The air in the secret passage was cold and stagnant, carrying the smell of old lime and dust.
Lysa Arryn's heart hammered in her chest.
Every beat sounded like a drum!
She followed Petyr, taking each step with care.
Warm candlelight spilled through the gap around the stone slab overhead, along with her son's stifled, frightened sobs.
Every sound branded her heart like a red-hot iron.
She wanted to take her son and flee far away right now!
This instant!
Immediately!
"It's almost time."
Petyr's voice sounded beside her ear.
"Wait for me."
With only those words, Petyr slipped soundlessly into the room above.
Lysa did not even see how he moved.
She heard only a faint squelch, like fabric tearing.
Then came the dull thud of something heavy hitting the floor.
Then everything fell silent.
Lysa clamped her hands over her mouth, not daring to make a sound.
A moment later, the stone slab slid open without a sound.
Petyr's face reappeared in the darkness, and he reached out to her.
"Come up, my little Lysa."
"It's time to take our son away."
Trembling, Lysa let Petyr pull her into the room.
The tall soldier from the North was nowhere to be seen.
Her son, Robert Arryn, was curled up in a corner of the bed, shaking with fear.
"Robert! My sweet baby!"
Lysa could no longer hold herself back.
With a stifled sob, she rushed forward and clasped his small, thin body tightly in her arms.
"Mother! Mother!"
Only when that familiar warmth surrounded him did Robert Arryn finally emerge from his overwhelming terror.
He burst into loud sobs, his little arms locked around Lysa's neck.
"Mother! I was so scared! He's a bad man! He wanted to make me take bitter medicine!"
"It's all right now, it's