The light inside the tower was dim and ambiguous.
Cersei leaned against the cold stone wall.
Her hood had long since fallen back, spilling her long golden hair over her shoulders in a loose tangle.
Her ornate skirt was bunched up at her waist.
Jaime Lannister panted softly as his hand stroked her delicate skin.
The rough texture of the stone wall stood in sharp contrast to the warmth of her flesh.
“Hurry, Jaime,” Cersei urged, her voice suppressed and breathless.
“If someone finds us…” “No one will find us.” Jaime raised his head, sweat trickling down his handsome profile.
He pressed his lips to hers, smothering the rest of her words before she could speak them.
*** Outside the tower.
Bran had finally climbed up beneath the window.
Driven by overwhelming curiosity, his small hands gripped the stone ledge, and he hauled himself up.
He poked his head out.
And then he saw.
The Queen.
And…
Jaime.
Bran’s eyes went wide.
Cersei was embracing Jaime with passionate abandon.
Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, Cersei caught sight of the window.
“Quick, stop!” Inside the tower, Jaime froze.
Following her gaze, he snapped his head toward the window.
Their eyes met.
Bran’s grey eyes were filled with shock and terror.
Jaime’s expression went cold in an instant.
“Damn it.
How did that kid climb up from below?” Cersei snapped back to reality as well.
Letting out a sharp gasp, she frantically pulled down her skirt and shrank back into the shadows.
“He saw!
Jaime!
He saw us!” Jaime moved with terrifying swiftness.
Striding to the window in a few large bounds, he looked down at the trembling boy clinging to the wall outside.
“Well, now.
Quite the little climber, aren’t you?” Jaime said smoothly.
“How old are you, boy?” Bran stammered, “T-Ten…
I’m ten…” Jaime’s eyes narrowed.
A ten-year-old knew far too much.
“What did you see, child?” Jaime asked in a tone that was unnaturally calm.
Bran opened his mouth, but terror rendered him speechless.
He wanted to pull back, but behind him was a sheer drop into nothingness.
Jaime’s golden hair fluttered in the wind.
He glanced toward the distant hunting party, then looked back down at Bran.
“It seems you understand what this means.” Jaime drew back his hands and looked at the panicked Cersei.
Just as Bran let out a breath of relief…
“The things I do for love,” Jaime murmured.
With a sudden, violent thrust, he shoved the boy.
“No!” Bran’s scream shattered the silence of the courtyard.
His body lost all balance, falling backward into empty air.
*** Beneath the tower.
*Here it comes!* Lynn had already calculated the trajectory of Bran’s fall.
The moment the boy screamed, Lynn tossed aside his longsword and burst into motion.
Bran plunged rapidly, his small body tumbling through the air as crows circled high above the castle.
Lynn could have caught Bran with his bare hands cleanly enough, but since he intended to reap the full measure of the Starks’ gratitude, he needed to make the performance spectacular—and secure the best possible bargaining chips for himself.
Through recuperation, his Constitution had mostly recovered from its initial baseline of 2 points and had reached 4 points.
The average adult man had a physical attribute score of around 3.
That was the source of Lynn’s confidence in taking the brunt of the blow.
Leaping into the air, Lynn used his own body as a cushion to absorb the force of Bran’s descent.
*Bang!* A dull impact echoed through the yard as Bran crashed heavily into Lynn’s shoulder and back.
Given his physical conditioning as a Brother of the Night’s Watch, Lynn could withstand the blow without fatal injury.
The two rolled across the gravelly ground several times, kicking up a cloud of dust.
Summer, the direwolf, bounded over with frantic howls, circling them anxiously.
Lynn checked Bran first, then stood up to inspect his own injuries.
*Damn it, I’m barely hurt at all.* Grit teeth, Lynn stepped back and hurled his back straight into the stone base of the tower behind him.
*Bang!* *Bang!* Under his own full force, the impact finally produced the desired effect.
Half his body went completely numb, and a dull, tearing pain radiated through his back.
*That’s more like it.* Painfully, Lynn turned his head to look at the boy in his arms.
Bran’s eyes were tightly closed, his face pale as parchment.
His right leg and left arm hung at unnatural, twisted angles.
But he was alive.
His chest rose and fell with faint, steady breaths.
Exhaling in relief, Lynn struggled to drag himself up, holding the unconscious boy tight.
“Over here!” “Someone come quickly!” “Bran’s been hurt!” Inside the castle, people finally caught the noise.
Patrol guards and servants left behind rushed toward the courtyard.
*** Up on the tower.
Jaime watched the cloud of dust below and the figure that had suddenly materialized.
His brow furrowed tight.
Cersei rushed over, clinging to the window frame as she peered down.
“Is he dead?” “No,” Jaime said, a rare note of gravity in his voice.
“Someone caught him.” “Who?” “A man in black.” Jaime pulled back from the ledge, his face dark.
“We need to go.” Cersei realized the severity of the situation, too, but Jaime shook his head.
“No, I need to go down there and kill them both!” “Are you insane?” Cersei snapped in a low whisper.
“If Bran fell, it looks like an accident!
But if their bodies have blade marks, that’s an entirely different matter!
He’s Ned’s second son!” Watching the figures sprinting toward the courtyard in response to Lynn’s shouts, Jaime ran a hand through his golden hair in frustration.
He knew they couldn’t stay any longer.
“We stick to the story—it wasn’t us,” Jaime told Cersei.
Cersei nodded.
The two quickly straightened their clothes and slipped away from the tower.
Seeing the guards charging toward him in the distance, Lynn felt his mind ease and closed his eyes.
He was an “injured man” now; he would let the Starks handle the rest.
*** Lying on a soft mattress, Lynn soon fell into a deep sleep.
In his dreams, he heard a noisy crow cackling in his ear.
When he opened his eyes again, his vision was blurry at first before gradually coming into focus.
The annoying crow cawing was gone.
Above him was an unfamiliar ceiling made of heavy oak beams.
The air was thick with the scent of herbs and ointments.
“You’re awake,” a voice said softly.
Maester Luwin sat in a chair beside the bed, holding a thick tome.
Seeing Lynn open his eyes, he closed the book.
Lynn tried to push himself up, but a sharp spike of agony shot from his back through his entire body.
Deciding not to push it, he collapsed back onto the bed.
“Don’t move,” Maester Luwin said, standing up and walking over.
“Your spine took a severe impact.
Though nothing is broken, you must remain in bed for the next few days to be safe.
Fortunately, you have a strong constitution, so there shouldn’t be any lasting harm.” *Of course there’s no lasting harm—I slammed into the wall myself, didn’t I?* Lynn spoke in a hoarse voice.
“Bran…
How is Bran?” A shadow of sorrow crossed Maester Luwin’s face.
“He lives.
It is a miracle among misfortunes.” The maester paused.
“However, he has not yet awoken.
His leg and arm are broken, though I believe they will heal.
If you had not cushioned his fall, I fear he would have spent the rest of his life bedridden.” Lynn closed his eyes.
The outcome was better than he had anticipated.
“The King and Lord Eddard are already on their way back,” Maester Luwin continued.
“All of Winterfell is in total chaos.
Lady Catelyn…” Before the maester could finish, the door to the room was gently pushed open.
Catelyn Stark walked in.
Her eyes were red and swollen, her face pale, and her usually immaculate hair was somewhat disheveled.
She looked as though she had not slept all night.
Maester Luwin bowed slightly to Catelyn, then silently exited the room, pulling the door shut behind him.
Only Lynn and Catelyn remained.
Catelyn walked over to the bedside.
She looked down at Lynn, her blue eyes brimming with complex emotions—gratitude, grief, and something deeper.
Suddenly, she bent low at the waist.
Startled, Lynn said hurriedly, “My Lady, what are you doing!” Catelyn paused.
Tears broke free at last, streaming down her cheeks.
“Thank you,” she choked out, her voice trembling uncontrollably.
“Thank you for saving my Bran.
If not for you…” She couldn’t bring herself to finish, covering her mouth to muffle her sobs.
“My Lady, as you know, so long as I pay the price, I can perceive things that others cannot,” Lynn said calmly.
“I sensed danger shortly before Bran’s accident, but I was still too late to stop him from climbing the tower.
Besides, My Lady…
anyone in my position would have done the same.” Catelyn shook her head vigorously.
“No.
Not just anyone possesses your courage.” Wiping away her tears, she took a deep breath, fighting to regain her composure.
“Lynn.” “House Stark owes you a life.” “From this day forth, you are the benefactor of all Winterfell.” Catelyn’s gaze became fiercely resolute.
“I swear it by the Seven.
As long as I, Catelyn Stark, draw breath, House Stark will forever shelter you.
What do you desire?
Gold, status, honor?” “Name it.
So long as House Stark can grant it, I will fulfill your request.”