Arya was about to retort again, but a single glance from Lynn silenced her.
In the camp, everyone's eyes were fixed on this silent confrontation.
Lynn remained seated calmly.
He picked up a twig and poked at the campfire before him.
Sparks flew up, tracing brief, bright arcs through the air.
"Love?"
Lynn finally spoke.
His voice was soft, yet it cut clearly through the crackling of the burning wood.
"The Lannisters seem to be experts on the subject."
Tyrion shrugged.
"I know a thing or two."
Lynn smiled.
It was a faint smile, looking somewhat inscrutable in the firelight.
"I've heard a story about love, actually."
Lynn's gaze shifted from the dancing flames to Tyrion's face.
"It's a love story, too."
"And the hero of this tale was a Lannister."
Tyrion's body went rigid in an instant.
His hand, gripping the wineskin, tightened involuntarily.
"Oh?"
Tyrion tried to keep his tone light.
"We Lannisters have many stories."
"I wonder which one you mean?"
Lynn ignored Tyrion's feigned composure.
He simply continued speaking, as if to himself.
His voice was devoid of emotion, as if he were recounting an ancient legend that had nothing to do with him.
"The story goes that there was a young Lannister."
"He saved a girl who was being set upon by brigands."
"She was fleeing, with two men chasing after her."
"His brother drew his sword and drove off the attackers with a few strokes."
"The young Lannister took off his own cloak and wrapped it around the girl."
Every word from Lynn fell like a heavy hammer on Tyrion's heart.
The color was draining from Tyrion's face at a visible rate.
The smile on his face had completely frozen, turning into a grotesque mask.
"She was a common girl, a wheelwright's daughter."
"When he saved her, she was starving."
"He took her to an inn, where they shared three whole roast chickens and a flagon of wine."
Jon and Arya looked at the two of them in confusion.
They didn't understand why a simple story would make Tyrion look so ill.
Only Benjen Stark frowned slightly, sensing something amiss.
Lynn's voice continued.
It wasn't loud, but it held a strange power that plunged the entire camp into a deathly silence.
"The strange thing was, he didn't really drink, yet he downed half the flagon."
"He didn't want the girl to notice his... physical shortcomings."
"He wasn't good with women."
"So he used the wine to numb himself to the reality he didn't want to accept."
"Women usually just stared at his brother, because his brother was tall and handsome. He feared that."
"But this girl was different."
"She was gentle, considerate, and willing to look past all his imperfections."
"And so, the young Lannister fell in love with the girl."
"They shared a bed, whispered sweet nothings."
"She even sang a sad little song for him."
"In the end, they found a drunken septon, stuffed a few gold dragons in his hand, and got married in a haze."
Thump.
The wineskin slipped from Tyrion's hand and hit the ground.
The dark red wine seeped into the dirty snow beneath his feet, spreading like a shocking stain of blood.
He wanted to say something.
But his throat felt as if it were being squeezed by an invisible hand; no sound would come out.
Lynn finally raised his eyes, looking directly into Tyrion's mismatched ones, now wide with shock and fear.
"A pity."
"Two weeks later, the septon sobered up."
"He told the boy's father."
"The father made the boy's brother spill the truth."
"It was all a lie."
"The girl was just a whore."
"Hired by his father for a few coins."
"All to teach him a lesson on becoming a 'man'."
"From the chase, to the brother's rescue, to the inn, the drunken septon..."
"Everything was arranged in advance."
Boom!
It was as if a thunderclap had exploded in Tyrion's mind.
The memory he had spent a lifetime trying to bury, to forget, was being dug up by Lynn in the cruelest way possible, bloody and raw.
Exposed for all to see.
Lynn stood up.
He looked down at Tyrion, who was slumped on the ground, trembling.
Lynn's voice was ice cold.
"And the end of the story."
"His father, to ensure he learned the lesson."
"Called his new bride into the barracks."
"He had the guards of the entire garrison line up and take turns enjoying his wife."
"The price was fair. One silver stag per man, payable to the husband."
"How many whores command such a price?"
"And he... he was forced to watch the whole time. And at the end, he was forced to pay his new wife the final coin. A gold dragon."
"She earned so many silvers she couldn't hold them all."
"The shining coins slipped through her fingers and scattered on the floor."
Arya looked sick; she couldn't bear to hear it.
Jon's face was complicated.
The story was too cruel; he found it hard to accept.
He tried to imagine himself in the protagonist's shoes.
He felt only a heart-wrenching pain.
Lynn leaned down slightly, bringing his mouth close to Tyrion's ear.
In a voice only the two of them could hear, he spoke the name that was like a curse.
"Is that right?"
"The girl named Tysha."
The last word completely shattered Tyrion's defenses.
"Aaaahhhh—!"
A roar that didn't sound human, filled with endless pain and rage, erupted from Tyrion's throat.
He snapped his head up.
There was no trace of humor or composure left in his eyes.
Only the madness of a wounded beast.
He stared deathly hard at Lynn.
As if he wanted to carve the face of the man before him into his very bones.
He had always hidden this.
His brother and father would certainly never reveal this secret to the outside world.
How does Lynn know?
Lynn slowly straightened up, looking down at Tyrion.
"Now, do you believe I receive guidance from the Old Gods?"
"Less guessing. Less talking."
"I don't like people judging me."
"Do you understand, my noble Lord Lannister?"
Tyrion tried to compose his face.
But he simply couldn't.
Lynn bent down again and patted Tyrion on the shoulder.
"Sorry. I shouldn't have said all that."
"However, I want to tell you something."
"The result you saw isn't necessarily the truth."
A few simple, ordinary words, yet they triggered a violent reaction in Tyrion.
He jerked his head up, staring straight into Lynn's eyes.
"What do you mean by that?"
"What else do you know?"