Just as this fragile alliance was forged, heavy footsteps sounded behind them.
The footsteps were unhurried, yet carried a weight impossible to ignore.
Lynn and Jaime turned at the same time.
Ned Stark.
The Warden of the North had climbed onto the battlements at some point.
He was alone, without a sword, wearing only a plain gray coat.
Deep exhaustion etched his resolute face.
Jaime Lannister released Lynn's hand almost instinctively, his body tensing slightly.
He looked at Ned Stark.
The mask of mockery and wariness settled over his handsome face once more.
"Lord Stark."
Jaime's tone was flippant, as though he were deliberately hiding something.
"Out here in the cold at this hour, instead of keeping your drunken king company at the feast?"
"Or have you come to pass moral judgment on me before bed?"
"Will it be honor, or oaths?"
Jaime paused, his smile growing more derisive.
"If that's the case, I'd advise you to save your breath."
"I've heard your tired sermons so often my ears are calloused."
Ned ignored his provocation.
His gaze passed over Jaime's carefully nonchalant face, then flicked toward the composed Lynn beside him.
Finally, it returned to Jaime.
Those gray eyes were like an overcast winter sky in the North.
Dark and oppressive.
Yet, unexpectedly, the familiar contempt and loathing were gone?
"I just heard you're going north with Lynn."
Ned's voice rang out.
It was not a question.
The smile froze on Jaime's face.
He had not expected Ned to say that.
He had readied a bellyful of barbed retorts, only to find that the other man had not struck at all.
It felt like putting all his strength into a punch that hit nothing but air.
"So what if I am?"
Jaime raised an eyebrow.
"A Lannister always pays his