At night in the Eyrie, the wind never stopped howling.
The banner of House Arryn, embroidered with a white crescent moon and a blue falcon, snapped as the gale tugged at it.
At the top of a lofty tower on the western side of the castle, Andar Royce sat before a cold stone window.
The room was comfortably furnished, befitting his status as the heir to Runestone, but it was a prison cell all the same.
Outside the window, dark mountain ridges rolled beneath the moonlight, appearing and disappearing amid a churning sea of clouds.
After returning to the Vale from the Hand of the King's Tourney, he had been invited to the Eyrie to attend Lady Lysa.
But after his father, Earl Yohn, formed the Lords Declarant, he had immediately been placed under house arrest.
His father's declaration of the Lords Declarant had caused an enormous stir throughout the Vale.
And he had become a pawn in that storm, powerless over his own fate.
He worried for his father's safety and his family's future, and the chaos now gripping the Vale pained him even more.
Under Lord Jon Arryn's rule, the Vale had been one of the most just and peaceful places in the Seven Kingdoms.
Under Littlefinger, however, the Vale had fallen into utter chaos.
Tap, tap, tap.
A soft knock broke the silence of the room.
Andar was somewhat surprised.
Who could it be at this hour?
The knights guarding him usually did nothing more than roughly deliver his food.
He rose and warily opened the heavy oak door.
Outside stood not a fully armed guard, but a young woman.
She was strong and agile, dressed in leather armor that allowed her to move freely and thick woolen trousers, with a dark cloak over them.
Mya Stone.