The next morning, the castle was bustling with activity.
King Robert wanted to go hunting. He had heard that the wild boars in the North were far fiercer than those in the South — larger, with longer tusks and nastier tempers — and he had been itching to see them for himself.
Lord Eddard naturally had to accompany him, along with many Northern lords and the King's retinue. Hoofbeats, barking hounds, and the sound of horns filled the air, creating a lively scene.
Queen Cersei chose to remain in Winterfell.
She had no interest in hunting and disliked the freezing, snowy weather of the North even more.
As she stood at the gate to see the hunting party off, she wrapped herself tightly in a thick fur cloak, a polite smile fixed on her face, but her eyes had already drifted elsewhere.
The party finally set out.
Cersei turned, her gaze eting Jai's where he stood among the crowd. It lasted only an instant before both looked away.
But that instant was enough.
Ten-year-old Bran Stark was a restless child.
He had loved climbing ever since he was small. He had scaled every tower, every wall, and every rooftop in Winterfell. No matter how many tis Lady Catelyn scolded him, he could never break the habit.
Right now he stood in the yard, looking up at the tallest ruined tower in the distance.
The King's hunting party had already been gone for so ti. He wanted to see how far they had gone.
That tower was the highest; climbing it would give him the best view.
His little direwolf, Sumr, squatted at his feet, tugging gently at his trouser leg with his teeth and whimpering, as if saying: Master, don't go. It's dangerous.
Bran patted his head. "It's fine. I've climbed this place many tis before."
With that, he shook off Sumr and ran toward the tower.
Sumr circled twice in place, then sat at the base of the tower, looking up and howling more urgently as the small figure climbed higher and higher.
At the top of the tower, in an abandoned room.
Jai Lannister and Cersei Lannister had finally found a mont alone.
All the way from King's Landing to Winterfell they had had almost no chance.
There were too many people, too many eyes, and the King's carriage was right in front. They could only endure, communicating through glances what they could not say aloud.
Last night they had scouted the spot.
This abandoned tower stood in a remote corner of the castle, long neglected and rarely visited. Most importantly, it was high, secluded… and thrilling enough.
The mont the King's party left, Cersei had impatiently dragged Jai here.
Now the two were lost in the act, passion reaching its peak… oblivious to the world around them.
Jai's hands road over Cersei's body, his lips pressed against her neck.
Cersei tilted her head back, eyes closed, letting out suppressed moans.
In this mont she was no longer queen, no longer mother, no longer a daughter of House Lannister.
She was simply Jai's lover, the girl who had loved him since childhood.
"Jai…"
"I'm here."
"Fuck harder!"
Outside the window, the cold wind howled.
Inside the room, desire consud them.
But at the height of their abandon, Cersei's body suddenly stiffened.
She snapped her eyes open, gaze fixed over Jai's shoulder on the window.
There were eyes there.
A boy's eyes, staring at them in confusion.
Cersei trembled violently, gripping Jai's arm tightly, her voice low but filled with terror: "Stop! Stop right now! He saw us!"
Jai whipped his head around.
He saw the eyes too.
In that instant, all color drained from his face.
Bran Stark was hanging outside the window, hands clutching the sill, his entire body suspended in mid-air. His face was full of bewildernt and confusion… he didn't understand why the Queen was with the Queen's brother.
Why were they doing that? He was young and innocent, but it was unmistakably fucking!
He blinked, as if still processing what he had seen.
Jai released Cersei, hurriedly straightened his clothes, and walked to the window.
He leaned out, grabbed the front of Bran's tunic, and hauled the boy inside.
"Are you mad?" His voice was low but laced with unmistakable panic. "What did you see?"
Bran was lifted off the ground, terror written across his face. He was still too small to fully understand what he had witnessed, but instinct told him the man before him was dangerous.
"I… I just wanted to climb up and watch the King's party…" His voice shook.
Cersei clutched her scattered clothes to cover herself, repeating in a sharp, trembling voice: "He saw us! He saw us!"
Jai looked back at her, eyes full of helplessness and alarm.
"I know," he said. "Look what I do for love…"
He turned to Bran. The boy stared at him with frightened eyes.
"What did you see?" Jai asked again.
Bran opened his mouth, but before he could answer—
Jai let go.
Bran's body tilted backward and fell from the window.
For a split second, ti seed to freeze.
Bran's eyes were filled with disbelief. He didn't understand why the white knight Jai Lannister would kill him.
His dream was to beco a white knight too!
He had only climbed up to see the view. He wouldn't tell anyone. He didn't understand anything…
The wind whistled past his ears.
Then—thud!
Below the tower, Sumr let out a heart-wrenching howl.
At the top of the tower, Jai pulled his hand back and stood by the window, back turned.
His body was trembling slightly.
Cersei threw herself into his arms, holding him tightly. Her own body shook — whether from fear or sothing else, no one could say.
"He saw us…" she murmured.
Jai took a deep breath, turned, and cupped her face.
"It's over," he said, voice hoarse. "It's over."
Cersei looked up at him, tears glistening in her eyes. She gazed at the man she had loved since childhood, the man who had killed a child for her.
She leaned in to kiss him.
Jai lowered his head to et her.
But Cersei suddenly pushed him away.
"No."
Her voice regained its cold composure. "That was the Northern lord's son. We must leave imdiately. No one can know we were here."
Jai paused for a mont, then nodded.
The two hurriedly straightened their clothes, checked every corner to ensure no trace was left, and left the tower one after the other.
They did not notice the tiny red dot, no larger than a needle tip, flickering faintly on a piece of rotten wood by the window.
If soone from Earth had been there, they would have cursed: "Fuck, this place has caras! This hotel is a no-go~ Call the police, must call the police!"
Across the Narrow Sea, Pentos.
A grand wedding was underway.
Khal Drogo was marrying the last princess of House Targaryen, Daenerys.
Representatives and rchants from various powers had co bearing gifts, hoping to curry favor with the khal of the grasslands.
The wedding was held in an open field outside Pentos. Dothraki tents stretched endlessly, bonfires blazed, and the aroma of roasted at filled the air.
The food was simple: roasted horseflesh, roasted horse hearts, and the innards of so unknown animal. Dothraki warriors sliced off chunks with their knives and chewed loudly, grease running down their chins.
Daenerys sat beside Khal Drogo, dressed in Dothraki clothing, her silver hair falling over her shoulders.
Her face was expressionless, her violet eyes revealing no emotion.
Dothraki weddings had a special custom: blood must be spilled. If at least three people did not die, the wedding was considered a failure.
Not far away in the open space, several Dothraki warriors were hacking at each other. Blood sprayed, screams rang out, and the watching warriors cheered wildly.
Daenerys turned her head away, unable to watch.
At that mont, a wandering knight in worn armor stepped forward, holding several books.
"A humble gift for the new khaleesi."
He bowed respectfully. "These are the histories and songs of the Seven Kingdoms. May they bring the princess a little comfort in this foreign land."
Daenerys's eyes brightened slightly.
She took the books and asked softly, "Ser, are you a subject of my holand?"
The man imdiately straightened with pride in his eyes.
"I am Ser Jorah Mormont of Bear Island, who once served the late king for many years."
He turned to Viserys beside them. "The Seven bless ; I wish to serve the true dragon king forever."
Viserys nodded in satisfaction.
Another follower. Truly, I am the dragon!
One step closer to reclaiming the Iron Throne.
Next, Pentoshi magister Illyrio stepped forward. He clapped his hands, and several servants carried a delicate wooden box forward.
"Khaleesi," Illyrio said with a smile, "these are dragon eggs."
The box was opened.
Three dragon eggs lay quietly on a velvet cushion — one deep green, one pale grey, one black. Their shells were covered in fine scale-like patterns that glowed warmly in the sunlight.
Daenerys held her breath.
Illyrio explained, "They co from the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai. After thousands of years they have beco petrified, yet they remain beautiful."
He paused and lowered his voice.
"I have heard that in Westeros there is a newly risen magic baron nad Luke Jaqenion who is extrely fond of collecting dragon egg fossils. Anyone can trade dragon eggs for large amounts of gold dragons from him — even exclusive trading rights to his wondrous magical goods.
"Many rchants are now eagerly searching for dragon egg fossils to curry favor with the magic baron across the Narrow Sea…"
The eyes of many rchants present grew hot with greed.
Dragon egg fossils for exclusive magical goods rights? That was pure profit!
But so people cast doubtful glances at Illyrio. Such precious items — how could they be given away so lightly?
Illyrio seed not to notice those looks. He simply smiled, closed the box, and handed it to Daenerys.
The final part of the wedding, of course, was the consummation.
But the way it was done was nothing like Daenerys had imagined.
Khal Drogo brought a white stallion — tall and majestic, with a mane like snow. He lifted Daenerys onto its back, then mounted a black warhorse himself.
"Yah!"
The two horses galloped off toward the sea.
The accompanying Dothraki warriors cheered, but none followed.
Daenerys clutched the horse's mane, not understanding what was happening.
Only when Khal Drogo reined in on a deserted beach did she realize…
This was how the Dothraki consummated a marriage… find an empty place and do it!
No splendid wedding chamber in the Red Keep, no blessing from the Seven, no cheers from guests. Only the waves, only the sand, only the savage khal… and her.
Daenerys closed her eyes.
Tears slid down her cheeks and were carried away by the sea wind.
In the distance, Viserys stood before his tent, gazing in that direction.
A satisfied smile spread across his face.
His sister was married. The army would soon be his.
Soon he could go ho.
Back to King's Landing.
Back to the Red Keep.
Back to the Iron Throne that belonged to him.
He clenched his fist, manic light flashing in his eyes.
As for what his sister was experiencing right now…
It didn't matter.
As long as he could reclaim the throne, anything was worth it.
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