Lynn calmly regarded the man before him, the "Spider" renowned throughout the Seven Kingdoms.
The gentle smile on Varys's face looked inscrutable in the candlelight.
"Lord Varys, what you see is what matters most."
Rather than answer his question, Lynn pushed a wine cup toward him.
"You've spent more than a decade weaving your web in King's Landing. Surely it wasn't merely to catch a few flies."
Varys's hands, tucked inside his sleeves, paused briefly, and a flicker of surprise crossed his unfathomable eyes.
He accepted the cup but did not drink, merely bringing it to his nose for a gentle sniff.
"Fine wine."
He voiced his appreciation.
"A fine vintage from the Arbor, yet it carries a hint of a fragrance that does not belong to Westeros."
"Much like you, Ser-full of secrets."
Lynn did not respond to that, simply continuing on his own.
"Lannister, Stark, Baratheon..."
"These great houses are like pieces on a chessboard, fighting to the death over a rusty Iron Throne."
"They see only the victories and defeats before them, yet none have noticed that the board itself is almost rotten through."
Varys's smile gradually faded, his expression turning solemn.
"The treasury's ledgers are an enormous joke."
"The nobles lose themselves in drunken indulgence, while the common people struggle on the brink of starvation."
"And more frightening still..."
Lynn's gaze seemed to pierce the walls, looking toward the distant north.
"The long summer has passed."
"A winter that will sweep over everything is descending upon us."
"When that happens, with endless nights, dwindling harvests, suffering people, and corpses of the starved strewn across the land, what point will there be in arguing over who should sit on the Iron Throne?"
Varys fell utterly silent.
He stared at Lynn, this absurdly young Black Knight, with unprecedented