The Black Stone Fortress was originally constructed as a military stronghold, so it was no surprise that its facilities were primarily utilitarian. The small garden within it had been added later, and it was, by any asure, modest. After witnessing the grandeur of the gardens in Highgarden and the High Tower, this one could only be described as simple.
Still, for so young n and won, this secluded little garden was a rare haven of joy.
Unfortunately for them, when Lynd led Glory into the garden, they scrambled out of the flowers in a panic, hastily grabbing their clothes before fleeing. In monts, the garden was left empty, save for Lynd and Glory.
Although Lynd had recently soothed Glory, the unease the creature felt since arriving at the High Tower persisted. Its agitation showed in its restless pacing across the garden square. From ti to ti, Glory would glance upward at the dragon souls bound to the High Tower, releasing a low, discontented growl.
Lynd placed no restrictions on Glory’s movents. He remained in the garden, his gaze fixed on the High Tower—not on the swirling energies of resentful spirits or the dragon soul, but on the intricate, enigmatic patterns adorning the tower. It was the first magical structure he had encountered that appeared to possess a complete and cohesive system. Though the aning of the patterns eluded him entirely, he felt certain they held potential value for him.
“You saw it too, didn’t you?” A voice interrupted his thoughts as footsteps approached from a distance. Lynd turned his head to see a woman dressed in a black jewel-encrusted gown, her attire reminiscent of Dornish fashion, walking toward him. Without preamble, she posed her question.
Lynd didn’t answer imdiately. Instead, he inclined his head with calm indifference and said, “Your Ladyship Malora.”
The woman frowned. “It’s Lady Malora. I am not wed.”
The woman before him was Malora Hightower, the eldest daughter of Lord Leyton and sister to Lady Alerie—a mber of House Hightower infamous as the “Mad Maid.” On the journey to Oldtown, Willas had briefed Lynd on many of the prominent noble families, and House Hightower was, of course, among the most significant.
When speaking of House Hightower, Willas ntioned the others only briefly. But when it ca to his maternal aunt Malora Hightower, he seed to have endless stories to share.
Though many outsiders referred to Malora as mad, Willas expressed nothing but admiration for her. In her youth, she had disguised herself as a man to gain entry to the Citadel. There, her remarkable intellect enabled her to forge seven chain links in a few short years, granting her access to the study of the occult. However, her pursuits of forbidden knowledge led to her discovery and eventual expulsion from the Citadel—a scandal that gave rise to rumors of her madness.
So claid that her ntal instability stemd from exposure to the forbidden knowledge she had uncovered during her studies. Others believed her behavior simply made her an easy target for slander by her family’s enemies. Lord Leyton himself had investigated the origins of these rumors, concluding that most were fabrications.
The tales most closely associated with Malora’s supposed madness included her peculiar experints in her private alchemy room, where servants and guards claid to have seen dismbered animal corpses carried away to be burned outside the Black Stone Fortress. Additionally, there were accounts of her staring at the walls of the High Tower in the dead of night, muttering cryptic phrases.
Despite Lord Leyton’s efforts to suppress these stories, they spread throughout Oldtown and beyond, centing Malora’s reputation as a madwoman. However, Malora seed utterly indifferent to public opinion. Since her expulsion from the Citadel, she had secluded herself in her quarters and alchemy lab, rarely interacting with the outside world. Her tarnished reputation mattered little to her—certainly less than the tools in her lab.
Even so, for occasions like today’s banquet, where the heir of Highgarden and Lord Leyton’s grandson were guests, Lord Leyton insisted on the attendance of all his family mbers. Thus, Malora made an appearance.
When she entered the banquet hall, a stunned silence fell over the room. Part of it stemd from her notorious reputation, but there was another reason—the years had done nothing to diminish Malora’s youth and beauty.
It should be noted that Malora was only a year younger than Baelor Hightower, the eldest son of Lord Leyton. However, when she stood next to Baelor, they looked like father and daughter. When she stood next to Lord Leyton, they appeared more like grandfather and granddaughter. Even when compared to Lynesse Hightower, the youngest of their sisters, Malora looked younger.
In addition to her age-defying appearance, Malora possessed the beauty common to Hightower won—but hers surpassed them all. In the eyes of the crowd, Malora's beauty far exceeded that of the others. Even Lynesse, known as the Star of High Tower, paled in comparison.
In short, Malora appeared to be the age of a maiden who had just reached adulthood, yet her beauty exuded maturity and elegance. The coexistence of these contrasting qualities gave her an extraordinary allure.
At that mont, many in the crowd forgot the years of bad reputation attached to Malora and began entertaining thoughts of marrying her. Even those who rembered her reputation dismissed it, thinking her beauty alone could outweigh any scandal.
However, Lynd saw Malora differently.
What stood out to him was the peculiar energy coiling around her. So of it emanated from within her, so from the surrounding walls, but most ca from the black gemstone necklace she wore.
The Hightower House’s proficiency in occult studies was clearly more than re rumor. The energy surrounding Malora indicated that the family had mastered ancient, profound magical knowledge. They were capable of cultivating true magicians, far removed from the charlatans who rely claid the title.
Moreover, the woman standing before him, adorned with a veil of gemstones and wearing a black gemstone necklace, reminded Lynd of another woman with powerful witchcraft: the red priestess lisandre.
Lynd preferred to keep his distance from such figures, no matter their supernatural abilities. After the banquet began, he maintained a low profile and quietly slipped out of the hall.
What he hadn’t anticipated was Malora Hightower seeking him out in the garden and initiating a conversation. She seed to know that he could see the patterns on the High Tower.
“You can see things on the High Tower, can't you?” Malora repeated when Lynd didn’t reply imdiately.
Lynd had no intention of admitting anything. Instead, he replied blankly, “Is there sothing on the High Tower? I don’t quite understand what you an, Lady Malora.”
Malora stared at him expressionlessly, her gaze as though piercing through his helt to see the face behind it.
Without warning, she reached out to grab his helt, attempting to remove it. Lynd caught her arm and gently pushed her away.
“Lady Malora, please don’t do anything rude,” Lynd said, his voice calm but firm from behind the helt.
“Do you know what they call ?” Malora asked, rubbing her arm. She didn’t seem annoyed and instead stepped closer.
Lynd countered, “Do you know what they call ?”
Malora was montarily stunned, taken aback by his question. Before she could respond, a sudden wave of heat and an overwhelming sense of danger made her freeze.
Turning instinctively, she found herself face-to-face with a massive creature. Glory’s head lood over her shoulder, its vertical pupils staring directly into her eyes. Malora froze, stunned.
When she entered the garden earlier, Glory had been hidden in the shadows, its natural camouflage concealing its presence. Now, Malora had no idea where this enormous beast had co from.
What she could see, however, was the hunger in its eyes. The monster seed ravenous, and Malora felt it was about to make her its prey.
Just as her panic peaked and she prepared to scream, an armored hand pressed down on the creature’s head, gently but firmly pushing it aside.
The hunger in Glory’s eyes vanished instantly. Obediently, the beast moved its head away. As the armored hand withdrew, Glory even licked Lynd’s palm before pacing off into the garden.
Malora, still shaken, finally saw the creature fully and recognized it as an unusually large Shadowcat.
At that mont, she recalled snippets of conversation she had overheard earlier among Oldtown nobles and servants regarding a peculiar beast accompanying a guest.
“Who are you?” Malora asked the armored knight before her, a mixture of curiosity and fear evident in her voice. It was clear to her that he was the master of the monster she had just encountered.
Malora had spent years isolated in the High Tower, detached from the outside world, consud by her studies of the arcane knowledge housed in her family’s extensive collection. Her understanding of the world remained frozen in ti—she still believed House Targaryen ruled the Seven Kingdoms, unaware that the dynasty had fallen over a year ago. Naturally, she had no knowledge of Lynd, a rising figure whose fa had spread across Westeros in the past six months.
Initially, her plan for the evening had been simple: attend the banquet briefly, then retreat to her room to continue reading. Yet, as she observed the gathering of lavishly dressed nobles, her attention was drawn to a knight clad in full armor, including a helt that concealed his face. Unlike the others, he stood in a corner without speaking to anyone, yet his presence alone attracted the attention of many.
While others marveled at the knight’s magnificent armor, Malora’s focus was different. She noticed the hilts of the two greatswords at his waist, crafted from dragonbone, and sensed a faint magical aura emanating from them. This was only the second ti she had encountered magic outside the High Tower—the first being in a forbidden chamber of the Citadel.
Curiosity overwheld her usual habits. Rather than returning to her room, she followed Lynd’s movents, eventually arriving at the small garden. There, she found him gazing at the High Tower’s outer wall. His behavior led her to suspect that he, like her, could perceive the magic inscribed on the tower.
The thought filled her with excitent. For years, Malora had felt isolated in her unique abilities, even though her father, Lord Leyton, had supported her studies and believed she shared talents with their ancestors. This loneliness was one reason she preferred the High Tower’s seclusion to the company of others. Now, for the first ti, she believed she had found soone who shared her gifts.
Her excitent caused her to cast aside all decorum. Without hesitation, she approached him directly, seeking answers.
Now, despite her earlier shock at Glory, she refused to abandon her efforts to communicate with Lynd.
“Lady Malora, you should return to the banquet. That is where you belong,” Lynd said, his tone cold and detached. He sensed that this woman might bring trouble and sought to distance himself.
Malora t his gaze—or rather, the unseen one behind his helt—and recognized his deliberate indifference. After a mont of silence, she turned and left the garden, clearly frustrated.
Though she departed, Lynd had an unsettling feeling that their encounter was far from over. He suspected that the trouble she represented had only just begun.
To his surprise, however, Malora did not reappear after the banquet. Once it ended, Lynd was sought out by servants and inford of his accommodations.
By then, the nobles who had attended the banquet had left, and the knights who accompanied Willas had returned to their camp outside the castle. Willas, however, remained at the High Tower, as his schedule for the following days was packed. He was to et several Oldtown nobles in the morning, visit the Citadel later, and attend a prayer ceremony at the Starry Sept the day after. Staying within the High Tower saved valuable ti.
As the leader of Willas’s personal guard, Lynd was also required to stay. He was assigned a room adjacent to Willas’s on the second floor. From his window, he could see the entire city of Oldtown.
Unlike the High Tower’s exterior, the interior lacked the mysterious patterns and supernatural energy Lynd had observed outside. It seed as though all the magical power had been concentrated on the outer walls, leaving the interior tranquil—a state that suited Glory, who was noticeably calr.
“Ser Lynd, may I co in?” Willas’s voice interrupted Lynd’s preparations for rest. Lynd had just removed his armor and unsheathed one of his greatswords when the knock ca at his door.
Frowning, Lynd turned and opened the door to find Willas dressed in casual attire. “Please co in, Lord Willas,” he said, stepping aside.
Willas entered, closed the door, and casually asked, “Ser Lynd, are you settling in well here?”
“It’s better than the barracks, at least,” Lynd replied flatly.
Willas continued, “At the banquet earlier, you didn’t seem to eat. I asked—”
Lynd sighed and cut him off. “Lord Willas, you didn’t co here just to ask about my comfort or whether I’ve eaten, did you? Just tell what’s on your mind.”
Willas smiled awkwardly, took a deep breath, and said with a serious expression, “Ser Lynd, what do you think of my aunt, Malora Hightower?”
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