"..."
A hoarse, ancient voice seeped from the shadows, as though it came from another world.
As the eerie whisper circled overhead, Gryn's fingertips had already touched the ruby hilt of Lady Forlorn, and the voice vanished with it.
Gryn Crabb rested both hands behind his head and silently stared into the dimness above. He really did not like this sort of thing...
After a pause, Gryn picked up the bell beside him and gave it a shake.
Before the bell's echoes had faded, the door was quietly pushed open. Ser Brienne of Tarth, who had been keeping watch outside, entered sideways with an oil lamp in hand.
"Your Grace?"
Ser Brienne's lowered voice carried a trace of roughness. After a brief pause, Gryn, seated on the bed, gave her a slight nod. "Please light the candles."
The candlelight flickered.
Ser Brienne came before him again, concern and tension showing on her face. "Your Grace Gryn, did you... have a nightmare?"
As she discreetly studied Gryn, she picked up the golden wine flask and poured him a cup.
"A nightmare?"
Gryn smiled. Taking the cup she offered, he added, "More precisely, I was disturbed by an impertinent visitor, but he could never become my nightmare."
He?
Who was he?!
Brienne was even more puzzled, though she did not pry. Straightening her back, she said, "Your Grace, please give your command. The Kingsguard are the king's shield and sword."
Looking at the exceedingly solemn Brienne, Gryn's lips curved gently. Then he pointed to the space beside him. "Please sit. Let's talk."
Thump, thump.
Her heartbeat suddenly quickened. Keeping her face expressionless, Brienne hesitated slightly before bending her knees and sitting down. Her skirted armor brushed against the velvet sheets with a faint rustle.
The dark-red wine rippled in the cup as