Chapter 35: Jon Arryn

"Please be careful."

"'Please be careful'?" The old Hand's sharp gaze, like an eagle, fixed on the strange man ahead who issued the warning. "Who are you, hiding your identity and not daring to show your true face?"

Just now, the guard Shuf had reported to the old Hand that an unnamed visitor had bypassed the other guards outside the Hand's tower and appeared before his personal attendant, requesting a meeting.

The visitor was burly, wearing muddy, tattered boots and a heavy, coarse brown robe. His face was hidden by a hooded cloak, his body reeked of sweat, and his hands were hidden in layers of sleeves.

"Please forgive me." The masked man spoke in a strange, deep tone. "Lord Hand, I request to speak with you alone."

The old Hand squinted, not immediately responding. The air hung heavy with tension. "Shuf, you may leave." As the old Hand issued the order, the tense air slightly eased. Once the door closed and only the two of them remained, the visitor lifted his hood.

"Varys." The old Hand spoke the visitor's name, without a trace of surprise, as if he had expected this.

"Lord Hand," Varys greeted the old Hand politely. "Please be cautious. I fear someone intends to harm you."

"'Someone.'" The old Hand asked, "Who?"

"You ask me, Lord Hand," Varys replied. "I dare say, you probably know better than I do."

The old Hand asked the next question: "What do you know?"

Varys answered, "You hold a high position of power; they wouldn't dare confront you openly. Lord Hand, please be careful with your food. Have someone taste it before you eat from now on."

The old Hand's eyelids twitched slightly: "You say someone will poison me. Do you have evidence?"

Varys spoke with respectful tone: "Wise as you are, can you not imagine their means? Who would..."

"Only those unworthy of being called human would think of such a thing." The old Hand cut Varys off sternly.

Varys did not take offense: "People say poison is a woman's weapon."

The old Hand did not give him a pleasant look: "Also that of cowards and eunuchs."

"You do not trust me." Varys sighed, "But this is my sincere warning, Lord Hand."

"What do you know?" The old Hand asked again, repeating his earlier question. "You know what I'm asking."

"Your every move concerns the state." Varys replied, "Many eyes are watching you."

"Including yours." The old Hand said, "People say in King's Landing, little birds are everywhere, and the Spider knows all."

Varys gave a sharp, wounding smile: "No one can know everything; that is merely the talk of common folk, Lord Hand. A wise man like you should understand. I only know what I should know; that is the duty the king has assigned to me."

The old Hand asked: "So, the king sent you? The king knows?"

"My duty sent me, Lord Hand. Mock me if you wish, but even a eunuch has a sense of honor." Varys looked a bit saddened, as if hurt, "It is you who hold the realm together, and we all know what the king does every day."

The old Hand did not trust him at all: "Such words alone could get your tongue removed."

"You want to treat me like Ser Ilyn Payne?"

Ser Ilyn Payne was the current King's executioner, a knight from the western House Payne.

During the reign of King Aerys II, he served as the captain of the guard for Tywin Lannister, the Hand of the King. It was reported that he claimed "Tywin is the true ruler of the Seven Kingdoms," and thus had his tongue torn out by the King.

"I am not Tywin, and the current King is not Aerys II." The old Hand asked for the third time, "I ask again, what do you know?"

"If you are referring to your secret dealings with Lord Stannis, I will tell you frankly, Lord Hand, I know, and the King knows." Varys replied, "You plan to let Lord Stannis take over your duties as Warden of the East, and have your son become his ward. But what you might not know is that the King has privately promised this position to Jaime Lannister, and he wants your son to be fostered by Lord Tywin."

"!!!"

The old Hand stared at Varys for a long moment without speaking, the heavy atmosphere in the room causing dry mouths.

"Hmph." The old Hand broke the silence. "Leave, Varys. Your duty is to serve the King. Staying loyal to the King, without favoring anyone, is your duty."

"Yes, Lord Hand." Varys could not help but sigh inwardly, "I will remember your admonishment."

Varys left.

After a while, the old Hand's servant, Shuf, knocked and entered.

The old Hand asked, "Did you see where the visitor went?"

"The stables," the young servant replied. "I followed down but couldn't find him. I got lost."

"Never mind, go on. From now on, keep someone on watch near the stables."

After giving his instructions and seeing the servant Shuf leave, the old Hand retrieved the book "Genealogies and Histories of Major Noble Houses of the Seven Kingdoms" that he had borrowed from Grand Maester Pycelle, from among the scrolls on the desk in the Hand's reception room.

Carefully tucking the book into his bosom, he formally ended his day's work and headed back to his room.

When he returned to his room, his wife, Lady Lysa Tully, was half-lying on the bed holding their young son, Robert Arryn.

Lady Lysa was breastfeeding their six-year-old son.

Robert Arryn had always been frail and sickly, and Lysa's extreme doting and overprotection meant that, even at six years old, Robert had not been weaned.

Seeing his child in such a state, the old Hand felt a mix of heartache and the grim recognition that Robert was in no condition to bear any responsibilities.

Old Jon knew he was not young anymore. He had designated many heirs, but one by one, they had died before him. His wife had suffered multiple miscarriages, and ultimately, they had only managed to have one frail son, Robert Arryn.

His marriage to Lady Lysa had been unhappy. During Robert's Rebellion, to gain the support of Riverrun, Jon and his ward, Eddard Stark, had married the daughters of Lord Hoster Tully—Lysa Tully and Catelyn Tully, respectively.

At that time, Old Jon had been old enough to be Lady Lysa's grandfather....

"Still awake, my lady?" the old Hand greeted his wife. In his experience, such a scenario usually meant Lady Lysa had something to harp on about—either to punish an "unruly" servant or to demand some position or arrangement.

Lady Lysa had not always been this way.

In her youth, she had been a beautiful, slender, and busty girl, fragile and shy.

Now, however, she had become paranoid, harsh, and bitter, seeing enemies everywhere.

Maids and servants feared her, and only the old Hand's authority could somewhat restrain her.

But not today.

Today, Lady Lysa was quietly nursing their child.

Her hands gently stroked the baby in her arms, and a smile blossomed on her face, making her look like a tender and loving mother.

When she heard her husband's greeting, she quickly gestured for him to be quiet.

"♪Sweet Robin, dear, Mommy loves you,♫" Lady Lysa sang softly, soothing her child with a lullaby. "♪Sweet Robin, dear, eat well and sleep soundly..."

This warm scene brought a sense of unexpected comfort to the Hand of the King, who had been worn out from a long day. He nodded in greeting to his wife and then, moving quietly, walked towards the writing desk in their bedroom.

Out of habit, he intended to pour himself a glass of wine before bed.

The wine jug was empty.

Looking at his wife and child, he did not want to say anything that might disturb them. Instead, he quietly got up and tiptoed to the door, softly calling his personal servant, Shuf, to fetch more wine.

Before long, his servant returned with a freshly filled wine jug.

Before going to bed, he flipped through the book "The Major Noble Houses and Histories of the Seven Kingdoms" again at his desk.

Thinking about what he and Stannis had discovered, his emotions became inexplicably complicated, and he let out a heartfelt sigh.

This terrifying truth, if not handled carefully, could plunge the entire kingdom into chaos. The solution he chose would profoundly affect the direction of the nation. The burden on his shoulders was immense and incredibly difficult to bear.

With these complex emotions, the Hand of the King took a sip of his wine.

Lady Lysa's gentle lullaby continued to sing softly in the background.

♪♫"Sweet Robin, dear, Mommy loves you.

Sweet Robin, dear, sleep soundly.

With Mommy here, no one can harm you.

With Mommy here, no one can make you afraid.

Sweet Robin, dear, Mommy loves you.

Sweet Robin, dear, sweet Robin, dear."♫♪

That night, the Hand of the King fell ill.

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