“My energy will be entirely devoted to researching this ancient knowledge in the future, so you should delegate the roles of Speaker of the Council of Governnt and Chief Administrator to soone else,” Malora declared after finalizing the details of the laboratory's construction.
Lynd felt a sudden headache upon hearing her words—he simply had no suitable candidate for the position of Speaker of the Council of Governnt.
This was an incredibly crucial role, holding the highest authority in the territory, second only to himself. The Speaker wielded imnse power, even able to temporarily act in his place when he was absent. Without both capability and absolute trust, no one could be allowed to assu the position.
“No, you’ll have to continue serving as Speaker for now. At least until I find a suitable replacent,” Lynd imdiately rejected her request.
Malora was uncompromising. “No, I need to personally oversee the laboratory’s construction to prevent the craftsn from making mistakes. Besides, the chairmanship has already taken up too much of my ti. I refuse to waste any more on sothing so pointless.”
Lynd was just as firm. “It’s easy for you to walk away, but if you do, everything else will grind to a halt. Whether you like it or not, you will stay in that position until I find a replacent.”
He didn’t give Malora a chance to argue and warned, “Don’t even think about acting rashly. If my territory falls into chaos because of this, I’ll strip you of your right to experint, lock you out of your newly built laboratory, and hand all your experintal resources over to Qyburn.”
“You—” Malora was so enraged that she couldn’t speak. She wanted to push back, but after so many years together, she knew all too well that when Lord Lynd made a decision, he enforced it ruthlessly. Confronting him head-on would only make things worse for her.
“My lord, Lady Malora, there’s no need for the two of you to argue over this,” Qyburn interjected, breaking the tense atmosphere.
In truth, Qyburn had no intention of helping Malora. On the contrary, he would have been pleased to see her locked out of the laboratory for defying Lynd. That would an gaining access to her share of experintal resources and, more importantly, the mysterious knowledge she controlled.
However, he also understood that even if Malora were temporarily locked out, Lynd would eventually let her back in. When that happened, she might not dare to retaliate against Lynd, but she would have no qualms about taking revenge on him.
Not wanting to beco collateral damage in their dispute, he had no choice but to step in with a solution.
“In fact, my lord, there has always been soone by your side who can take Lord Malora’s place. There’s no need to waste ti searching for a candidate,” Qyburn said.
Lynd and Malora exchanged puzzled looks. Neither had any idea who Qyburn was referring to.
“It is Lady Nyria,” Qyburn revealed directly. “She is the person Lord Lynd trusts the most. Her administrative skills are more than sufficient to manage the affairs of the cabinet. Furthermore, Lady Nyria’s territory and the Lord’s territory are now nearly indistinguishable—many of their affairs are intertwined and dependent on one another. Since that is the case, why not unify their administration and handle them as a single entity?”
“The rger of territories isn’t as simple as you make it sound…” Malora frowned.
“No! I never said the territories should be rged—each will remain distinct. I’m suggesting only that their governance be handled collectively,” Qyburn clarified.
“You’re right,” Lynd nodded. She is indeed a suitable replacent… but will Nyria agree? He then turned to Malora. “If Nyria agrees, you will transfer the administration to her within the next few days. If she refuses, you’ll continue holding the position until I find a suitable candidate. That is my decision.”
Without giving Malora an opportunity to protest, he turned and walked out of her office.
Back at the official residence, Lynd inford Nyria about the selection of a new head for the cabinet.
After listening, Nyria did not give an imdiate answer. Instead, she said she wanted to discuss it with the officials of her territory before making a decision.
Lynd had no objection to this but asked her to provide an answer as soon as possible so that he would have ti to find a replacent for Malora if necessary.
Though he had acted decisively, he was well aware that Malora’s mind was now entirely preoccupied with the pursuit of ancient and mysterious knowledge. Even if forced to remain in the political advisory cabinet, she would not give her full attention to the role. It would be far more beneficial to find a replacent and allow her to focus on her research.
Lynd did not linger in the territory for long. Once he had finished handling miscellaneous tasks, he left Sumrhall and traveled to Grassy Vale, where he boarded a boat downstream to Highgarden. His purpose was to deliver the Winter Horn to Willas.
This ti, however, he was not traveling alone. Nyria accompanied him—not just because she didn’t want to wait for his return in the territory, but also because she had heard rumors that Highgarden possessed a type of magic dicine that could help won conceive.
Lynd found the idea laughable, yet he refrained from mocking Nyria’s belief. He understood how desperately she longed for a child, and in a world where monsters and supernatural forces existed, he could not entirely dismiss the possibility that such a dicine might truly exist.
Since there was no urgency to their journey, they traveled at a leisurely pace, taking the boat provided by the Lord of Grassy Vale and floating slowly downstream. What would have been a two- or three-day journey took them eight.
Upon their arrival, Nyria and her companions searched for the rumored magic dicine in the town outside the castle, while Lynd went alone to et Willas. However, Willas was not the only one present—Lord Mace’s family had also gathered in the Three-Hearted Tree Godswood, where Willas often spent his ti, eager to see the legendary Winter Horn for themselves.
“Is this the Winter Horn? It looks rather ordinary,” Garlan and Loras remarked in unison as Lynd retrieved the artifact and handed it to Willas.
“What the eye sees is not necessarily the truth,” Willas said as he examined the horn. Then, he passed it to his younger siblings and the rest of the family, allowing them to inspect it in turn.
“Thank you for your efforts, Lord Lynd,” Willas said, bowing in gratitude.
Lynd smiled. “It was also an opportunity to explore the Land of Always Winter and encounter so legendary beings. A worthwhile journey.”
“Lord Lynd, is it true that you have subdued a group of giants?” Margaery asked curiously.
“Yes. They are now stationed at the Redemption Sept as guards,” Lynd replied. “If Lady Margaery ever visits Sumrhall, she is welco to see them for herself.”
The conversation soon turned to the White Walkers and the Wildling tribes. Though Lord Mace had already recounted much of what had transpired at the Small Council, hearing the firsthand account from soone who had been there was a different experience altogether.
Even after Lynd had finished his account, the group remained full of questions. However, knowing they should not occupy Willas and Lynd’s ti any further, they soon took their leave.
“Father, let keep the Horn of Winter for a few days before you send soone to deliver it to the Red Keep,” Willas said, stopping Lord Mace and gesturing toward the horn in his hand.
Lord Mace hesitated briefly before nodding and handing the Winter Horn to Willas. He then ordered several teams to guard the periter of the Godswood to ensure its protection.
Once everyone else had left, Willas instructed Vortir to push him to the small pool at the center of the Three-Hearted Tree. When they reached the pool, he had Vortir place the Winter Horn into the water.
The mont the horn touched the surface, Lynd caught a flicker of magical light emanating from it. Instinctively, he shifted his vision to the vision of Glory and was t with a striking sight—Garth Greenhand, the legendary Greenhand himself, raising a Magic Hamr high and striking it down onto the Winter Horn upon an anvil. With each blow, another layer of a magical shell ford around the horn, as if reinforcing the seal on the power contained within.
Lynd did not linger on the vision for long and quickly withdrew his gaze. By that ti, Willas had already directed Vortir to push him back in front of Lynd before dismissing his attendant.
“Did you also bring the dragon egg you obtained in Sumrhall?” Willas asked as Vortir disappeared into the woods.
“Yes.” Lynd retrieved the dragon egg from his backpack and handed it to Willas.
Willas took the egg into his hands and examined it carefully. “It’s alive, not a dead egg. It’s rely dormant, and it won’t wake up for so ti.”
Lynd nodded. “I know. Soone already told .”
“The one from the Kingswood?” Willas guessed.
“You know her?” Lynd was mildly surprised.
“I only learned of her recently,” Willas admitted, his tone carrying a trace of admiration. “She is truly remarkable. Unlike the Children of the Forest, she has chosen a different path. Now, all she needs is the right opportunity to complete her final tamorphosis.”
“Final tamorphosis?” Lynd mused. “Do you an… becoming a deity?”
“No.” Willas shook his head. “If we’re talking about gods, then the power you and I wield could have been considered divine during the Age of Dawn and the Age of Heroes. Gods are not rare. A tree, a river, even a mountain can beco a god. But a truly eternal existence—now that is rare. I will never reach that state. You, perhaps, might. And she… she is only one step away.”
“I didn’t expect you to think so highly of her,” Lynd said, unconcerned. “To , she’s just a friend.”
“Friends.” Willas smiled. “We are friends as well, aren’t we?”
“Of course.” Lynd nodded.
Willas’ smile deepened as he handed the dragon egg back to Lynd. “I may have a way to accelerate the hatching of this egg. Would you like to try it?”
Lynd took the egg and thought for a mont before shaking his head. “No. I think it’s better to let it hatch naturally.”
His decision was not just because he knew the Red Cot was the key to awakening the dragon egg and that Willas’ thod was bound to fail. He also recalled Spark’s warning—do not get too involved with the Chosen of the Old Gods. And Willas, as the Chosen or even the incarnation of Garth Greenhand, was precisely such a being.
Seeing that Lynd had declined, Willas did not press the matter. They continued their conversation for a while, and just as their eting was coming to an end, a sea eagle suddenly swooped down from the sky. When it reached the top of Willas’ head, its wings trembled slightly, slowing its descent until it landed gently beside his chair.
Willas retrieved a small piece of parchnt from the bird’s leg, read its contents, then glanced at Lynd with an amused expression before handing the note to him.
The ssage reported that Nyria had found Willas’ secret apothecary shop and was seeking to purchase a few bottles of the so-called miraculous dicine that could help a woman conceive. The shop’s attendant, recognizing Nyria’s special status, had chosen not to sell the dicine imdiately. Instead, under the pretense of restocking, he had contacted Willas to seek further instructions.
Even though Lynd typically paid little attention to such matters, it was undeniably awkward to have sothing so personal known to outsiders.
“I can probably guess the situation,” Willas said, suppressing a chuckle. “It’s likely because you are too strong and she is too weak, which makes conception difficult.”
His tone quickly turned serious. “There are two solutions. One: you weaken yourself to the point where you are on equal footing with Lady Nyria. If you both reach the sa level, the likelihood of conception will increase. But… I don’t think you should attempt this thod. So that leaves the second option—strengthening Lady Nyria’s body in a short period of ti. If she becos strong enough to withstand your strength, her chances of conceiving will be much higher.”
Lynd narrowed his eyes slightly. “From what you’re saying, do you have the ans to make Nyria strong enough in a short period of ti?”
“Yes.” Willas nodded and rang a small bell to summon Vortir. When the attendant arrived, Willas instructed him to retrieve a bronze box from the bookshelf in his quarters.
A short while later, Vortir returned, carrying a square bronze box. He placed it on Willas’ lap before silently withdrawing once again.
Willas opened the box and carefully removed four fist-sized glass bottles filled with a thick, fuchsia liquid. Even through the glass, Lynd could sense the potent magic radiating from the potion—it carried an almost tangible essence of vitality, a feeling of nature’s resurgence.
“This is a potion I developed,” Willas explained. “If you and Lady Nyria each drink one before resting, her body will gradually strengthen to a level comparable to yours, significantly increasing her chances of conceiving.”
Lynd took the potion and examined it closely. “Is this sothing you can produce in large quantities?”
“Absolutely not,” Willas replied firmly. “It took over a year to refine this batch. I had originally intended to give it to Vortir before sending him to the Land of Always Winter in search of the Horn of Winter. But since I found a more suitable candidate in you, I didn’t use it on him.”
He added, “The creation process is extrely complex and a great strain on . I doubt I will make another batch. So if you choose to use it, do so wisely—don’t waste it.”
Lynd remained silent in thought. Despite Spark’s warning about getting too involved with the Chosen of the Old Gods, he ultimately decided to take the four bottles. He planned to return and have Malora analyze the potion’s composition before making any decision about giving it to Nyria.
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