"He's seen us!" Cersei Lannister cried out, panic etched across her face.
She frantically shoved the man away, pointing wildly out the window.
"He saw us." Compared to the woman, Jaime Lannister seemed calm.
Bran, realizing he had been discovered, instinctively tried to hook onto the gargoyle statue to flip back, but this time he miscalculated. His hands only grazed the smooth stone surface, failing to catch anything.
As his grip slipped, Bran, who had never felt such helplessness, was gripped by sudden panic. His legs, which had been tightly pressed together, relaxed without warning.
Having lost his footing, Bran plummeted toward the courtyard below the tower.
The window frame flashed past him, and the sudden weightlessness made his heart clench. He frantically tried to save himself, but his outstretched hands slipped off the frame. The stone, normally solid under his fingers, felt slick, almost as if coated with fat.
Fortunately, a large hand shot out from the room and caught him firmly.
Bran didn't fall, but he bumped painfully against the wall as he was pulled back. The impact stole his breath, leaving him gasping.
Suspended mid-air, he struggled to breathe, yet his instinct to survive drove him to search for a foothold.
He managed to grab the window frame he had slipped past, his fingernails digging deeper into the hard stone.
Relieved he hadn't fallen, Bran instinctively looked up. Two faces appeared simultaneously at the window.
"Come on, grab me quickly, don't fall!"
The owner of the large hand spoke softly and reached down with the other hand as well. Bran felt as if he had grasped a lifeline.
He used all his strength to hold on, and the man pulled him up onto the windowsill.
"What do you want to do?!" Cersei demanded coldly, glaring at Jaime's actions.
At that moment, she instinctively picked up her dress from the ground and held it in front of her, trying to preserve her dignity. Her pale, bluish complexion betrayed her fear.
Jaime ignored her and helped Bran to his feet on the windowsill.
"Kid, how old are you?" Jaime asked calmly, as if merely noting the scenery.
"Seven years old," Bran stammered, still trembling from the near-death experience.
Relieved, he dared not look down at the tower. His gaze fell on the person who had saved him. Only then did he notice that his fingernails had dug into Jaime's arm, leaving small, bloody marks.
Embarrassed, Bran immediately let go. Jaime hardly seemed to notice, though his brow furrowed slightly, a hint of conflict in his expression.
He glanced at the woman beside him. After a brief pause, Jaime said reluctantly, "Think carefully about what I've done for love!"
He released Bran's hand and, without warning, suddenly pushed him out the window.
A shrill scream, tinged with terror, rose and fell into the air, growing distant.
Far below, a lone wolf howled.
Crows circled the ruined tower.
Another wolf howl followed, echoing eerily, as if urging him onward.
"Are you sure this is the way?!" Jon Snow asked, drawing his longsword and hacking through a path overgrown with thorns and weeds.
Carl followed behind casually. His gaze was fixed on the ruined tower in the distance rather than the path. Jon could make out a black dot moving near the tower through the mist.
"It's in that direction, but nobody comes here often…" Jon said, certain yet concerned.
Karl shrugged, fingers tracing the dragon-bone dagger at his waist. "Then let's hurry, or we'll miss the party that's in full swing!"
Jon frowned, puzzled, but continued hacking through the thorns with his sword, stained with the blood of two Imperial Guards. Karl had told him not to feel guilty—the finest weapons were still consumables.
In no time, they reached the base of the ruined tower via a small cleared path.
Karl looked up and pointed. "This way, Bran swung past again!"
Below the tower, weeds and vines clawed along the bricks, many tipped with sharp thorns. Luckily, the area was open enough to offer a clear view of the tower.
Jon looked up, the thick clouds above casting a harsh, dazzling light that made him squint. He lowered his gaze to continue onward.
"When Duke Eddard returns, I'll have him spank Bran until his bottom is swollen!" Jon muttered, anger rising at the fleeting black dot he had seen atop the tower.
"Then tell me the truth—have any of you brothers ever suspected Brandon Stark wasn't really Duke Stark's son?"
"I think I can use this chance to see if Duke Stark will do it," Karl said, still looking up at the tower.
"I'm going to tell on you," Jon joked, mimicking a scolding tone. Karl chuckled, glancing at him.
Jon tried to stifle his laugh. "My brothers certainly won't question Bran… But after the last confession incident, Lord Ed, furious, yelled at him, 'You must not be my son; you're nothing but a squirrel!'"
He paused mid-joke, then a strange silence fell. His heart skipped a beat.
Karl had disappeared behind him and reappeared silently in front, crouched slightly, ready for battle.
Then, a shrill, childlike scream rang out above Jon's head, freezing him in place.
As he instinctively looked up, a confident voice rang in his ears.
"I'll make Eddard Stark treat me to a cow, absolutely!"
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)