-Chapter 52-
-POV Lysa Arryn-
"Have you found my fiancé's ship?" I asked, fixing my gaze on Marwyn Belmore.
He bowed, his fist over his chest, and said in a solemn tone:
"We have found no trace of any ship in the waters of the Vale or in the surrounding ports. The most likely hypothesis is that the ship was caught in a storm and that Lord Bael..."
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! SILENCE! I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ANY MORE! GO FIND MY HUSBAND NOW, BEFORE..."
"This madness has gone on long enough!" shouted Lord Yohn Royce as he entered through the wide-open doors.
Behind him, a crowd of great lords and guards, who were supposed to be in my service, began to surround me and my son, along with the few guards who remained loyal to me.
"What do you think you're doing?" I said, ready to tear them all apart and throw them through the Moon Door, despite their numbers.
"We are bringing justice to our poor lord, Lord Jon Arryn, poisoned by you," said Anya Waynwood, the head of House Waynwood.
A choking sensation gripped my throat, shocked by these accusations. I could no longer think or speak. The only question that kept repeating in my mind was:
'HOW DID THEY FIND OUT?'
"I never did such a thing..." I tried to defend myself, even though I felt that no one believed me. All their gazes were filled with disgust and hatred.
"There is no need to deny it. Here is a letter from Ronnet Connington detailing how you neglected your duties to your husband to throw yourself into the arms of that lowlife, how you caused all the miscarriages of the noble Arryn lineage's children to give birth to your bastard, and finally, here is Robar Royce, my son, who personally extracted all the answers from your lover," said the old lord of Runestone.
These last words enraged me to the highest degree.
'How dare these dogs harm my beloved husband? We were going to live a life full of happiness together, a life where we would no longer have to hide our love, a world where we would be king and queen of this entire continent... A WORLD WITHOUT CAT!'
"YOU DARED TO HARM MY HUSBAND! WELL..."
The world began to spin around me, and the last thing I saw was my headless body and the captain of my guard, Marwyn Belmore, spitting on my corpse before darkness and oblivion engulfed me.
'Pety...'
---
-POV Robb Stark-
-12th day of the 2nd moon of the year 300 AC-
The return of our army had been a long and tedious task, especially with the arrival of winter, the real winter, not the one the southerners complained about, and it was clearly felt by everyone.
Three moons, that's how long it took us to return through the snow, and when we arrived, those filthy Ironborn had long since abandoned our fortresses, surely fearing us.
But every day that passed, I received increasingly dark news.
An attack on a mill, an attack on a farm, an attack on a fishing village, even on small forts occupied by Masters, the Northern equivalent of landed knights.
It continued on and on, without end.
Every day, a new attack. The North was so vast that I couldn't be everywhere at once, and the Ironborn seemed to know it and capitalized on that.
I asked my bannermen for help to deploy troops along the coast and build small forts to station men in case of need, so we could prevent and anticipate the Ironborn attacks, and it worked for a while.
After two or three intercepted attacks, they changed their strategy.
When we arrived in time to protect the village or the farm, they didn't land; they simply fled by sea to attack another place, and when we arrived at the targeted village, everything had already been destroyed.
I sighed deeply, sitting on my seat…
'My father's seat,' I thought, remembering the times I had so longed to sit in his place.
Then I glared at those piled-up letters with hatred.
I knew the Ironborn hadn't developed such tactics on a whim, and that someone was controlling this war between us from the shadows, someone whispering the right tactics to them.
Even though I suspected these attacks were targeted and not random, I still couldn't know what was really going on in their minds because I didn't know who was trying to throw us into such a mess.
'We have so many enemies…'
Balon Greyjoy… Asha Greyjoy… Theon, the filthy traitor… Ronnet Connington… Tywin Fucking Lannister, or maybe even someone I don't know.
I couldn't say for sure, but I would fight to the death to defend my homeland… for Ser Rodrik… Maester Luwin… Rickon… Bran, and especially for my father.
"MY LORD, MY LORD, AN URGENT MESSAGE FROM WHITE HARBOR!"
A shiver ran down my spine, and with a knot in my stomach, while a lump formed in my throat, I opened the message, thinking:
'Noooon, they wouldn't dare, would they?'