The Vigil of a Nobody

He had been ordered to keep watch here.

His current identity was that of an unknown Free Rider who had come to the North with the king.

He owed no loyalty and served only for money and food.

This identity had its advantages and disadvantages.

On the one hand, he did not have to constantly follow some noble around, giving him greater freedom and concealment.

But at the same time, he had lost Winterfell's trust. Many important places were closed to him, including the place where his target was.

Every day, he could only rack his brains for a way to approach his target—Maester Luwin of Winterfell.

It was said that someone intended to secretly frame the noble Lannisters. His task was to watch the target and prevent malicious villains from passing even a word of slander to Maester Luwin, let alone allowing House Stark to hear such rumors.

This was no easy task.

The maester's tower stood near the city wall. Not far away were the bustling Hunter's Gate, the bell tower, kitchens, kennels, and stables.

During the day, it was fine. Many people moved about all over Winterfell, and he did not stand out. But what use was that? Malicious villains would not act in broad daylight. His battlefield was bound to be the night.

What excuse could he have for staying here at night? None.

He could only hide his tracks.

Fortunately, he had undergone rigorous training and knew how to move silently without alerting people or animals.

The only things he was not confident he could fool were those Direwolves.

Whenever he approached those cursed creatures, their eyes always frightened him away. He had no doubt that if he took a few more steps forward, those wolf pups would pounce on him directly.

Fortunately, the wolves were always kept close by their wolf owners. Even when sleeping, they stayed in the distant main keep.

Gods bless.

This evening's operation had gone smoothly.

After spotting only three guards, he climbed onto the concealed stone ledge outside the window of this two-story building.

He knew that Crown Prince Joffrey and two Little Wolves had ventured deep into the Crypts, prompting Catelyn Tully to send a large number of people inside to search for them. They had probably only just come out.

Naturally, this route was much less guarded.

Thank the Crown Prince.

Just as he thought that, a gust of cold wind swept past, and he nearly coughed aloud.

Winterfell at night was simply too cold. Born on the summer coast of the Sunset Sea, he had never experienced such bitter cold.

He struggled to stretch his limbs against the wall beneath him.

Winterfell's underground hot springs flowed through its walls. Threads of warmth seeped from the stone, offering him his only comfort.

How wondrous.

He thought of the "Glass Gardens," where fruits and vegetables could actually be grown and beautiful flowers could bloom.

He had heard that it was as warm inside as spring in the south.

The target inside rose to his feet. He hurriedly held his breath and buried his entire body in the shadowed corner.

The target took a book, then sat back down.

The target fell asleep over the desk.

He was not surprised. The old maester often worked until late at night, reading and writing by candlelight. Taking a nap was perfectly normal.

He was only a little discouraged.

There had not been the slightest movement during these days of surveillance, and he had begun to wonder whether the position Lord Tyrion had assigned him was truly important.

After all, his dozen or so companions each had their own targets.

Although Maester Luwin should have been one of Stark's most trusted people, and although the main keep was heavily guarded, making it highly likely that anyone wishing to pass along a message would seek out Maester Luwin, the fact remained that he had found nothing.

Sigh.

On the other side, Joffrey was equally helpless.

He did not know whether his expectations were too high or whether the Lannisters' intelligence-gathering capabilities were truly inadequate.

In any case, more than a month ago, Tyrion had given him a dozen or so names. These were the people Tywin had instructed Tyrion to guard against, in case someone tried to drive a wedge between the Lion and the gray wolves.

In other words, Joffrey also had to deal with the turmoil caused by Lysa Tully's secret letter in Winterfell.

He had finally won over several Little Wolves, and House Stark was about to become a steadfast ally. How could he let a single letter ruin everything?

Damn Littlefinger. He really was the root of all evil.

Though he knew the Lannisters had made preparations, he could not put his mind at ease.

Every night, he used the Mind Rune and Scout Rune to keep watch over Maester Luwin and Eddard's couple, terrified that he might miss the secret letter through a moment of carelessness and see all his efforts go to waste.

Fortunately, he no longer needed long sleep to restore his mind. Otherwise, he would have dropped dead from exhaustion long ago.

Even so, the nights remained difficult to endure.

His only diversion was observing these targets himself.

Lord Stark and his wife were full of energy.

This Lannister spy, whose real name he did not know, could lie still for an entire night. He was a talented man.

Maester Luwin was a typical maester. The frail old man with gray hair and gray eyes had no private amusements. Every day, he was busy reading letters, writing letters, reading books, feeding Message Ravens, and completing the various tasks entrusted to him by the lord.

After observing Maester Luwin's daily life for so many days, Joffrey could not help but mourn for the second sons of Westerosi nobles.

To prevent too many conflicts in family inheritance, most second sons without inheritance rights became maesters, septons, or men of The Night's Watch.

All of these professions required them to remain unmarried and childless, giving up their lands and titles.

Even the Kingsguard, the most glorious order among knights and Bran's childhood dream, happened to forbid marriage and children as well.

This showed just how much noble lords valued the intact inheritance of their family lands.

Joffrey decided to fight for the rights of second sons. The more dispersed and weaker the nobility became, the more secure the king could be.

A figure suddenly entered Joffrey's field of perception.

Joffrey immediately perked up.

Finally?

The figure in his "vision" moved step by step, pausing from time to time to watch the surroundings. He was clearly not merely passing through.

The figure held an exquisitely carved wooden box in his arms. Inside was a lens, and in its hidden compartment was a letter.

Joffrey watched him make his way toward the maester's tower.

The spy had not noticed?

Joffrey shifted his vision back to the spy. The bastard had actually fallen asleep at a time like this!

Could his luck possibly be any worse?!

The Message Ravens in the rookery suddenly took flight in a flock, circling silently above the tower.

Something was wrong! Joffrey sensed something.

The Three-Eyed Crow?

He hurriedly activated the Information Rune and wove a dream for the spy.

The spy suddenly jolted awake.

I fell asleep? And had two strange dreams?

He believed his professionalism would never allow such a mistake, but he had no time to ponder the oddity now.

A figure had appeared before his target.

The figure quietly set down a wooden box and was about to leave.

The target opened his eyes.

The figure immediately fled in panic.

He waited silently as the man ran to a spot several meters below him.

He gripped his dagger and jumped down.

One slash across the throat.

It was a perfect strike, but he did not succeed.

He looked toward Maester Luwin in the tower. The old maester had already picked up the wooden box.

He had no choice but to go over and end this.

The ravens grew increasingly agitated, gradually letting out hoarse, piercing cries.

Joffrey had encountered an invisible enemy.

He "looked" toward Bran's bedroom. Bran slept peacefully, surrounded by an inexplicable force.

The Three-Eyed Crow!

Joffrey added that dog bastard to his blacklist.

You messed with Bran, dared to interfere with my subordinate's work, and tried to drive a wedge between the Lion and the wolves.

You're finished!