“The reply from Highgarden has arrived,” Nyria said, beaming as she walked through the door and placed the letter in Lynd's hands.
Six days had passed since the letter announcing the discovery of the silver mine was sent by ship to Highgarden. As before, the raven had carried it to Bitterbridge, where a rider then delivered it. Now, the long-awaited reply had finally reached them.
Without even glancing at the letter, Nyria promptly delivered it to Lynd. He took the letter, noting the wax seal still intact, and broke it open. His brows furrowed slightly as he read its contents.
“What? Highgarden has not granted coinage rights?” Nyria asked suspiciously, noticing his change in expression.
Lynd said nothing, instead handing the letter to Nyria. She read it herself, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the simple missive, which contained only three succinct lines addressing separate matters.
The first line stated that the Lord Paramount had agreed to grant Tumbleton the right to mint coins but required information on the size of the silver mine. Highgarden had also contacted the Citadel to dispatch a Maester to Tumbleton to assist Nyria with mining and coin minting operations. It was evident that Highgarden sought a stake in the mine’s riches. Even if they couldn’t control the mine itself, they aid to secure a role in the coinage process, which directly impacted their interests. Moreover, they intended to formalize the discovery by notifying the Seven Kingdoms and the Iron Throne, thereby assuming the political pressure from the Westerlands.
The second line emphasized the importance of shipping on the Mander River, urging Nyria to increase the number of ships. Although traffic on The Roseroad had resud, supported by cavalry patrols, it remained vulnerable to bandits, and its longer transit tis made river transport more efficient. Highgarden had offered to fund the construction of ships and docks to expand the waterway’s capacity. However, neither Lynd nor Nyria considered this offer—Tumbleton’s prosperity depended on the waterway, and they wouldn’t allow outside interference.
The third line concerned Lynd directly, instructing him to settle Tumbleton’s affairs and return to Highgarden before the month’s end. This directive explained Lynd’s frown.
“No, how can you leave now? Absolutely not,” Nyria declared, tearing the letter apart in frustration. “Let’s just pretend we never received it.”
Lynd chuckled at her impulsive reaction. “This letter wasn’t delivered by a raven; it ca by ssenger. Tearing it up changes nothing.”
“Then why don’t we just get rid of the ssenger?” Nyria suggested, her tone fierce.
Lynd shook his head. “It’s not about the ssenger. Even if you deal with one, Highgarden will send another. Do you plan to eliminate every ssenger they send? That would only raise more suspicions.”
Nyria’s face darkened as she fell silent, deep in thought. After a mont, as though making a monuntal decision, she took a deep breath and turned to Lynd.
“Let’s get engaged,” she announced boldly. “You, Lynd Tarran, as my suitor, will be my betrothed.”
The room fell silent. Nyria’s two handmaidens, Bert and Maester Yves—who had been waiting to report on bridge repairs—and even the personal guards at the door all stared at her in stunned disbelief. Nyria’s face flushed crimson, her embarrassnt palpable.
Lynd was equally stunned. He hadn’t expected such a declaration and was montarily at a loss for words.
Although Lynd initially saw Nyria as rely a collaborator—a partner who could help him accumulate his initial capital—his feelings toward her had grown over ti. As they got to know each other, he developed a genuine fondness for her straightforward nature.
However, marrying Nyria, becoming the husband of the Lady of Tumbleton, and even assuming her position as the Lord of Tumbleton were never serious considerations for him. In fact, these options were at the bottom of his list, only to be entertained if all his other plans failed.
This reluctance stemd not only from his confidence in his abilities but also from his view of Tumbleton as a place suitable only for those content with the status quo. The region’s geography inherently limited its potential for expansion. Moreover, its unique position ensured that the surrounding great Lords would never permit a powerful leader to control it.
Nyria, as a woman, could develop Tumbleton into a prosperous and formidable domain. Yet the surrounding Lords, steeped in discrimination and misconceptions about won, would downplay her achievents and fail to see Tumbleton as a threat. Lynd, however, was different. Were he to control Tumbleton, his leadership would likely alarm the neighboring Lords, including those in Highgarden.
When Lynd didn’t respond imdiately to Nyria’s sudden proposal, and with the astonished gazes of those around them adding to the tension, Nyria’s blush deepened, turning into embarrassnt and irritation. She felt a powerful urge to vanish into the ground to escape the mont.
Just as she was about to lower her head and retreat in mortification, Lynd stood, took her hand gently, and gestured for everyone else in the room to leave.
“You really surprised today,” he said, motioning for her to sit. Then, looking her directly in the eyes, he continued, “I have a good impression of you, and if I were to choose a wife right now, it would definitely be you.”
Hearing his words, Nyria couldn’t help but smile. Yet, she sensed there was more to his statent, and whatever was left unsaid wasn’t going to be what she wanted to hear.
“But I cannot marry you,” Lynd added, as she had anticipated.
“The reason!” Nyria demanded, her voice calm yet firm. There was no anger in her tone, only determination.
Lynd didn’t shy away. He shared part of his plans and ambitions, outlining the potential disadvantages of their union in detail. His explanation was asured, laying out the challenges they would face should they marry.
As she listened, Nyria’s initial embarrassnt faded. Her expression steadied, and she gave thoughtful consideration to Lynd’s words. Reluctantly, she found herself acknowledging that her proposal might have been sowhat impulsive.
After reflecting, she admitted to herself that she held a good impression of Lynd—perhaps even a hint of love—but she also realized it was indeed too soon to consider marriage.
"I'll forget what I just said—and you should too," Nyria said, composing herself. She took a few deep breaths, suppressed her embarrassnt, and did her best to appear calm.
“Yes, my lady,” Lynd nodded in response.
Nyria asked in a low voice, “What now? You're being transferred back to Highgarden, so are you just going to give up on everything here and leave it to ?”
“I think we’ve both misunderstood,” Lynd said, picking up the torn letter from the ground. Piecing together the final sentence, he examined it closely and continued, “It seems Highgarden only wants to return alone. The cavalry patrols are to remain here to continue the anti-bandit mission.”
Nyria speculated, “Do you think they’re going to send soone else to take credit for your work?”
“It’s possible, but I think it’s highly unlikely,” Lynd replied, shaking his head. He analyzed further, “You are the Lady of Tumbleton, and the cavalry patrols need your permission to operate here. The influential figures in Highgarden may excel at scheming for power, but they wouldn’t be foolish enough to think they could seize control of everything with a single appointnt. House Tyrell would never permit such a breach of faith.”
He paused briefly and added, “Still, we shouldn’t be unprepared. Before I leave, I’ll assign you the n of the Gravel Tribe. I’ll take Jon with . Bert will be removed from his role as steward and reassigned to serve in your domain as a minor official. As for the Second Cavalary of the Scarred Eye—they’re sellswords—I’ll have him take so of them and integrate them into your garrison. For now, they’ll serve as rangers. The Tyrell-appointed cavalry patrols will remain in the barracks under Bryn’s command.”
Nyria nodded, her expression resolute. “Well, I know what to do. If soone really is sent from Highgarden to replace you, I’ll make that person disappear. There are plenty of bandits here anyway; accidental deaths happen all the ti.”
Lynd did not object to Nyria’s blunt statent. In truth, if Highgarden did send soone to supplant him, decisive action might indeed be necessary.
Before he departed, Nyria addressed the people present with unwavering seriousness. She stressed the critical importance of maintaining confidentiality and the severe consequences of leaking any sensitive information. Although Nyria was typically composed, no one doubted her resolve at that mont, and everyone present took the initiative to forget the earlier scene in the room.
There were still more than ten days remaining until the end of the month, as indicated in the letter. This gave Lynd ample ti, as the journey down the Mander River to Highgarden required only four or five days. With this ti, he began arranging matters with ticulous care. He summoned nearly every officer and captain under his command to provide detailed instructions for managing operations after his departure.
Though the letter rely ordered him to return to Highgarden without specifying the reason, Lynd suspected that his stay there could be prolonged. It might be a while before he could return to Tumbleton, so he resolved to ensure that every detail of his responsibilities was addressed thoroughly.
Everything proceeded according to Lynd's plan in an orderly manner. He spent an entire day organizing affairs and intended to dedicate a few more days to clearing out nearby bandits to lessen Nyria's burdens after his departure.
However, plans often fail to keep pace with changes. A letter from King's Landing suddenly made his previously ample ti feel tight.
The letter was delivered by n in Varys’s service, containing only a brief ssage requesting Lynd to make a trip to King’s Landing, with no further explanation. Nonetheless, Lynd could guess that it might involve the weapons and armor forged from Valyrian steel.
Nearly six months had passed since he had last discussed Valyrian steel with Varys. With no follow-up communication, Lynd had assud that Varys had encountered difficulties in recasting Valyrian steel or had been preoccupied with other matters. Consequently, Lynd refrained from inquiring further. Now, with this unexpected letter, two possibilities ca to mind: either the recasting had failed, or it had succeeded.
Traveling to and from King’s Landing would take several days, even with relentless travel day and night. Recognizing the urgency, Lynd wasted no ti. After briefing his subordinates and Nyria about the situation, he set out for King’s Landing with three riders.
Glory wanted to accompany him, but Lynd stopped it. He instructed Glory to patrol the surrounding wildling tribes near Tumbleton to maintain a deterrent presence and prevent disruptions in his absence.
As Lynd anticipated, his journey was grueling. He rode with three horses, switching mounts but not riders, pushing through the nights without rest. Despite the restored road from Tumbleton to The Roseroad, which eliminated the need to navigate rugged mountain paths, the journey still took nearly three days. By the ti Lynd reached King’s Landing, two of the horses had collapsed from exhaustion, and the last one was on the brink of collapse as well.
Upon arrival, Lynd didn’t have ti to contemplate his return journey. A small bird sent by Varys t him at the city gate and promptly escorted him to a secluded villa near Shadow Alley.
The Shadow Alley, situated close to the Red Keep, bordered the residences of the capital’s elite on the slopes of Aegon’s High Hill. A boy who clearly hailed from Flea Bottom and an ard, cloaked stranger like Lynd stood out conspicuously in this district. Lynd couldn’t fathom why Varys had chosen such a location for their eting.
Inside the villa, Lynd did not find Varys waiting. It was evident that Varys was still occupied in the Red Keep.
It was only after half an hour or so that Varys hurriedly arrived. Upon seeing Lynd, he bowed and said, “Ser Lynd, it's been almost half a year...”
Lynd interrupted him sharply. “Lord Varys, after I received your letter, I imdiately set off from Tumbleton, traveling day and night for three days, exhausting three of The Reach's finest warhorses. I ca here to see you, so spare the pleasantries and get straight to the point—why was I summoned to King's Landing?”
“My lord, don’t worry. Please follow ,” Varys replied smoothly, leading Lynd into a small room. He opened a cabinet, revealing a hidden door behind it. Pushing the secret door open, he guided Lynd down a set of stairs into a basent.
The basent was not particularly large, resembling a storage area for food. Various miscellaneous items were stacked around, and the room had the feel of a space that hadn’t been accessed in a long ti.
In one corner, Varys moved so of the stacked items aside, revealing sothing hidden beneath them.
It was a corpse—a frozen corpse. From the attire, it appeared to have been a servant.
In another context, perhaps in a location equipped with refrigeration, the presence of a frozen corpse might not have been so shocking. But this was King’s Landing. Even though the autumn rains had ended and winter was approaching, the city was still stiflingly hot, with no snow or ice to be found.
Yet, here was a frozen corpse, showing no signs of thawing, lying in front of him. The sight left Lynd incredulous.
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