Eventually, Serena stood up and clapped her hands together. "Alright, enough stories. You both must be starving. It's time for dinner."
She walked over to the small cold-storage box near the window and pulled out a heavy, cloth-wrapped package. As she unwrapped it, the rich, gamey scent of raw meat filled the room.
It was a prime cut from the massive brown bear Yoriichi had slain moons ago. Serena had sold the vast majority of the beast's meat to passing merchants and wealthy watchmen at an exclusive, luxurious price, making a small fortune. But she had specifically salted, preserved, and kept the absolute best, fattiest cuts for her own family.
She sliced the thick red meat into strips, tossing it into a hot iron skillet over the hearth. The fat instantly sizzled, filling the hut with a mouth-watering aroma. She added wild garlic, crushed black pepper, and imported southern onions, letting the rich flavors melt together.
Lyra sat at the table, swinging her legs, her heightened nose twitching happily. "It smells amazing, Mother."
They ate a hearty, delicious meal. The tough but incredibly flavorful bear meat provided their growing bodies with massive amounts of energy.
Serena watched in quiet amazement as Yoriichi consumed nearly three times the amount of meat an ordinary boy his size should be able to eat. But she understood the biology behind it now. The Total Concentration Breathing they practiced constantly kept their internal body temperatures incredibly high, like a burning furnace. To fuel that furnace and maintain their unnatural muscle density, they needed a massive intake of calories. The bear meat was perfect for it.
By the time they finished, the fire had burned low, casting long, sleepy shadows across the room.
They washed the wooden bowls, said their goodnights, and retreated to their respective beds. Within minutes, the soft, rhythmic breathing of the twins filled the quiet hut.
But Serena did not sleep.
She lay awake in her bed, staring at the wooden ceiling, her mind racing a hundred miles an hour.
Ser Alliser Thorne, the name echoed in her head like a curse.
She had told herself she was ready. She had organized the town, hidden the contraband, and instructed her guards perfectly. But the Master-at-Arms of Castle Black was not a simple thug like Glendon's assassins. Thorne was a hardened veteran of Robert's Rebellion. He had fought on the walls of King's Landing. He was a seasoned, bitter killer who knew how to exploit every weakness in a fight.
If negotiations went sour, and Thorne decided to pull his sword to teach the "arrogant commoner woman" a lesson, Serena knew that sharp words and a pile of gold wouldn't save her.
She needed to know if her physical reflexes were truly sharp enough to block a real knight's blade. She had trained against trees and wooden posts, and she had killed desperate assassins, but she had never faced a master swordsman in a direct duel. She needed to feel the adrenaline of a fight without the immediate risk of dying.
The hearth clock chimed softly, signaling midnight.
Serena quietly slipped out of bed, her bare feet making zero sound on the floorboards. She walked over to Yoriichi's pallet and gently placed a hand over his mouth.
Yoriichi's crimson eyes snapped open instantly in the dark. There was no grogginess, no confusion. His body went completely rigid, his hand instinctively shooting under his pillow toward a hidden dagger.
"Shh," Serena whispered directly into his ear.
Seeing it was his mother, Yoriichi instantly relaxed, though his brow furrowed in deep confusion. He sat up silently. What is it? his eyes asked.
"Come with me," Serena whispered, gesturing for him to follow.
They tiptoed past the sleeping Lyra and moved toward the back corner of the hut. Serena pulled back a heavy rug, revealing a hidden, iron-ringed trapdoor set seamlessly into the floorboards.
She pulled it open, grabbing a lantern, and led her son down a steep flight of stone steps.
Beneath the cozy hut lay a surprisingly spacious, heavily reinforced basement. The walls were packed earth lined with thick ironwood beams. It had taken Serena and Yoriichi nearly two years to secretly excavate this room, hauling out buckets of frozen dirt under the cover of night. It was soundproofed so effectively that a man could scream at the top of his lungs down here and no one on the surface would hear a thing.
It was Serena's secret training room. Along the walls hung various tools of war—iron longswords, wooden practice bokkens, heavy shields, and the broken, bloody shaft of the spear she had used to kill Glendon's assassins years ago.
Serena set the lantern on a sturdy barrel, casting flickering, dramatic shadows across the underground dojo.
She walked over to the weapon rack and pulled down a beautifully carved wooden sword. It was exactly the weight and length of a real castle-forged blade. She turned around and tossed a second wooden sword to Yoriichi.
He caught it effortlessly out of the air, but didn't lower it. He stood perfectly still, his crimson eyes locking onto his mother's face.
"Is there something you do not want to tell me, Mother?" Yoriichi asked quietly, his highly perceptive mind immediately sensing her hidden tension. This sudden, midnight excursion baffled him. "Why are we down here at this hour?"
Serena smiled, a sharp, confident expression that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Nothing is wrong, my sweet boy," Serena lied smoothly, rolling her shoulders. "But sitting at that desk and counting coins every day has cramped my body terribly. I need some proper movement. My blood feels cold."
She took a step forward, raising her wooden blade.
"Besides," Serena added, a playful but dangerous challenge in her voice. "It has been a very long time since you actually showed me your skills. I want to see how much faster you have gotten."
Yoriichi stared at her for a long moment. Through his Transparent World vision, he could see her heart rate elevating, the blood rushing through her veins, her muscles coiling with nervous, anticipatory energy. She was likely lying about simply being cramped. Maybe ser he was preparing for something dangerous.
But he also knew better than to question the Shadow Queen when she had made up her mind.
"If that is what you wish, Mother," Yoriichi said, his voice dropping into a serious, highly focused tone.
He stepped into the center of the earthen floor. He didn't take a traditional Westerosi stance. He lowered his center of gravity, bringing his wooden blade up to his right side, his breathing instantly shifting into the fiery, rhythmic hum.
Serena gripped her sword with both hands, her green eyes flashing with intense focus as she mirrored his breathing technique.
The air in the basement grew incredibly thick. The mother and the prodigy stared each other down in the flickering lantern light, waiting for the first strike.