Game of Thrones: King of Magic (Game of Thrones / Fate/Grand Order)

[mirzael]

Solomon. Braavos.

Positioned against one of the walls of the hall, our group split up slightly. Lina made a gesture with her hand, and the two priestesses who had come with us, seeing it, went away. At the same time, I decided to study a bit of what was going on.

The banquet was buffet style, which was quite unusual. Winterfell used a long corner table, which was typical of the current era, and had a special seating system. In it, the most important people were seated in the center, and the less important the person, the farther away they were seated.

I suppose it was because Braavos and the Free Cities had once been under Valyria's control, and the tradition of banquets had been passed down from there.

Looking around, I noticed that Lina and I had attracted everyone's attention. Some were staring openly at our duo and whispering with others, but most were just cautiously watching us with their side-eye.

For the most part, the center of their attention was me, not Lina. Her whole appearance was that of an obedient servant, ready to satisfy her master's every whim at a moment's notice. And she was the High Priestess of the Red Temple, which is common knowledge.

The guests also noticed the capes that she and the priestesses wore. And because of this, they had a certain apprehension and caution, which came down to the fact that no one approached us, as they were waiting for the others to move. They didn't know who I was, but Lina's capes and demeanor definitely told them that commoner I was not.

In all the pile of stares I received, only one stood out in particular. It belonged to an attractive woman with memorably bright green, emerald-like eyes. And in it I could clearly read only two emotions - desire and interest. And extremely strong.

I wondered what caused it. This was the first time we met, and I would definitely remember someone like her. Though, I could feel a tiny amount of magic in her body. So much so that John would have looked like a titan from the myths of ancient Greece compared to her.

On the same side where the woman was standing, Velano was walking toward us, accompanied by the familiar Matiris. And, judging by his face, he was, to some extent, pleased to see me.

- "Greetings, Mistress Lina. You are still as refined and beautiful as ever since we last met. I wish that had never changed," he began, turning to her at once and pretending we hadn't met. A good move, I suppose.

The humility on Lina's face was quickly replaced by a teasing and amused smile. She gave Velano a demonstrative look from head to toe, and then giggled.

- "For the Lord of Light's sake, the boy has grown into an attractive young man. Perhaps I should reconsider your offer, Master Velano." Lina murmured, to which he sighed tiredly and shook his head, and Matiris smiled ironically.

- "And you still like to remind me of my childhood mistakes."

- "Why mistakes? You're not the first to wish the same thing, but you're the first to say it to my face."

Inwardly, I raised an eyebrow.

How interesting. They did have a history, and as I see it, it is known to everyone. None of the guests expressed the slightest bit of surprise at the way they were interacting.

- "...Let's skip this moment," Velano muttered, then turned to me, "Velano Antarion, eldest son and deputy to the current Sea Lord. Judging by the behavior of High Priestess Lina, you are someone of importance to the Red Temple. Who are you, my lord?"

- "Solomon. Just Solomon. Pleased to meet you, Master Velano," I said and bowed respectfully, "This is my first visit to such an event. And as for your question, you're right. In anticipation of your next question, it just happened."

My answer does not give, in fact, any information. But it is enough to understand what the attendees are dealing with. They can get more precise information either covertly or from my mouth. And this disposes to start a conversation. My tone also made it clear that a dialog with me was possible. They will want to talk to me, and so will I to them. Velano had made the first move, which meant he'd given the go-ahead to someone brave enough to make contact with me.

- "I see," he nodded, "In that case, enjoy the banquet. The organizer and owner of this place still hasn't arrived. So you have time to get to know the others. Braavos is a hospitable city. As long as you obey the laws. And now, may I bid farewell, Master Solomon, Mistress Lina."

After saying goodbye, Velano stepped aside and let the others take their turn.

He articulated his words very well. Velano backed up his authority by mentioning adherence to the law. He made it clear that everyone was equal before the law, even the Red Temple. And also, Velano indirectly pointed out that I was new to this city, which, to some extent, untied the hands of those present.

After he left, there was a lull again, though not the same as before Velano. The whispers between the guests became more intense. I suppose someone will be coming to us soon enough.

And while that wasn't happening, I decided to have a little talk with Lina about the woman whose gaze intrigued me. I would see Tarmo and Velano's brother anyway, based on the information I'd gotten, so there was no point in asking about them. Bye.

- "Lina, what can you tell me about her?" I asked, without specifying about whom. However, Lina understood everything perfectly well.

- "Oh, did you notice that look too? Reminds me of a predator, doesn't it? Kirana Satrion, a large merchant who owns a street of artisans. To say she's rich is to say nothing. In fact, nothing much, except for one thing."

- "Just one thing?" I raised an eyebrow.

- "She's very interested in magic, which is common knowledge and quite acceptable. Really, not as much as it actually is. Even to us, who are generally considered fanatics, she is one herself. I recall Kirana changing several faiths, including our own."

- "How strange. Can one leave the Red Faith?"

- "Of course," Lina said in a resentful tone, pouting her lips, "We've always been in favor of believing in the Lord of Light. If the novices who have just embarked on this path realize that they do not fit our vision of the world, our actions, or the Lord of Light himself, they are free to leave. What is the point of faith if it doesn't come from the heart?"

- "That's... pretty modern," I nodded to myself, then added humorously, "I wouldn't expect that from fanatics."

- "You flatter us," Lina chuckled, "But back on topic, Kirana is quite an interesting woman. She wasn't interested in any particular kind of magic, but in its very presence. As you know, every temple like ours has a library or its equivalent, and Kirana would linger there for very long periods of time, sometimes forgetting her trading activities. Books, scrolls, manuscripts. She absorbed information from all of it. And at an alarming rate. Our temple, the Weeping Mistress' temple, the Lion of Night and so on. But nothing more than that, just studying, which I find a bit odd."

How interesting. This woman's desire for knowledge is astounding. On the other hand, perhaps she knows she has magic, albeit a small amount of it, and is trying to learn all she can. But in that case, she should have been practicing, which I understand hasn't happened. After all, that's something Lina would definitely have noticed. What was her goal?

But, it's worth returning to the conversation. Or rather, the part I'm interested in.

- "Hmm... And you don't forbid it? The library may contain texts that are not meant for the eyes of someone like the novices, or am I wrong? When I've done that in the temple, I've had a fairly small number of people catch my eye."

- "Oh, such texts are indeed present, but they are elsewhere and under the care of the High Priestess of the local temple. I brought them to you myself, didn't I?" Lina smiled, "And as for your question, we always welcome the desire to learn. Without compulsion, of course. And if someone is not literate but has the desire, we teach them. In the end, those who learn increase their value, and we use them in the areas where they will be most useful to the Lord of Light."

- "Not bad. Rational use of resources," I nodded, "And burning?"

- "Unless it's voluntary, or an unforgivable sin has been committed. But getting back to Kirana's point, once she'd learned all she could in Braavos, Kirana started buying up manuscripts like this from all over the world. It wasn't hard, since after the fall of Valyria, it was Braavos that became the largest point of contact between Westeros and Essos. Honestly, thinking back to her time in our temple, I don't even want to know how extensive her collection on magic is now."

- "Hmmm... Is that it?"

- "I seem to have forgotten something..." she mumbled thoughtfully, "Ah, yes. Twenty years ago, when she was only sixteen, Kirana gave birth to a child, and no one still knows the name or appearance of the father. But as I recall, the child was born dead. Now, as then, she was officially single. That's it now."

'Dead'? I suppose it's not uncommon in this era. The level of medicine can't promise something like this with any certainty. Medicines and sterility are still difficult for people of this time.

That said, I still don't understand why I deserve such a look. My looks alone couldn't be the only reason. There was something else.

And while I was distracted by my thoughts, without my noticing, someone approached our duo.

- "It's rather rude to discuss someone behind their backs." A melodic and falsely judgmental female voice sounded next to us.

Looking up, I was met by the same woman who was throwing a predatory glare at me. True, it wasn't present now, as if it had never existed. There was only confidence and stateliness on her face.

- "The High Priestess had probably told me everything she could about me. It's to be expected, though, given her personality," she said with humor and a polite smile before bowing in greeting, "Kirana Satrion, humble merchant of Braavos. And you, sir?"

- "Oh? But you weren't back, were you, Kirana?" Lina snidely remarked and giggled, to which Kirana outwardly did not react in any way, but it was clearly evident that she had already come to terms with the High Priestess's character.

- "Solomon. That's good enough. Pleased to meet you," I replied with the same bow, "I assume you've known Lina for some time, Mistress Kirana?"

- "You're right. My stay in the Red Temple was not long, but it was long enough for us to develop a sort of... understanding."

- "I thought we were friends..." Lina took offense.

- "I daresay the High Priestess's behavior makes you uncomfortable, Master Solomon. I can only sympathize with you and wish patience to you." ignoring Lina, Kirana said comfortingly.

- "No, not at all. Although I find her a little strange, but it's nice to dilute the ordinary with something new, don't you think, Mistress Kirana?" Lina remained silent at my words, but she gave a resentful look, crossing her arms over her chest and turning her head to the side. Both Kirana and I chose not to react in any way.

- "I suppose you're right," she nodded, "Since we're off to such a good start, I'd like to invite you in for a glass of wine. How would you like that, Master Solomon?"

Hearing that, I raised an eyebrow inwardly.

Her offer is rather... hasty, I would say. Of course, that could be put down to her merchant's streak. As if she wants to gain an advantage by making contact with me first, and in a more familiar environment to get the most information out of me.

However, she didn't ask about my position in the Red Temple, though she did mention my status. This is usually done when the information is not really needed, or when everything is already known. In this case, the first option is obvious.

In short, such an offer comes only if the invitee is absolutely sure that he will get something. That is, having met several times beforehand or having obtained information about the invitee.

And Kirana invited me without knowing anything about me. Given what Lina said about her, her status in Braavos is extremely high, and I'm an unknown, even if the High Priestess of the Red Temple is accompanying me personally. It looks strange to say the least. Then again, what does she want?

As if hearing my internal debate, Kirana responded to it.

- "Master Solomon, don't get me wrong, I'm only inviting you because I'm interested in you," she said calmly, "There are few people who can accept the High Priestess' behavior, and even fewer who she respects and occasions. And I am truly interested in what kind of person has achieved both."

Hmmm... She wasn't lying. But along with that, there was an understatement in her words.

- "In that case, I will consider your offer."

- "That's more than enough." She nodded, and as if waiting for this very moment, the door to the hall opened, and all the guests instantly fell silent.

A stately and well-groomed man of about forty appeared in the passage, dressed in luxurious, but not excessive, clothes. He had light straight hair of short length, small stubble, brown eyes, calm and confident face, medium build and light, slightly tanned, skin color. And right behind him followed another man in light armor, with tanned skin and stern facial features.

The last was a young man of about eighteen, wearing rather plain clothes compared to the others present, and at his side hung a scabbard with a short sword. But the distinguishing features were the straight black hair coupled with turquoise eyes and a partially familiar face. All of this made him look like Velano, which meant that this young man was that younger brother. And if that's the case, the man is....

- "I see Tarmo has arrived," Kirana said calmly, "I still have some business to attend to, Master Solomon. We can continue our conversation later, but for now, I will take my leave. Have a nice evening."

With that, she walked off in another group of guests, leaving me and Lina behind. I, on the other hand, turned my gaze to Tarmo and wondered.

Let's see how this goes.

-0-

A/N: How's the chapter? Give us your opinion. You may well be able to influence future chapters.
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[mirzael]

Solomon. Braavos.

Upon his arrival, Tarmo immediately walked to the back of the hall and gave a short speech of thanks, his goals, and how he was going to run his business if he won the election. All in all, nothing much except for one thing.

Money.

As it turns out, the Crown of the Seven Kingdoms has a large debt to the Iron Bank. Large enough that everyone present at this event would know about it. And it wouldn't concern Braavos as a whole, were it that a portion of the bank's profits go to the city's treasury. That's not the main reason, though.

The people of this city are wealthy and quite proud. And judging by the looks on the faces of those present, they are, to put it mildly, not happy with the current state of affairs. In fact, most, if not all, realize the debt the Crown is in no particular hurry to repay. It's as if Braavos is simply being taken advantage of, while simultaneously disrespecting its inhabitants.

Since the city was formed by slaves and refugees from Valyria, its inhabitants don't like to feel like what their ancestors were. And Tarmo, having taken over as Sea Lord, plans to address that.

No, of course, it's not about war. At least not with weapons. It's about money. He wants to raise the toll on ships leaving Westeros, and also, exclusively for the Crown, raise the lending rate.

So the Crown will be under pressure from both inside and outside. Merchants from Westeros will, frankly, complain to the Crown about the unfairness of Braavos' new policy, and the Crown itself will be far from happy about the increased debt. Besides, the Keepers of the Keys, who run the Iron Bank, are not opposed to Tarmo's idea.

Go to war with the city? You could certainly try, but the only way to get to Braavos is by sea. It would take money to cross the sea. And not just for ships, captains and crew, but for weapons, armor and provisions. What can't be said, but to lead an entire army on a, to put it mildly, well-defended city is sheer folly.

The arsenal, which is just beyond the Titan of Braavos, can perfectly hold off the onslaught from the sea, as there is only one way through it. Leading troops around it is ridiculous because of the huge expense, exceeding the sea option several times over.

Braavos, on the other hand, can afford to be aggressive. Covertly, of course. Sending assassins is nothing compared to shipping an entire army. All they need to do is eliminate the commanders and the ruling circle.

It won't come to that, though. One side and the other knows about all this. Perhaps no one gains anything from it, but not really. Braavos will be reminded that he is to be reckoned with and respected, and that's what matters.

After his speech, Tarmo, his bodyguard and Velano's younger brother moved from one group of guests to the next, greeting each one personally and exchanging a few words with them. After a while, it was our turn as well. He first studied my appearance quickly, and only then did he begin to speak.

- "Greetings, Mistress Lina, it's nice to know that you are in good health," he started politely but confidently with Lina, who in response made a slight bow, and then turned to me, "We do not know each other, Master Solomon, but I have heard some good words about you from our mutual acquaintance and some from rumors. Tarmo Fregar, an experienced cloth and silk merchant. Behind me are Zehir Sand, my bodyguard, and Oris Antarion, my assistant. Will you satisfy my curiosity by telling me what position you hold? Judging by the High Priestess' clothing and demeanor, far from one that can be ignored."

Sand? Isn't that the surname given to bastards in Dorne? Quite expected, since he came from Sunspear.

Oris Antarion... Well, now I know Brother Velano's name. He looks really uninterested in everything going on around him. And that's pretty weird, since he's supporting Tarmo in his cause. Exactly as strange as the complete lack of magic in his body and mind. Apparently Velano was a bit mistaken, and his little brother has another reason to follow Tarmo.

- "I can be called the closest person to the Lord of Light," I replied with a polite smile, "That's why Lina respects and listens to me so much."

At my words, Tarmo raised an eyebrow.

- "Like Azor Ahai?"

- "You could say it like that."

- "I see, thank you for your answer," he nodded, not continuing the questioning, "How was the banquet?"

- "Impressive. Quite luxurious, but refined. And may I ask you a question of my own?"

- "Please."

- "Isn't the current Sea Lord named Antarion? Is that a relative of his? Another son, perhaps?" I asked, to which Tarmo didn't react much. Nor did Oris, for that matter.

- "You are right. Oris is his youngest son. And I take it you have already met Master Velano?"

- "Yes."

- "I see," he nodded, "If you have no further questions, I'll take my leave. I have to greet the others. Enjoy the banquet, the food was prepared by the best chef in all of Braavos. There's a performance at the end that will make it worth staying until the end. Don't miss it."

- "I will. Thank you."

At those words, he bowed his head slightly and headed off to the next group.

So far, everything fit Velano and Lina's words. But to add to his description is the fact that he is quite a businesslike person. No unnecessary words, just what etiquette and the situation demanded. Not that you'd expect anything else, given his goals.

- "What do you think of him, "my king"?" Lina asked in a teasing tone.

- "A rather ordinary, busy man who prefers not to waste his time. Possesses tolerable charisma and doesn't like to share too much information. Everything fits the description, to make a long story short."

- "And Oris?"

- "Velano was wrong," I answered briefly, then headed to one of the tables to grab something to munch on, "Since Tarmo said something about a worthwhile performance, I think we can have a nice time for now. And maybe try to strike up a conversation with Oris himself in the process. Since there's no magic involved, it could be something mundane. The conversation will make that clear, I suppose."

- "In that case, there's no point in refusing," Lina nodded and took two glasses of wine from the servant, one of which she handed to me. "I propose we drink to the Lord of Light. And to the High Priestess Kinvara, to whom you are so exorbitantly dear, "my king"."

- "Just don't tell Kinvara yourself. I don't think he'll be happy to hear about it."

- "I'm sure he would." Lina giggled.

I took a small sip and looked at the contents of the glass.

Pretty good.

-0-

A while later.

The time spent was comfortable, relaxed and pleasant. Some of the guests did decide to approach me and get to know me, sometimes asking general questions. Conversations with them were easy and relaxed, which was quite pleasant. There was even one Master and a couple of Keepers of the Keys among them.

The evening flowed smoothly into night, with the moon shining brightly in the sky and the cool sea breeze entering the hall through the open windows. The tables were regularly replenished with new dishes and glasses with various drinks. I think there was even something like cognac for those who liked something stronger.

I had a few words with Velano, telling him of my findings. He was genuinely surprised to hear them, but accepted nonetheless and offered his theories under the guise of small talk.

Tarmo, along with his group, left the hall from time to time to settle some business. He was not present in the hall now, saying that he had to finish the last preparations.

At the moment I was seated in one of the chairs along the walls, waiting for the very performance that Tarmo had promised. My ear caught a few guesses, but they were all about the same - a musical or dance performance by a small troupe, as much as the space in the hall allowed.

Lina managed to chat with a few of the guests, mostly either annoying or teasing them. But it was abundantly clear that they were all used to her by now. Or at least partially. I even managed to get a few sympathetic looks from them, which Lina found amusing, of course.

At one point, the doors opened, revealing Tarmo. He looked around at everyone present and cleared his throat loudly, getting their attention.

- "Gentlemen, I would like to thank you again for your support, as well as your patience. I suppose you were wondering what proposal I was talking about, but let your eyes see for themselves, for it is better to see once than to hear a hundred times, right?" He said loudly, and stepped aside.

And when Tarmo did so, the guests blinked in surprise to see what was behind him. Or rather, who.

There, standing in the aisle, was a young girl dressed in a yellow and white dress. Her long blonde hair waterfalled down her back and developed softly in the breeze. Gifted body, which was visible even under the dress, attracted the attention of men and excited their fantasies. From the sleeves of the dress showed exquisite hands, which was suitable for some devotee of art.

But what I found fascinating was the girl's face. The lower part of her face was hidden behind a thin white silk veil, revealing only her eyes. Bright emerald eyes, like a black hole, drew the attention of all who looked into them. It was as if they had a hypnotic power, which the girl's clothing only served to enhance. It was her eyes that stood out clearly in the range of colors and shades she wore, and they were the first to be remembered.

- "Pearl Artist..." I heard one of the men mutter.

- "How beautiful are her eyes..." some woman added.

- "Master Tarmo has outdone himself."

- "Magnificent."

So this is the Pearl Artist? The owner of the tavern where I spoke to Velano? Impressive. And I'm not talking about her looks, I'm talking about what I felt inside her.

Magic.

And it wasn't just her presence and amount of mana that was impressive, which could be considered outstanding for this era, but the level of control she had over them.

I'm sure that in this world, no one but me or Jon would be able to detect the presence of magic in this girl. The mana that flowed through her body was as calm as water and as natural as air, as if the Artist were one with her.

Now it was clear why the paintings in the tavern smelled so clearly of magic. Their creator is truly skilled in both creating and being a mage. Truly impressive.

- "My vision is that we will be able to see firsthand the work of one of the finest artists in the entire world. And today, the Mistress Artist will paint a portrait of one of her guests, whom she will choose herself, and then present the finished work to him."

Hearing Tarmo's words, a commotion arose in the hall. Almost everyone in the room wanted to be the one chosen by the newcomer. This was clearly visible on their faces as the artist walked to a vacant part of the hall. She was followed by her three maids who carried her supplies: a high chair, an easel, brushes, a board, paints and a canvas.

While her maids were arranging the place of work, the Artist herself looked around at everyone present, not lingering on any of them for more than a moment. Her eyes were indifferent, and even through the veil the stoic expression of the girl was clearly visible.

And all would be nothing, but there was one exception. For one tiny micro-moment her gaze lingered on me. And the most fascinating thing for me was that I recognized that gaze. It was the one I had sensed from the top floor of the bakery I had visited on my way to the Red Temple. It was only now that my sense of smell caught the faint, but still present, slight odor of bread and oven.

When everything was set up, which happened rather quickly, thanks to the practiced and precise actions of the maids, she stood in front of her workplace and looked into the hall. At that moment there was an absolute silence in which one could hear the pounding of her own heart.

The artist gazed at the guests one by one, paying no attention to her surroundings. The maids stood silently behind a chair, and Tarmo stood in one corner of the hall, waiting for the creator to begin her work.

Finally, her gaze stopped and her hand rose and pointed at one particular guest... Me.

- "You. Please stand in front of the canvas. You will pose for today's painting." came the indifferent and melodious voice of the Artist.

Of course, disgruntled looks were immediately directed in my direction. Some even managed to whisper a few curses at me. Lina found it hilarious and giggled loud enough to be heard by the whole room. And, of course, it didn't really bother her. I sighed tiredly and complied with the girl's request.

All the way to the place the eyes of the guests did not open from my figure. In the back of my head I could clearly feel the resentment and envy of those present.

- "Shall I assume some sort of pose, Mistress. Artist?" Reaching the seat, I asked.

- "There is no need. Just stand there and look at me. That's more than enough." She waved me away and sat down on the high chair that her maids had brought with them.

I sighed tiredly once more and did as I was asked.

An interesting and informative evening, but tiring and strange at the same time. Mostly thanks to the girl who arrived at the very end of the event.

I suppose you could call coming here productive, couldn't you?

-0-

A/N: How's the chapter? Give us your opinion. You may well be able to influence future chapters.
My P.a.t.r.e.o.n: P.a.t.r.e.o.n.c.o.m/mirzael
You'll be able to read more chapters there.

 

[mirzael]

Sansa Stark. The Kingsroad.

It's been a little over a week since we left Winterfell. There hasn't been much change in that time. I spent most of the journey with my father and Arya, playing with Fou and occasionally exchanging words with Prince Joffrey when he caught my eye.

Arya snuggled with Lady and Nymeria, refusing to let them go, while I strolled around the outskirts of the camp that had just gone to sleep, save for the sentries on watch. There was no point in worrying about safety, as I was sure Lord Solomon's gift could protect me. And Fou, who was getting his share of affection while in my arms, only further convinced me of that. I don't know why, but it seemed to me that there was some great mystery lurking behind that sweet, furry animal, given the occasional glances he received from Lady Kinvara.

Father was mostly busy with business, talking to the king or reading documents. Arya, Princess Myrcella, and Prince Tomen acted as one group, occasionally playing some poor fellow or chatting about something just between the two of them. Prince Joffrey only walked around and did nothing else, all the while keeping a haughty and annoying smirk on his face, which I've somehow learned to ignore, accompanied by his bodyguard Ser Clegane.

Lord Tyrion and Lord Jaime didn't seem particularly eager to do anything. However, while the latter could be described as a typical "Lannister" and coming from a lord's family, the former, in a way, appealed to me.

It's no secret that Tywin Lannister is not particularly fond of his youngest son and will only make him his heir if there is no one else left. Lord Tyrion understands this perfectly well and even manages to make jokes about it, which I've heard during the tributes. He also realizes his inability to hold a sword, and so has focused all his energies on knowledge.

Also, he knows his worth, no matter how small. No one would want to directly throw a challenge at Tywin Lannister, which means they won't touch him. At least as long as the family has power. All of this is flavored by his way of speaking, brash and ironic, which makes it nice to just talk to him about anything. At least for me, as I would definitely prefer his company over that of a queen or crown prince.

At one point, Fou raised his head abruptly and pointed it in a certain direction. Following his gaze, I saw Lord Tyrion drinking alone, sitting on a log and holding a book in his hand.

If the opportunity presented itself, why not take it? I wanted to get at least some up-to-date information about the Red Castle.

I made my way to the log and sat down a few feet away from Lord Tyrion. When he noticed me, he raised an eyebrow and took a sip from the bottle. There was silence between us for a few moments, until a tired sigh came out of his mouth.

- "Even if this is the king's camp and only a madman would dare attack it, it is not safe for a girl like you to wander all alone, you know, Lady Sansa."

- "But I am not alone, Lord Tyrion," I said with a smile and lifted Fou, showing him to Lord Tyrion, "He will protect me."

- "Fou!" Fou chirped, raising his paw up, which made Lord Tyrion chuckle, and I chuckled.

- "Well, if you think so, there's no problem," he took another sip and put the book aside, "What can this humble imp do for you, my lady? You came here for a reason, didn't you?"

- "Are you not getting drunk, Lord Tyrion? I doubt this is your first bottle."

- "It's my sixth. What else is a smart, rich lord's son to do but not drink? But you haven't answered the question," he said, and when I was about to answer, he continued, "If you're wondering what awaits you at the Red Keep, don't even try. Those are questions for my sister. She knows how things work."

- "What makes you think that's what I'm here for?" I asked with a smile on my face.

- "You're not as subtle as you think," Lord Tyrion shrugged, "Your actions at court, your keeping company with my not-so-nice nephew, and your gaze speak volumes. Cersei is fond of her child, and that's why she can be blind. Your actions, while not bad, are not exactly discreet. Also, I don't want to step on anyone's toes. Especially not my sister's, just so you know."

He's perceptive. It's pretty hard to mine information when your opponent is someone like him.

Plus, the look on his face makes it look like he doesn't care. I don't think if it were anyone else in my shoes, it would change. It's pretty weird, even considering his situation. It's like he doesn't care about his family. Then again, maybe his family does too. It's worth adding the fact that he also doesn't want to get involved in anyone else's business. They just don't make sense to him.

- "I'll keep that in mind, Lord Tyrion," I nodded, "Aren't you concerned about my actions? I could be planning something against your family."

- "You? I don't think so," he grinned, "You're not interested in power or money, and there's nothing to avenge the Starks for. Rather, you care about your family's safety in the capital. That is the obvious conclusion from your actions. If it weren't, you'd be coming to my sister, not me, you devil. Besides, the Lannisters have enough enemies already. You won't be the first, and I don't think you'll be the last."

- "Is there someone in particular you're referring to, My Lord?"

- "Who knows?" Lord Tyrion dismissed it and took another sip or two.

There was silence between us again, broken only by the breeze, the howling of wolves in the distance, and Fou's purring. My gaze turned to the endless starry sky as my mind fantasized about meeting Lord Solomon.

I wondered if he would already be there when we arrived at King's Landing, or would we have to wait? There was so much I wanted to tell him and hear what he had to say. I wanted to tell him how Jon left and where he was going, how my mother had changed, how Robb and the others had become. But most of all, I wanted to show what I had become.

Thinking about the past me makes me uncomfortable. If I were here, what would I do? Most likely, I wouldn't have even approached the little lord, but would have gone to bed, dreaming of a prince who was nothing but a spoiled and stupid child.

I smiled cheerfully, remembering what Arya had called him, refusing to call him anything else. "The rooster prince, huh? Quite a fitting nickname when you think about it. Really, I'd change it to "Prince Chicken" for obvious reasons.

- "Lady Sansa," Lord Tyrion called to me suddenly, looking at the nearly empty bottle, "How would you like to ponder a very interesting question I read in a book?"

- "What question?" I asked, as I didn't feel like sleeping yet. Fou was already sniffling against my chest, his head buried in it.

- "What's more important, intentions or deeds?"

I tilted my head to the side at the question and thought.

- "I would say intentions."

- "Oh? And why is that?" Lord Tyrion looked at me with interest.

- "You've heard of the Wizard who lived in Winterfell, haven't you? At first I didn't understand Ma... Lady Stark's outrage at his peculiar life lessons. But now, looking at Arya, it finally dawned on me. He took my childhood from me and shattered my girlhood dreams. He made me and my brothers grow up early. "

I lowered my gaze to Fou and ran my hand softly over his fluffy fur.

- "But I don't blame him, and I'm even grateful to him. After all, his intentions were purely good. Somehow he knew what I and the Stark family were going through, and so he decided to prepare us," I smiled and looked at Lord Tyrion. "How would you look at a typical little girl in a girl's body, dreaming of a prince, pretty dresses, and a happy, carefree life?"

- "As an idiot. The world is not as kind and beautiful as it seems." Lord Tyrion grinned.

- "You are right. And that's what Lord Solomon and Lady Kinvara have been saying," I grinned, "How did my attempt to elicit information turn into a discussion of my childhood?"

- "I have no idea, but I can tell you that I had nothing to do with it," he laughed and finished the bottle, and I chuckled softly, "I don't know about you, but I'm going back to my place. I'm out of wine, and without it I have a habit of brooding over my "demon" status. Good night, Lady Sansa."

- "You too, Lord Tyrion." I said the last of my words as I stared at his staggering figure, and a few seconds later, a lazy, short yawn escaped my mouth.

Well, I guess I should get some sleep, too. It's a long way to King's Landing, and I might be able to find out something. If not from Lord Tyrion, then from someone else. At least I hope so.

-0-

Shiro Kotomine. The Plains.

Khalasar reached the ruined city of Goian Dro and organized a pause to resupply, hunt, and refresh. The city itself had formerly belonged to the Roinar, a people who took their name from the Roina River that runs alongside the city and originates in the Velvet Hills.

The local scenery was no longer as desolate as it had been near Pentos. Blooming greenery is common in these areas, as the river runs alongside and the mountains are close by. A great place to stock up on provisions. For the most part, though, fish and meat were dried and left in the sun to maximize shelf life and to be able to eat on the go.

Near the camp, in the blazing sun, I watched one of the Khal's retainers, Kohollo, holding an arakh, a Dothraki sword with similarities to the Egyptian hopeshot. It had a crescent-shaped blade, giving the blade a high penetrating power if struck with the tip.

Seeing one of my skirmishes with the not-so-restrained Dothraki who wanted Seven's attention, Kohollo wanted to test my skills. The Servant's power hadn't been used in quite some time, so without much thought, I agreed to his offer as I might have gotten a little rusty.

Since we had moved a bit away from the set up camp, there was no one around. The princess was spending time with Fina, listening to her lectures on night matters, while Semi was mostly relaxing, occasionally joining them, and Khal was busy training.

Even despite the hardships Deni goes through, her childlike nature is still with her. She likes to visit Semi and me in our tent and complain, sometimes during lessons, the number of which had to be reduced.

From time to time she was accompanied by Jorah Mormont, who only watched silently and marveled at the knowledge that Semi and I were giving. I remember him asking us where we were able to get it, for some disciplines even he had never heard of. Of course, Ser Jorah got a vague answer, but it was enough to make him stop asking questions.

Anyway, time to get back to the fight.

Cohollo was a stocky, bald and crooked-nosed man in his thirties who had lost his teeth in one of the skirmishes. Despite his ambiguous appearance, he had a calm and poised nature that the princess liked better than any of the other blood riders-his, Haggo's, and Qotho's, the Khal's retainers.

After assessing the balance of the blade, its weight and shape, I looked at the patiently waiting Kohollo and nodded to him. Nodding back at me, he got into a fighting stance and prepared to attack.

A couple seconds later, he ran at me, swinging his blade wide and aiming for my torso. I took a step to the side and drew my sword so that the momentum of the blow would pass me by.

There was a clang of steel, and his blade slid through mine and into the void, but Kohollo didn't hesitate and quickly turned around to make another strike, which I blocked with my legs firmly spread. With some strength in my arm, I pushed him away from me, making him lose his balance for a moment, then sharply shortened the distance with him and hit him on the stomach with my fist, causing him to fall to the ground and grunt in pain.

- "You're strong and fast as a demon, Shiro. I can't tell from your body." Kohollo said impressed.

- "Thank you for the compliment," I smiled and extended my hand to him, which he calmly accepted. "It's very useful in battle, because a warrior tends to judge his opponent by his appearance, isn't it?"

- "Your words are true," he nodded, and then he hung his sword on his belt, while I handed him mine, "Thank you for the fight."

- "Of course, feel free to contact me anytime." I said, and he made a short gesture with his head and headed toward the camp.

After standing a bit and waiting until there was no one around but me, I turned my head in the direction where there were only mountains and plains.

- "Is something wrong, Semi?" I asked into the void. A couple of moments later, where my gaze was directed, Semi materialized with a frown on her face.

- "Keep an eye on Mormont. He's suspicious."

- "Hmm?" I raised an eyebrow, "Sure, whatever you say. But why me?"

- "I'm lazy," Semi answered as a matter of course, "This journey is wearing me out, and I want my gardens, Shiro. Let the ring bearer give me mana or I'll go mad."

- "I'll ask him for it, just be patient, Semi," I smiled and held out my hand, in which she put hers without a moment's hesitation, "I'll fix you something. You like my cooking, don't you?"

She didn't answer, only nodded briefly with an indifferent expression, but I noticed a tiny blush on her cheeks, which made me smile cheerfully.

The queen's wish is law, eh?

-0-

A/N: How's the chapter? Give us your opinion. You may well be able to influence future chapters.
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[mirzael]

Jon Snow. Near the Wall.

Our advance to the North was going very smoothly. We were walking fast, as the number of men in the group and the lack of supplies allowed it to be. From time to time we came across patrols of the Night's Watch and houses subject to the Starks, which we safely bypassed, remaining undetected.

We reached the Twilight Tower, one of the castles of the Night's Watch. It stood at the foot of the mountains, with the Wall at its end. The snow-covered Twilight Tower was relatively small, with a tall tower and flags on the roof, and lights in its windows to show that it was still active and on duty. The entrance was on the side with a low staircase leading up to it and guarded by a low gate.

Cid stopped our group in the woods almost adjacent to the Tower and, hiding behind the trees, ordered us to wait.

- "We need to go near the castle," Mara said, not turning her head and somehow noticing my lack of understanding, but obviously addressing me, "There's a hidden path right behind it that bypasses the patrols and goes straight to the Bridge of Skulls, as you call it."

- "I see," I nodded, "But why are we waiting? I don't see anyone."

In response, Cid silently pointed with his head a little east of the Twilight Tower. Nothing changed for a few seconds, the same snow-covered landscape, but then the lights of torches appeared in the distance.

After waiting a moment longer, I saw a group of three brothers of the Night's Watch, apparently making their rounds. They were exchanging a few words with each other, laughing or pausing from time to time, but doing their duty, though without much sensitivity or focus.

- "How did you know that they would come out of there and now?" I whispered to Cid.

- "The order and route of the patrols change every two months," Mara answered for him, 'It's useful to be 'silly savages', you know. You worshipers are, to put it mildly, blind and stupid."

Well, she's partly right. Everyone in the Seven Kingdoms is used to seeing and portraying wildlings the way Mara described. No one but the Night's Watch, I suppose, has thought about how wildlings cross the fabled Wall.

On the other hand, even if the Night's Watch raises the issue, there's nothing they can do about it. Remembering what Lord Stark has said about its current state, this is not surprising.

The current roster is for the most part made up of political criminals, deserters, murderers, rapists, and other such rabble. Only a small fraction of men join the Night's Watch for the noble purpose for which it was formed.

In addition to this problem, there is another, at least there was. It takes money to supply the brothers of the Night's Watch with weapons, armor, and food. Robb, who once substituted for my father and at that time knew of my intentions, told me and the rest of the siblings that the amount of money allocated by the Crown for the needs of the Night's Watch is extremely small. And the Starks, as the ruling house of the North, are taking on the task.

Well, in any case, none of this makes Mara's words any less right.

- "Well, that's just the way it is," I shrugged. "I guess we wait for them to pass and then we move out?"

- "Yes." Cid said, and then he stopped talking.

A couple minutes of silence passed while the patrol disappeared into the Twilight Tower. We came out from behind the trees and followed Cid. Just as he had said, we passed dangerously close to the castle walls, about two hundred paces away.

From this position, I revised my opinion on the size of the castle. It now seemed tall and massive, and the night sky made it look intimidating and mesmerizing.

Quickly and cautiously our group passed the Tower, until at one point Cid stopped abruptly. His eyes studied his surroundings as if searching for something, and Mara and I didn't know what was wrong, but we reached for our weapons just in case. After a few seconds, Cid drew his bow and, turning sharply, aimed into the darkness just behind us. Mara and I did the same and prepared for a possible attack. However...

Ten men dressed in leather, bronze, and steel armor, judging by their colors, and black cloaks emerged from the darkness-covered forest thicket. The same ones worn by the brothers of the Night's Watch.

Standing slightly ahead of the entire group was an old man. He had a long gray beard, his head was nearly hairless, and his face was covered with deep wrinkles. His clear gray-blue eyes almost shone in the light of the night moon. In addition to the usual Night's Watch garb, his collar and sleeves of his black velvet doublet were trimmed with sable, and a silver eagle held the folds of his cloak together.

It was a good thing I had prepared myself before the journey. If my memory serves me correctly, his appearance and the symbol of the eagle corresponded to what the commander of the Twilight Tower looked like. I believe his name was Denis Mallister, a member of House Mallister in the Riverlands. And their crest was a silver eagle on a purple field.

- "Calm down, wildlings," the old man began, looking at our group, Cid and Mara to be exact, "If you hand over the young man, you can leave in peace. I don't want to spill blood if it's not necessary."

- "Oh? 'What a generous offer," Mara said in her usual tone, "But I'll surprise you, old man, he's not a hostage."

- "Not a hostage?" Ser Denys raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean, wildling?"

- "Not "wildling," but "free-" Mara wanted to object, but got a sharp look from Cid and was silent.

- "It's just as she said," Cid said after a few seconds, his eyes shifting from one Night's Watch brother to the other as he held up his bow, "Ask him yourself."

Ten pairs of eyes were instantly directed at me, as if demanding an answer. Cid and Mara didn't move, but their gaze was running around, looking for ways to get around in case of emergency, while Ser Denys looked at me calmly and waited for an answer.

The rest of the brothers behaved differently than their commander. I could sense their tension and anxiety as none of them bared their swords, most likely on Ser Denis' orders. If a skirmish suddenly broke out, two of them would definitely get wounded, which wasn't a very pleasant prospect.

I took a deep breath and returned Durandal back to its scabbard, then stepped forward with my hands raised.

- "Greetings, Ser Denys of House Mallister. I am Jon Snow, bastard of Eddard Stark, the Silent Wolf and ruler of the North. And the girl told the truth, I'm traveling with them willingly, as our paths are currently aligned." Deciding that the truth would be preferable to a lie, I said.

- "Lord Stark's bastard?" Ser Denys said, surprised. "In that case, would it be a problem if I sent a raven to Winterfell to confirm your words, young man?"

Inwardly, I raised an eyebrow.

He ignored my last words? That's rather odd. If I were him, I would have immediately inquired about the 'ways' that coincide with Lord North's bastard and the wildlings. He also didn't ask why our path led us here and not to Castle Black.

But I give him credit, he didn't take my word for it, but he didn't brand me a liar on the spot. Besides, the entire conversation, there was nothing but patience and calmness on Ser Denis' face.

- "Of course. If that convinces you, I don't see a problem," I nodded, and Mara and Cid slowly lowered their bows, though they didn't put them away completely, "It takes about a day for a raven to travel from Twilight Tower to Winterfell. And since that's the case, how are we going to deal with my group? At the very least we'll have to wait a couple days, maybe more if something unforeseen happens."

- "Your group can stay overnight at the Twilight Tower. I will make the arrangements." Ser Denys replied.

- "We wouldn't want to be inconvenienced," I shook my head almost immediately, "We're both well aware of the way wildlings are treated in the Seven Kingdoms. I doubt the brothers of the Night's Watch would see it any differently."

- "Hmm..." he mumbled thoughtfully, and after a few moments of thought, he continued, "There's a cave in the rock near the castle. Earlier it was used as a kind of cache with supplies, but now it is empty. You can camp there, and I'll provide you with food and water."

- "And you're gonna leave us unattended? Is idiocy in the worshippers' blood?" Mara intervened in the conversation, to which she immediately received a silent reprimand from Cid.

- "No, I can't allow that," Ser Denys shook his head, "You'll have a couple of sentries assigned to you. No more, no less. Is that acceptable, young man?"

- "Yes, but I would like to be present when the letter is written and sent. These are uncertain times, and you never know who you can trust and who you can't."

- "Then we have a deal?" He said, and came over to shake my hand.

- "We have a deal," I nodded, and then asked the question I wanted to know. "May I ask how you found us? There was no one in the neighborhood."

Ser Denis grinned and, sticking two fingers in his mouth, whistled loudly. A moment later there was a screech in the sky, the sound of flapping wings, and a large, handsome eagle landed on his shoulder, looking at me with arrogance and confidence.

- "This is Neal," Ser Denis introduced him and scratched his wing affectionately, "He noticed you on the approach to the forest, and only thanks to him we found out about you."

- I" see. Thank you for answering, Ser Denys."

- "Don't mention it. Neal is a very proud eagle and needs to be praised from time to time," he smiled, "Anyway, Quoren!"

A grim man with shrewd gray eyes, long legs and hands, one of which was missing three fingers, came out to answer his call. His long gray hair was braided and his stiff, flat cheeks were smoothly shaven.

- "He will lead your companions to the cave while the letter is being written."

- "Quoren Halfhand?" Mara was surprised, and Cid was silent, but it was clear from his face that he knew the man.

- "Is he known beyond the Wall?" I asked.

- "Uh-huh. You could say he's a highly respected crow. It's not like any of them could fool a couple of chiefs."

- "I see," I nodded and turned to Ser Denys, "In that case, I suggest we go. I don't want to inconvenience you any more than I have to."

- "Of course, please follow me."

A man named Quoren and a couple other Night's Watch brothers, along with Cid and Mara, headed north, while I and the others followed Ser Denys to the Twilight Tower.

Well, it's too bad we didn't manage to get through unnoticed, but it could have been worse, couldn't it?

-0-

Solomon. Braavos.

As I sat in the parlor room of the Red Temple, I thought back to the banquet and looked at the picture painted and presented by the Artist.

Throughout the painting, my gaze mainly focused on the Artist's body and her instrument. As stated earlier, the mana in her awakened magical circuits flowed so easily and smoothly, as if the girl was born to magic.

The mana centered on her hand and then flowed into her fingers, in which the Artist held a special brush. An all-white artistic brush, as if made from the bone of some beast. In addition to that, it had wavy patterns and some symbols on it that I couldn't recognize.

In any case, this brush was a full-fledged Mystic Code. Through it, the mana and colors were transferred to the canvas, and the finished painting clearly radiated magic, just like the paintings in the tavern belonging to the Artist.

It's also worth mentioning that I felt someone's particularly jealous gaze. It was strong enough to override the other emotions the guests were feeling. Unfortunately, I didn't identify who it belonged to, but it was definitely there.

Suddenly, the door to the room opened. It was Lina with her typical cheerful smile that she was holding a sealed letter in her hand.

- "Oh? Am I interrupting you, "my king"?" She asked, sitting down opposite me, "Admiring your beauty or the work of the famous Artist?"

- "More of the latter than the former," I answered and looked at the letter, which was not signed in any way. "I take it is addressed to me?"

- "Most likely," Lina shrugged, "And you won't believe how I received it."

- "Hmm?"

- "I was on my way to the market to try that bread you praise. A vendor who matched your description, in addition to the bread itself, discreetly handed over this letter. Without, of course, saying anything about who it was addressed to. After a little thought, I assumed it was for you. And if it isn't, I don't think it would do me any harm."

I nodded briefly and took the letter. Unfolding it, there was only one word inside - "Pearl Coast". If I'm not mistaken, that was the name of the tavern where Velano and I had our first conversation. What also caught my eye was that the ink was soaked in mana. A very familiar mana, definitely belonging to the same girl.

- "Lina, do you need me tonight?"

- "Oh? Is that a suggestion, "my king"?" Lina giggled, "I don't mind, but how will the High Priestess Kinvara react to it? What a heartbreaker you are."

- "As I understand, I don't need it." I sighed tiredly and put the letter in my pocket.

Well, if she's decided to contact me herself, I suppose the meeting could get a little interesting, eh?

-0-

A/N: How's the chapter? Give us your opinion. You may well be able to influence future chapters.
My P.a.t.r.e.o.n: P.a.t.r.e.o.n.c.o.m/mirzael
You'll be able to read more chapters there.

 

[mirzael]

Solomon. Braavos.

As the sun set over the horizon and the stars and moon began to light up the firmament, I set out for the Pearl Coast. The activity of the city had fallen somewhat as the working part of it rested, and the streets were mostly filled with only those who could afford it. The taverns and inns, however, were filled almost completely, given the lights burning in them and the multitude of voices.

And as I walked slowly through the alleys of the city, a debate was going on in my head. It mostly centered around Shiro's request, and more specifically, Semiramis'.

Right now, the amount of mana the Servants receive is just enough to allow them to use their minimal abilities. Noble Phantasms are powerful, especially for the current era of this world. And while in Shiro's case it is ineffective against ordinary humans and not particularly noticeable, this is not the case for Semiramis at all.

Her Noble Phantasm, the Hanging Gardens of Semiramis, is a Huge Flying Fortress that Semiramis can use as both a base and a weapon of mass destruction. To the inhabitants of this world, such a structure is, to put it mildly, out of reach, unless you count dragons. And the power it carries will make every lord and commoner who learns of it or sees it obey.

Plus, there's enough space in the Gardens to house the population of a small town, and that's if you don't count the tower-like palace that sits in the center of the fortress.

Right now, the world is fairly peaceful. It is developing, albeit slowly, and the priorities of its inhabitants are prioritized around money, influence, and families. They know that with enough quantity and quality of these factors there is nothing to fear, but what if a floating impregnable fortress appears in the sky? Priorities are augmented by a new entrant - magic, of which the Gardens are an obvious manifestation.

Infrastructure and the order of things will change. Who was nothing will be able to become everything, and vice versa. Kingdoms and cities will face unrest and even civil warfare, as someone will definitely feel that he is better than others and therefore worthy of more.

It's also worth mentioning that the Age of Gods is almost over and I didn't feel any fairies or spirits, at least not yet. Soon the Age of Man will come, and the Gardens will stall progress and breathe life into the passing Age. All in all, the emergence of the Gardens will bring great excitement to the fate of this world, which I would like to avoid for now. However, if the situation calls for it, the Gardens will have to see the light of day, which is what I told Shiro.

And then there is the matter of the White Walkers. According to legend, Azor Ahai should deal with them, but now that I'm in this world, things are getting more complicated. Just like Kinvara said, I'm the one who has become the main figure on the field, and it's hard to argue with that.

Solomon's Noble Phantasm, the very first of the three available, is not just powerful, but almost omnipotent. When activated, it gathers magic from the entire planet that humanity has possessed, and it can be channeled into very different things, from obvious destruction that can drill the planet through, to something on a larger scale - the destruction of human history, as it was in Solomon's memories. Magic is a circumvention of the rules of the world, which means that there are still a carload of uses for this Noble Phantasm.

My attitude towards its use or this world... I don't know. I just don't have any big thoughts. Right now I just want to let this world prepare for change, and explore it a bit. I don't see myself in the future, as I just have no idea what I'm going to do or who I'm going to spend my time with.

I used to really think that immortality was a wonderful thing, as I would have time to learn everything the world has to offer, but now my opinion has changed. The Starks, Halon and the others I've befriended are mortals, which means they'll grow old and pass away, and I'll meet their descendants - grandchildren, great-grandchildren and so on.

Semiramis and Shiro will either want to return to the Throne or create their own family, where I have no place. They will have their own lives, and I will have mine. I will only be an inconvenience. And they will also leave, if they are fully resurrected and the situation will be the same as with the first ones.

Of course, I can think of the Red Men, especially Kinvara, who will no doubt be willing to follow me, and they live as long as their bodies are supported by R'Glor's magic, but he will be gone, and so will they.

And in the end, I don't know what to give myself to. I just don't. I don't want to feel the pain of loss, much less get used to it, but at the same time I don't want to lose my humanity. And I will lose it, since I'll either become an emotionless piece of flesh if I close my heart, or devastated if I don't.

I grinned ironically.

A vicious circle, huh?

So the time passed unnoticed, and I almost reached the Pearl Bank. At some point, however, I was abruptly grabbed by the arm and pulled into a deserted alleyway between the houses. In front of me stood a figure with a bag at his side, shrouded in a plain brown cloak, that let go of my arm and moved slightly away from me. And at the same time I could smell the slight odor of baked goods that the figure exuded.

- "I apologize for my impertinent behavior, sir, but these are the orders of the mistress." said the figure and removed his hood. It turned out to be the same saleswoman from whom I had bought bread and who had handed the letter to Lina, and there was a guilty expression on her face. But the same cheerful and polite smile remained.

- "It's alright," I nodded calmly, "I understand you're here to see me off, Mistress...."

- "Yuni, sir. You're right, my job is to escort you. And please, I am not a mistress, you can just call me by my first name." She bowed her head and corrected me.

- "Okay, Yuni."

- "Here, put this on, sir," she opened her bag, which contained a cloak identical to the one she was wearing, "And then we can depart."

- "Oh?" I stared at the cloak with an incomprehensible look.

- "Don't look at me like that, master. Mistress still needs to maintain authority and rules."

- "Rules?"

- "You really haven't been in town that long, huh?" Yuni sighed, "Every client who comes to Madam's office for an appointment is accompanied by someone from her entourage, and their identity must be concealed. Madam's work has a certain charm that makes some people tend to behave extremely... fanatical. If the client's identity were to be known, then with insufficient security, he might suffer some rather... unpleasant consequences."

- "Even so?" I wondered.

- "Even so," she nodded, "I remember one client who spent his entire fortune to get to the mistress. And he did get in and even got the painting, but two days later he was found dead in one of the canals of the city, his house was burned down and the painting of the mistress was stolen. This happened before the Mistress even enacted these rules."

- "That's... staggering," I shook my head, "But then how does the client get the painting if the identity is supposed to remain secret."

- "Mistress has the right people." She stated with a smile.

- "But I took the painting and reached the temple quite calmly."

- "No matter how fanatical some of Mistress' fans are, no one will risk challenging the red men and the faceless ones." She said, to which I nodded briefly and accepted the cloak.

Once I had it on we headed towards the tavern. Of course, our group of two was accompanied by multiple stares from the people around us. And when we entered the tavern and began to go up to the third floor, its customers stopped doing their business and began either whispering with each other or just silently watching.

Incidentally, since that banquet at the Tarmo mansion, one detail or another had spread through the city like wildfire. Apparently, I had underestimated the Artist's fame, as every commoner who interacted with me in the slightest, i.e. merchants, artisans, simple laborers, tried to... suck up to me.

However, just like Yuni had said, no one dared to invade my personal space, pester me and all that sort of thing, as how crazy one would have to be to provoke two powerful faiths. The painting itself was in the red temple, as there was no point in carrying it to the black and white house, and there are simply no other options.

My work that Velano had asked me to do was finished. He said he was grateful and would remember it, but also added that he would like me to get to the bottom of it. If possible, of course. Ideally, since there was no magic involved, there was nothing stopping me from ignoring his request, but if something to do with Oris came up, why not get to the bottom of it? If only for a sense of accomplishment, I'd say.

Going upstairs, I didn't notice any changes in the interior, but here, in addition to the Artist herself, were her three maids that had assisted her in her work during the banquet. She was taking her arranged seat by the window overlooking the city and painting some sort of picture while her three assistants stood silently to the side of her.

- "I have brought him, Mistress." Yuni said respectfully and bowed.

- "Good, I'll call you when I'm done. You can be free, Yuni." Without taking her gaze off the host, the Artistry said, to which Yuni bowed once more and went back downstairs, then continued, ''Have a seat. I'll be done soon."

Taking a seat in one of the available chairs, I focused my gaze on the Artist while taking a closer look at her maids.

Each of them was different from the other: different color of eyes, hair, skin, build. But the gaze...

They watched my every move with the corner of their eyes, like a trained killer or predator that doesn't reveal itself until the hunt begins. Their gaze was cool and calculating, which was unusual and... interesting. I guess they, in addition to being the Artist's assistants, are also her guards. A good decision considering what I heard from Yuni.

After about an hour, she finished her work. The artist slowly got up from her chair and moved to the couch opposite the chair I was occupying. One of her assistants began to clean up, another carefully took the canvas and placed it facing the window, and the last one stood silently behind her mistress's shoulder.

- "You are very interesting, Master Solomon." With a stoic and mask-like expression, the Artist began, interrupting the silence.

- "Interesting? Interested in what exactly, Mistress Artist?"

- "Don't play dumb and ignorant. I had heard about you before, about what a dangerous and powerful sorcerer you are, but at that evening I saw for myself. You watched me like a vulture or a stalker, of which this city is full," she said in a monotone. "Others might think you were impressed by my skill or beauty, but not me. And we both know the real reason, don't we?"

Quite a rough start, I'd say. I wouldn't expect someone like her to act that way. However, it doesn't matter, at least not to me. But her words are true. My interest is centered on her magical skills. Not that this is anything out of the ordinary, but apparently my interlocutor thinks otherwise, judging by her tone.

- "What does this have to do with your invitation here?" I asked with a polite smile.

- "I found out that you are quite close to one "woman"." She said icily, but the last word sounded as if she was utterly disgusted to even think about her, "Whoever it was. She may or may not have already done so, but my "mother" has definitely lured you in somehow. Which means she will definitely send you to get rid of me. To wash the 'shame' off her face and clear your 'good' name."

I raised an eyebrow.

Artist was practically spitting out some words while maintaining a cold stare, and I just didn't understand what she meant. It was like the context of the conversation had gotten away from me from the very beginning and didn't want to go back.

- "I still don't understand what the point of our conversation is, Mistress Artist."

She made a very tiny gesture with her head in response to my words, as the next second three razor-sharp daggers settled at my throat, heart, and groin. Her maids surrounded me, forming a semicircle, leaving only their mistress in view. They stood absolutely still, as if they were machines, programmed only to follow orders.

- "There's no point in explaining to you what you already know," seeing my sincere bewilderment, tiny signs of irritation appeared on her face, "She prepared you, didn't she? What did she promise you? Power? Gold? My magic? What?"

- "I believe there has been a misunderstanding between us. And as much as I hate to bring others into this, you're not afraid of the Red Faith and the Black and White House? Your actions seem illogical and ill-conceived to me." I said calmly, and the dagger that was pointed at my throat almost made contact with my skin.

- "There is no misunderstanding, just a fact. What about them? There will be no problem if you consider my actions as a mere demonstration," the Artist said with absolute certainty and shook her head once more. In response, her maids obediently stood behind her, putting away and hiding their daggers, "I invited you here to make a deal. I don't know what 'mother' has offered or will offer for my head, but I'm offering you twice as much. Do I interest you?"

Outwardly I didn't react in any way, but inside there was confusion.

How did Velano's routine request to investigate his brother lead to this?

-0-

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[mirzael]

Solomon. Braavos.

The Artist waited patiently for my answer while I considered what to do about the situation. Her gaze was cold and calculating, the maids looked like puppets, and the sounds from below were muffled, making the atmosphere in the room heavier with every passing second.

To be honest, I really don't know what to do. I have no idea what, how or why, and so the only available solution would be sincerity. Yes, I can always settle the matter by force, and they, like the rest of the inhabitants of this world, have nothing to counter it, but there's no point or need for that.

If every misunderstanding in the world is solved by force, it will burn in the blink of an eye. It is far easier and more reliable to act for certain for each side, and not everyone is willing to go to a trivial conversation to resolve it. It's not pride that prevents them, not at all, but the threat to their own safety.

In this situation, if I were indeed the murderer, Artist's actions would be very reasonable. Judging by her tone and wording, her mother has already made several attempts, and the woman in front of me simply has no choice but to do just that.

However, that does not change the fact that I am the injured party. Ultimately, I'm left to just go with the flow and see what happens. At the very least, there's always the option of a show of force, as shown by the Artist through her maids.

- "You know, Mistress Artist, even if you don't want to believe my words, there really is a misunderstanding between us. I don't know who exactly is your mother and what the circumstances between you two are. Assuming? Yes, that's true, but are you sure? Certainly not," I said in a calm and confident tone, looking her straight in the eye, "And that's why I propose to clarify the situation as much as possible. You said yourself that you consider me a dangerous and powerful sorcerer, and that if I were really a murderer, I would have acted beforehand. That seems reasonable, doesn't it?"

The answer to my logically correct one was only silence and a look full of absolute certainty that I was trying to play innocent. The artist didn't believe me one bit and was still waiting for the obvious answer.

- "So we can't come to an understanding, Mistress Artist?"

- "Not until you confess and name your price, Master Solomon."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

This is not the way to move forward. The sincerity of my words simply won't reach her mind, which means... I'll have to prove it by force.

- "Do you think, Mistress Artist, is offering me power or gold enough to hire me as a simple assassin? The Red Temple and the Black and White House will gladly provide both if you just ask. Even if my stay in this city is far from long, everyone knows how much authority I hold."

- "Then—"

- "And magic?" I tilted my head and tapped the armrest twice with my index finger.

The next moment, a wave of power spread from my body like a giant tsunami. An unrestrained wind came up, scattering food and objects and furnishings. The fabric that was attached to the ceiling and windows fluttered as if trying to break free and run as far away as possible. The clear sky outside was replaced in the blink of an eye by black clouds that formed rings and gathered over the tavern where I was.

The three maids behind Artist's back were practically blown out of their seats and gently pressed against the walls of the building. Their clothes clung tightly to their bodies, their knives embedded in stone to the hilt with no way of getting them back.

Their mistress, on the other hand, opened her eyes and mouth wide, revealing greatly dilated pupils and white teeth. Her entire body shuddered from the pressure and shaking as the couch she was sitting on slid across the floor and hit the display case, collapsing the painting supplies. Brushes flew in different directions, paint splattered across furniture, walls, and floor, and canvases and parchments opened up, wrapping themselves around the first objects in their path.

And in this storm of wind and magic, I, the only one unaffected by what was happening, could clearly hear the rhythm of the Artist's heart, like the sound of a hammer hitting an anvil. Fast, strong, and loud. I could see the beaches of stunned shock in her eyes, yet they retained a determination and steely will that burned brightly enough to resemble the afternoon sun.

There was no fear in them, no despair or uncertainty. The artist looked me straight in the eye, as if she didn't notice the mess around us. Her delicate fingers clenched into fists, her eyes sharpened, and her teeth clenched. The trembling of her body slowly faded, bowing to the steely will of the Artist to show no fear of her opponent.

I examined the woman in front of me and nodded to myself in surprise.

She is strong. Not physically, but mentally. So much so that even something like this didn't cause a bit of fear in her eyes. It was as if the artist was an Atlantean who could not be broken by the weight of the firmament. And that's impressive. Very impressive.

- "Do you really think the promise of magic can seduce me?"

Her gaze lingered on me for a few seconds, then began to run around as if looking for something. It stopped on her special brush that was currently two steps away from her. Her body then abruptly filled with mana, creating an effect similar to 'Strengthening', and rushed towards the brush.

Picking it up on the run, the Artist tore towards me, taking the brush in a reverse grip as if it were a dagger, and aimed for my throat. She used her free hand to cover her face, apparently to protect herself in case of an attack.

The Artist moved, as far as I was concerned, slowly but deftly, maneuvering and keeping her eyes on me. Her gaze was filled with killing intent, and her icy expression became completely impenetrable. And when she almost reached me, still unmoving, I propped my head up with my fist and snapped the fingers of my free hand.

In the next second, green vines burst out of the floor of the third floor and braided the girl's body, then tied her to the ground, forcing her to drop the brush. Seeing the condition of their mistress, as well as the inability to retrieve the daggers from the wall, the maids with worried expressions on their faces tried to resist the wind and magic to regain their fighting ability. However, they failed, and in the end, all four girls were completely immobilized.

- "Your actions are... interesting," I said calmly, bringing the magic back into my body and looking at the disgruntled and angry face of the Artist, whose icy mask shattered under the onslaught of circumstances. The servant girls were also bound by vines, securing them to the wall. The fabrics that had been developed by the wind returned to a calm state, objects stopped moving, and a circle was formed with me as the center, where, except for the empty floor, it was as if there had never been anything, "Why attack me if the result was obvious?"

I didn't get an answer. Her intense gaze drilled through me, and it seemed to me that if it could kill me, I would be dead. The girl's whole look was like an enraged she-wolf, growling and baring her fangs menacingly. And she was definitely not happy with what was happening.

Now I could see her true face, filled with genuine emotions and feelings. Gone was the emotionless doll, giving way to a determined, desperate and strong girl ready for seemingly insane things. She doesn't want to lose, doesn't want to show her weakness, but to achieve her goal, whatever it takes. Very impressive.

And deep inside me, I felt something. Something strange and appealing, like a breath of clean water in a vast desert... I want to know what she's been through... I want to hear what she has to say at the end of this stretch of her journey... I want to see what she'll grow up to be....

Standing up from the chair, I leaned over to the bound Artist and reached out to touch her face. The response to this action was a bite that managed to damage her skin and make it bleed. The Artist's jaws clenched tightly on my hand, trying to bite it off, and all the while her gaze never left mine, as if to declare that she would not lose or bow to me.

- "You're very strong," I began and put my hand on her cheek, ignoring the pain in the still jawed limb, "I'm genuinely impressed with you and find you to be an amazing girl. This is the first time I've met someone like you, and I don't think I'll ever meet anyone like you again. You-"

- "Enough!" The Artist shouted, letting go of my hand and spitting blood in my face, "I don't need your empty flattery, you lying bastard! Just finish the job, and kill me! My pride won't bend to your pathetic words!"

- "Why would I kill you if there was no point?" Tilting my head and wiping away the blood with my hand, I asked, "Why would I kill an interesting girl like you, Lavena Satrion."

- "What... How..." she froze, and then her displeasure turned to pure rage, "Don't you dare speak my name with your lying mouth!"

- "And since you've already given up your life, why don't I take it for myself?"

- "Huh?"

I touched her forehead with my finger, and a second later, her entire body was covered with a tattoo that flashed with golden light and then slowly disappeared, leaving the girl's pure skin as if it had always been like this.

- "What have you done to me!"

- "You belong to me now, Mistress Lavena," I said, at which her face twisted in disgust, "Of course, it's not forever. One day I will give you your freedom back, but only when you become "free" and ask for it."

- "Free"?! What are you talking about?! My "mother" told you to do that, didn't she?!"

- "Right now, I see in front of me a child with parental problems. You live your life solely to hurt your mother, because if you didn't, you'd send the killers yourself. You are strong, but at the same time you are empty and constrained," I said calmly and raised my free hand up, putting up three fingers, "We can't continue this conversation now, so we'll do it when you wake up. When your thoughts are clear and not clouded by your mother's revenge."

- "You...!"

A snap of fingers rang through the room, causing the Artist and her maids to faint. There was dead silence in the room, interrupted by conversations from the first floor of the building. The closed field I'd placed before releasing the magic from my body didn't let anything out, so no one knew anything, except for the change in the weather, of course.

I estimated that they would be unconscious for about an hour, and so, after another snap of my fingers, it was as if the room was returning to its original state in flashback. Objects returned to their places, furniture took the same places it should occupy, paint from the floor collected back into its cans, leaving behind the cleanliness. The maids' daggers returned to their sheaths on their hips, and the holes in the walls disappeared.

I, on the other hand, straightened up and began to walk around the room, looking at the available paintings to kill time.

Hopefully, when they wake up, we'll be able to have a proper conversation.

-0-

Sansa Stark. The Kingsroad.

The days flew by one by one, and the caravan continued to move along the Kingsroad. Every now and then we stopped at small taverns or just at the request of the royal family, but then we continued on to the Moat of Cailin.

There were no particular changes, and all the people I knew were doing about the same as usual. Father is still busy with the king, Arya, Prince Tommen and Princess Myrcella are spending time together, Fou is stealing food, and Prince Joffrey continues his aimless walks just to show his "importance".

Now I was sitting in the tent assigned to the Starks, contemplating what to do while they set up camp outside for the night.

Since that conversation with Lord Tyrion, information gathering had been very reluctant. I'd been able to gather only bits and pieces of what I needed, playing the nosy young lady, but I hadn't been able to find out much. Just a couple of names, that's all.

The most notable thing I heard was the presence of the Queen of Spikes, Olenna Tyrell, in King's Landing. Her fame precedes her, and I may have to avoid contact with her until better times. If Lord Tyrion could see my game, all the more so can she. In addition to her of the Tyrrells, her granddaughter, Margaery Tyrell, is also there. As described to me, a beautiful, caring and intelligent lady that helps the people of the capital of the Seven Kingdoms. Given her grandmother, I will have to avoid her as well, or keep contact to a minimum if I want to be prepared for anything.

I sighed tiredly and stroked the Lady lying at my feet.

Either way, whatever you do, you'll have to wait. I just don't have the opportunity to prepare in any way. Unless something special happens, of course....

The next moment, the entrance to the tent opened, revealing one of Winterfell's men, with Golden cloak standing behind him.

- "Lady Sansa," the first greeted me and bowed, "a message has come for you."

- "A message?" I asked, to which he nodded and looked at Golden cloak, who stepped forward and repeated the first man's actions.

- "The Queen wishes to see you, Lady Sansa. I am here to escort you to her."

Hearing his words, my eyes widened in surprise, and then I grinned to myself.

What was it Lord Solomon used to say? "Murphy's Law", huh?

-0-

A/N: How's the chapter? Give us your opinion. You may well be able to influence future chapters.
My P.a.t.r.e.o.n: P.a.t.r.e.o.n.c.o.m/mirzael
You'll be able to read more chapters there.