight. Once that happens, he'll be genuinely relieved and start to believe he's safe. And once he thinks he's managed to escape, he'll be much more likely to return to his true hideout."
Margaery was once more confused. "Again, how are you going to find out where he is going if you are not out there following after him?"
"Oh, that, I will just..." Jon let off mid-sentence before he smiled mischievously. "I heard somewhere that girls appreciate a little Mystery in a man... so wouldn't it be better if I keep that bit secret for now?" he winked with a teasing expression.
Margaery silently studied Jon with narrowed eyes before leaning close and whispering, "One day, I am going to squeeze out every single one of your secrets, Jon Snow, and there's nothing you are going to be able to do about it," she warned before a sweet smile appeared on her face.
Jon gulped and involuntarily shivered before hurriedly clearing his throat and taking a step back. "M-My brother must already be on the way, so we need to decide whether we want to keep this low or let everyone know and make a commotion."
After all, the ones who had been attacked were related to two of the most powerful Lord Paramounts in Westeros, so it was bound to get everyone's attention when they discovered that they were attacked in the middle of the city.
Margaery looked thoughtful for a few moments before she shrugged. "I think I am fine either way. Which one do you prefer?"
"To keep this silent," Jon answered immediately while glancing towards the alley entrance.
Thankfully, the men had chosen a very secluded spot for their ambush, and even after all this time and the screams of the dying, there was still no sign of any bystanders coming to investigate.
The only other thing in sight was a small carriage parked silently at the far end of the alley, which Jon presumed had been meant to transport their bodies away once they were finished.
"Why?" Margaery asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You could clearly tell from their clothes and their conversation that they were nothing more than hired thugs doing someone else's bidding." He jerked his head towards the dead men. "Making a commotion now could alert whoever is behind this and let them know their plan has failed. And once they realise that, they'll have every reason to cover their tracks and hide their involvement."
"Oh..."
"And even if the culprits make a mistake and are somehow exposed, there is always a chance that they are 'important' people." He gave her a meaningful look. "So important that there would be little we could do to them openly. And if some unfortunate accident were to befall them, people would immediately assume it was retaliation, making it difficult for us to punish them even from the shadows."
Margaery was a little taken aback by his words, but she wisely chose not to ask what sort of punishment he had in mind.
"It's fine with me, then." She nodded, though a slight frown remained on her face. "After all, when it comes down to it, it was a Tyrell guard who put us in this position in the first place. Keeping this quiet would also be better for our reputation. And perhaps Ser Marynd and his wife will get through this without too much trouble."
"Perfect, then." Jon clapped his hands together with a smile. "We'll simply tell anyone who asks that we had a chance encounter with some robbers and killed them after a brief struggle. Something like that shouldn't be too uncommon in King's Landing, and it probably wouldn't even be enough to draw the City Watch's attention."
Jon finished speaking before turning towards the only person besides the two of them who was still conscious.
"What say you, old man?"
The injured old knight remained silent for a few moments before laboriously opening his eyes.
"I'll keep quiet about this to outsiders, and so will the boy." He weakly gestured towards the young knight, who was still unconscious. "But I'm afraid I'll still need to recount the full version of events to Lady Tyrell. What she decides to do with that information is her prerogative."
He glanced guiltily towards Margaery.
"So you're one of hers, huh?" Jon asked, raising an eyebrow. He was a little surprised that the old woman had placed one of her own men around her granddaughter, but then again, that sounded very much like Olenna.
From the corner of his eye, he noticed that Margaery didn't look particularly surprised by the revelation.
'Both grandmother and granddaughter are no simple ladies.'
"Well, that answers that." Jon sighed and shook his head. "We'll just have to deal with Lady Olenna when the time comes."
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