Two days later Lyonel went back to Lannisport.
The story was a second pass at the port books.
Bloom wrote it.
Tywin looked at the cover and flicked him out.
The white house was unlocked.
Downstairs empty.
Bread on the table.
A dish of oil.
Two clean settings.
[System]
Observation: the house is lived in.
Target resident 72 hours.
Mood steady.
No run attempted.
His mouth moved.
Sword off, on the hook by the door.
Up the stair.
The bedroom stood open.
Shay at the window chair.
Letter book on her knees.
Quill and half a bottle of ink.
The sheepskin was crooked L’s, two rows of them.
She saw him.
The quill stopped.
“You came.”
“Mm.
How many.”
“…L.”
“First letter in Lannister.
Not stupid.”
She turned the sheet.
Two tight rows.
The second cleaner than the first.
“I didn’t sit idle.”
“Didn’t say you did.”
He pulled a chair, put his boots on the rung, and leaned in over the work.
“Tomorrow the next one.
Y.”
“Y.”
“Mine.
Lyonel.”
She looked at the page.
The point hung over the empty space and did not come down.
Three seconds.
Surf outside.
Even.
Like breath.
He sat back.
“Anyone come these two days.”
“An old woman with the food.”
“And.”
“Lord Bloom.
Once.”
“What did he say.”
“That you’re the maddest madman in the Rock.”
Lyonel smiled.
“He’s right.”
She set the quill down, shut the book, and turned to him.
The fear was gone from the black eyes.
The hard shell thinner.
Something softer under it.
“Lyonel.”
“Mm.”
“Why don’t you touch me.”
He kept his hands on his knees and looked at her.
“Because I don’t want one night.”
“I want you working for me because you chose it.”
The fringe went behind an ear.
The bruise was going — purple-black down to yellow, a green ring at the edge.
“And if I choose it.”
His fingers stopped on the knee.
“You’ve known me five days.”
“Five days is enough.”
“Enough for what.”
“To know if a man is worth it.”
She stood.
Bare feet on the boards.
Stopped in front of him.
Half a head taller.
Looking down.
Candle in the black eyes.
“In the village a smith’s boy said he liked me.”
“He poured three bowls of ale in me before he put a hand on me.”
“I bent his nose.”
Lyonel looked up.
The mouth got away from him.
“Lucky boy.”
“Why.”
“A nose grows back.
You kick the other thing off, it doesn’t.”
She stared.
Then she laughed.
The whole of her jumped.
One hand found the chair back by his shoulder and held her up.
[System]
Target state.
Fear → 1 (floor).
Trust → 75/100
Advise: physical contact to lock the bond.
Execute?
He killed the pane.
To hell with your lock.
He took the hand off the chair.
Palm to her fingers.
Cold.
Ink on the tips.
“Sit.”
He patted the edge of the bed.
A second.
She sat.
He dropped off the chair and crouched.
Down there he met her eyes.
“Shay.”
“Mm.”
“Two ways.”
“One.
You take five hundred dragons and go.
Anywhere.
I don’t follow.”
“Two.
You stay.
You run every whisper in Lannisport.
What I put in your hand after that is more than five hundred.”
She looked at the dwarf on the floor.
Four feet.
Big head.
Ugly pack of features.
Green and black too bright for fifteen.
She had seen him draw.
She had seen him on a brothel floor, lifting her chin like the hand might break.
“Two.”
“Sure.”
“Sure.”
He stood.
She sat the bed and looked up.
Standing, he was still short.
The look was not. Find the original chapter at g.com.
Not at a dwarf.
At a man who had climbed a chair and come out taller.
Her arms went around his waist.
Thin.
Ribs under the linen.
She put her face on his chest.
“You won’t take me to bed.”
“I’ll take you to bed.”
“Why not.”
She looked up.
“You’re heir to the Rock.
I’m a girl you bought out of a house.
That’s the way the world runs.”
“The world can choke.”
His hand found the back of her skull and put her face back to the shirt.
“You give me every captain’s pillow talk in Lannisport.
Then we talk about beds.”
She laughed into the cloth.
“That might be soon.”
“How soon.”
“My ears work.”
Surf on the quay.
One long wash.
The candle jumped.
Her arms tightened a fraction.
He did not move.
He stood and let her use the chest.
The shoulders went from tight to loose.
The breath went from shallow to even.
Almost under.
[System]
Harem No.
1 — Shay
Bond lock complete.
Permanent bind in effect.
Faithful (Blue) sync: Shay loyalty locked 95/100.
Will not turn.
Added reward: Blue trait ×1 (issued)
He took the second card from the pocket.
It turned.
[System]
Blue trait acquired: Close Tie
With a bonded mark, each true exchange: trust +10.
Shared work: efficiency +25%.
He read it.
Looked down at the weight going slack against him.
“…Profit.”
Soft.
Shay, half gone: “What profit.”
“Nothing.
Sleep.”
The surf filled the room.
The candle died on its own.
Dark.
He was still by the bed.
One hand at the back of her head.
The other on the frame.
Night Sight made the whole chamber clean.
Three days of letter books in the corner.
Half a cup of water on the table.
A small fist of wildflowers on the sill — off the ground outside Lannisport.
Purple-white.
He gave the flowers two seconds.
Killed the pane.
His mouth moved.
Only for him.
“Five hundred dragons for a girl who won’t turn.
Blood on the right side of the book.”