[67] A New Base of Operation
Chapter 67: A New Base of Operation
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About half an hour later, I stood behind some trees far from the outer walls of the city, with Cersei beside me, her clothes exchanged for a more common outfit.
She shot me a furious glare as we waited. “...I’ll make you suffer for this,” she hissed, but she still followed when I grabbed her arm and led her toward the gate she’d mentioned to Trant.
The sky stretched over the open land, and we didn’t walk long before I spotted them. Four riders headed away from the city.
My lips curled into a grin as I recognized Kinvara, still disguised as “Nyra” with her striking red hair, riding Dany White. That made me smile, I was worried that I'd have to pay another visit to get my horse out.
The Sand Snakes rode alongside her, all tense and on guard, their weapons beside them. Even from here, I could see bruises marking their arms and faces. They obviously had it worse in captivity than Kinvara, who looked as pristine as ever.
“Your guards weren't exactly gentle with our Dornish friends,” I commented to Cersei as we headed toward the group.
“Don't talk to me.”
The Sand Snakes tensed as we approached, hands drifting to hidden blades. But Kinvara’s face lit up with a knowing smile.
“You sure took your time,” she said in a teasing tone, amusement dancing in her eyes. “I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about us because of that Stark girl.”
“Forget? Never,” I replied, liking how our usual banter hadn't been lost in the short time I wasn't here. And that seemed to bother Cersei. “Though I did get a bit sidetracked, I took care of it.” I gave Cersei's waist a squeeze for emphasis.
The way Kinvara's smirk widened told me she fully understood exactly what kind of taking care I meant. Seeing the mix of annoyance flash across Cersei's features was almost worth it.
Kinvara’s gaze landed on her, and her smile got bigger. “So I see. And here I assumed you had a thing for redheads. Welcome aboard, Your Grace.”
Cersei trembled in rage at the mockery, and the Sand Snakes gasped in shock in recognition. They hadn't expected me to abduct the Queen.
“The little queen needed some personal attention,” I said, matching her teasing tone, my hand slapping against the bitch Queen's ass. “How could I say no?”
Cersei gasped, trembling in rage and glaring at me, but she could do nothing.
She realized that she was nobody before me, a lion without claws.
One of the Sand Snakes, Obara, cleared her throat. “This is all super entertaining, but maybe we should deal with more urgent problems?”
“I agree with the girl.” Kinvara sat a little straighter on my horse. “Where are we heading now? I doubt we're staying here given you had us dropped outside.”
Her question spread around with the cool morning air, as I parted my lips to tell her my plan.
****
The night breeze brushed against my wings as I flew over Hayford Castle, an area merely a day's distance on horseback.
My enhanced eyesight took in every detail of the fortress below. In the moonlight, those red-tiled roofs looked almost silver, and the torches on the walls seemed like scattered stars.
From up here, it all seemed so calm—a pretty little jewel surrounded by rolling hills and fertile fields. It was a single castle building in the middle of nowhere, and the Kingsroad snaked alongside the castle, like a pale ribbon vital for anyone traveling between King’s Landing and Duskendale.
What a waste, I thought, veering left to study their defensive layout.
The guards marched along the battlements in easy-to-predict routes, their torches basically giving away where they were. The high stone walls did look impressive but they weren’t on the same level as some of the mightier castles I've seen. Two towers anchored the corners facing the road, good spots for archers if anyone was willing to go for a head-on assault.
A small brook gurgled somewhere below, feeding the farmland around it. The outer bailey sprawled in front of me, complete with barracks and stables, enough for a decent garrison—except now, it hardly had any. Fair, why would they need a bigger force, anyway? I sneered, recalling how the Lannisters had snatched this place.
The last Hayford heir was just a baby girl, so they married her off to some distant Lannister cousin who probably spent her inheritance while she played with dolls.
Typical. Lannister bastards. They always believed themselves so clever, weaving their webs of marriage and money, never expecting someone might chop all their strings.
From one of the tall windows in the great hall, candlelight glowed. It was the only room that was lit. It made me wonder who could be in there.
I swooped lower, wings barely making a sound, searching for a spot to slip in. The inner bailey offered a few choices, but I needed somewhere quiet...
The lit window in the family wing, away from the main hustle, was my target. I glided closer, sticking to the shadows thrown by the castle walls.
As I drew near, I glimpsed movement inside, making me blink.
A woman stood in front of a mirror, humming under her breath while she arranged her hair. Her dress seemed too nice for a simple servant, though she moved with the simplicity of one.
Interesting, who's she? I landed silently on the balcony, folding my wings as I stepped into the candlelit room.
“Hmm-mm-hmm~” she was humming to herself, doing her hair in a long braid. I didn't get to observe for long as she caught my reflection in the mirror, blinking, as her dark eyes turned around.
Her freckled nose rose up as her eyes widened, and her mouth widened as she went for a scream. “A-”
I was there in two strides, clamping a hand over her mouth before she could let out a sound. Her eyes went wide with fear as she took in my face in the mirror, her body trembling against mine.
I kept her pinned against me, feeling how hard her heart pounded. She was no Cersei Lannister, it'd be easy to crush her mind.
Candlelight flickered over her panicked eyes in the glass, showing how she was trying to make sense of it all. Without warning, I scooped her into my arms and jumped through the window.
Her shriek got muffled behind my palm as we dropped toward the ground. Night air whipped around us, and my wings flared out, catching a rising current that sent us soaring into the starry sky.
I pulled my hand away from her mouth, letting her terrified scream echo across the heavens. “AAHH! W-WHO ARE YOU?!”
The castle shrank below, the torches looking like tiny fireflies in the dark.
“Forget those stupid questions. Beautiful view, don’t you think?” I asked casually, then abruptly tucked my wings and dived. She screamed louder as the ground rushed up at an insane speed.
At the last second, I spread my wings again, snapping us into a sharp curve that left her gasping for breath.
I repeated the maneuver a few times, climbing high and then plunging back down—each time pulling us out of it just before disaster. Her voice got raspier with every scream, her nails digging into my shoulders.
At last, I glided back to her chamber window, stepping onto the balcony and carrying her inside. I set her down gently, and she immediately scrambled away from me, pressing herself against the far wall.
“W-who…” Her chest was heaving, her hair a complete mess from the flight.
“I won't hurt you,” I said quietly, keeping my distance as I tucked my wings away. “But I can if I want. So… cooperate, alright?”
She stared at me, dark eyes huge, her body trembling as she pushed herself tighter into that corner.
****
The maid—Myranda was her name—had quite the interesting story to tell once she calmed down enough to speak. Amazing what a few death-defying flights through the night sky could do to loosen someone's tongue.
First of all, she was no Lady, unlike what the size of her bedroom might suggest, as well as her outfits.
She'd been the head servant at Hayford Castle for a short few years now, and was practically running the place since Lady Ermesande was just a babe. No lord or lady to answer to meant Myranda lived better than most highborn ladies—she controlled the servants, managed the household funds, wore the previous mistresses’ expensive clothes, and even got to sleep in one of the nicer chambers. Pretty sweet deal for a commoner.
But the best part? This backwater castle didn't even have a Maester. That meant all messages, all information flowing in and out, went through her hands first. She'd built herself quite the comfortable little nest here, ruling over her domain while sending neat, tidy reports to the Lannisters about how well their interests were being looked after.
At least until recently.
Everything changed when that boy Tyrek Lannister was betrothed to little Lady Ermesande. The golden boy showed up with his own retinue of servants, all loyal to House Lannister rather than the cozy setup Myranda had going. Suddenly her position wasn't so secure anymore. Her access to the master bedroom was snatched, and she was moved to a different, albeit still big, room.
Those newcomers started questioning her authority, watching how she spent the castle's coin, wondering why she lived so well for a mere servant.
It was a sad story, how pitiful. Well, not really. She was taking advantage of the current house head’s age. But I will sympathise with her. She'll be an ally.
I could see the fear in her eyes as she huddled in the corner of her bed, back pressed against the wall like she thought she could melt into the stone if she tried hard enough. Her hands twisted in the fabric of her fine dress—probably worth more than most servants made in a year.
"So… W-what are you goin' to do to me, m'lord?" she asked, her common accent slipping through despite her attempts to sound refined.
I shrugged, standing at my full height near the window where moonlight cast my shadow long across her floor. "It depends.”
“Depends…?”
“On how bold you are. I can easily fix your problem," I said simply. "Come with me, take me to the rooms of the Lannister servants, and I'll kill them all. I'll tie up the Lannister boy after that. Since you control the information passage, the Lannisters won't know what's going on here as you send them reports as usual. Am I clear?"
She trembled harder, eyes darting between me and the door. I could practically see the thoughts racing through her head—if she did as I asked and the Lannisters found out, they'd have her head for sure.
I scoffed at her hesitation, pulling a dagger from my inventory. The blade materialized in my hand like magic, making her gasp.
“Listen, girl,” I said. "You don't look that old, so don't make a stupid choice. And the stupid choice here is clear. You'll die now if you don't help me."
Myranda just trembled. She squeezed her eyes shut, shoulders slumping in defeat. After a long moment, she nodded with a heavy sigh. “Yes, m’lord…”
"Good choice," I said, letting the dagger vanish again. "In exchange, I will grant you the actual Ladyship over this House. Give me a month, alright?"
She looked up at me, confusion written all over her face. The idea that a servant could become a true Lady probably seemed impossible to her. And who was I to give her that?
I just smiled, already savoring how perfectly this would all play out.
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