The council chamber's atmosphere—scorching from Robert's deafening roar.
Eddard Stark felt the world spin.
He looked at Lynn in disbelief, then at Robert, flushed red with excitement.
Madness.
All madness!
A Night's Watchman trading Targaryen orphans' assassination for tournament qualification.
A King—ecstatic over this proposal—willing to grant lordship.
King's Landing—a hundred times more absurd than he'd imagined.
"Good! Good lad!"
Robert's massive hand slammed Lynn's shoulder—force nearly staggering ordinary men.
But Lynn stood motionless, body steady as rock.
"I like your spirit!"
Robert's eyes full of appreciation.
"Not like these soft fools only counting coins!"
He glanced at pale-faced Ned, waving grandly.
"From now on—you have free run of the Red Keep!"
"Best armor in the armory, finest warhorses in the stables—take your pick!"
"I'll watch this wolf pup from the North raise hell in the tournament!"
Robert's promises—Lynn's plan perfectly completed.
His objective achieved.
The moment Ned closed the door, he could no longer suppress inner torment.
He grabbed Lynn's arm, those honest grey eyes filled with pain and accusation.
"Lynn! How could you promise him! How could you trade two children's lives!"
"That's Viserys and Daenerys! Just two children driven from their home!"
Ned's voice trembled with emotion.
Someone he trusted—making such a cold-blooded trade.
Lynn looked at him calmly, letting him vent.
When Ned's voice gradually weakened, he slowly spoke.
"Lord Eddard, you think I care about a knight's title?"
Ned froze.
"Those two children are pitiful—but that so-called 'Beggar King' Viserys is in Pentos, planning to sell his sister to a Dothraki khal with forty thousand riders."
"Forty thousand Dothraki."
"You know better than I what savages they are."
"Once they cross the Narrow Sea—what do you think will happen to Westeros?"
"Riverlands villages, Westerlands towns, even Northern lands—all will become infernos."
"Then it won't be two children dying—but thousands of innocent commoners."
"Am I killing—or saving?"
Lynn stared into Ned's eyes.
"I'm protecting you. Protecting House Stark. Protecting the North. Protecting all of Westeros!"
Ned couldn't quite believe it.
"But they won't have enough ships!"
"And even if they cross—we can repel them!"
Lynn shook his head.
"My lord, you seem to forget."
"I have prophetic ability."
"I saw with my own eyes—Targaryens riding dragons, turning all of King's Landing into hell!"
Ned's expression—horrified.
"What—dragons?"
Lynn—satisfied with Ned's reaction—nodded.
"Yes. Dragons."
"Not just one—three!"
"They have no honor whatsoever. Slaughtering King's Landing's entire population."
"Moreover—to prove I speak truth."
"I'll personally bring back these three dragon eggs."
"If I can't—my head remains here. You may take it freely."
"You understand better than I what three dragons mean."
Seeing Lynn's certainty, Ned's face turned from red to white, finally ashen.
He released his grip, staggering back two steps.
Yes.
He only saw those two Targaryen orphans—forgetting the massive disaster they might bring.
Targaryens can control dragons—no secret.
As Warden of the North, as Hand of the King—his duty was protecting the entire realm.
For the realm—sacrificing two Targaryens was proper.
This thought—making him feel self-loathing.
"But... only one true dragon. That Daenerys..." Ned made final struggle.
"My target was always only Viserys."
Lynn said lightly.
"That poor girl—just his trade goods."
"I promise not to touch her."
"I only want Viserys's head!"
These words—completely shattered Ned's last defense.
He remained silent long, finally sighing deeply—as if aging ten years instantly.
"I understand."
"Whatever you need—I'll fully support you."
He could no longer distinguish right from wrong in Lynn's plan—only choose to trust.
Because in King's Landing now—Lynn was the only one he could trust.
That afternoon, Lynn was arranged in an independent tower within the Red Keep.
Quiet environment, tight security—perfect.
Arya pestered Lynn, but was soon retrieved by Ned to the Tower of the Hand to learn swordplay from Syrio.
The little girl—glancing back repeatedly while leaving, face full of reluctance—finally made a face at Lynn before departing satisfied.
Only Lynn remained in the room.
He sat by the window, smile fading.
Looking at bustling King's Landing in the distance—yet gaze piercing through city, through sea, toward the distant East.
Daenerys.
Can't wait any longer.
Once she's sold to the khal—everything becomes irreversible!
He opened his attribute panel.
[Remaining Experience: 588]
"System, raise 'Skinchanger' level."
[Consume 10 experience to raise "Skinchanger (Beginner)" to "Skinchanger (Proficient)"?]
"Yes."
[Skinchanger (Proficient) 1/10]
[Consume 100 experience to raise to "Skinchanger (Master)"?]
[Remaining Experience: 378]
A profound information stream flooded his mind.
Lynn's understanding of Spirit and skinchanger abilities—deepened another layer.
Lynn locked the door, ensuring safety, then sat cross-legged on the bed.
He closed his eyes, condensing his terrifying 25 Spirit to the extreme.
This time—Lynn's target no longer anywhere on Westeros.
But across the Narrow Sea. The Free Cities. Pentos.
A name. A vague image—emerging in his mind.
Daenerys Targaryen.
He softly called this name.
HUMMM—
Lynn's consciousness violently launched!
The entire world instantly shattered into billions of bizarre fragments!
A hundred times harder than invading Jaime's consciousness!
Endless ocean. Roaring storms.
Countless years of shipwreck dead's resentment—transformed into most violent turbulence in this spiritual sea, trying to tear his foreign consciousness to shreds!
Lynn held fast to his mind. His Spirit became a small boat, struggling through this furious sea.
Unknown how long passed.
That soul-tearing agony finally receded.
He suddenly opened his "eyes."
First sensation—warmth.
Soaked in warm water mixed with strange flower fragrance.
He "saw" a pair of snow-white, slender arms gently moving across water floating with petals.
Vision lifted slightly—a luxuriously decorated bathhouse. Walls of pink marble. Air filled with steamy vapor and sweet spice scent.
He succeeded.
He'd reached Pentos. Entered Daenerys's body.
Just then—a gentle female voice from outside the door.
"Princess, time to prepare for tonight's meeting."
Tonight's meeting?
Lynn's heart sank.
The meeting with Drogo!
Damn!
Lynn forced himself calm, controlling this delicate body to rise from the bath.
Water-dripping exquisite form—crystalline in sunlight.
Handmaids filed in, drying Lynn with soft silk, changing into a nearly transparent purple gown.
Lynn didn't resist. He knew—not the time.
He needed an opportunity. A chance alone with this body.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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