Kapitel 133: Chapter 134: The Confrontation
"I'm going to kill him! I'll kill him!" Prince Oberyn roared, holding his spear with a savage expression.
"Don't be reckless, Oberyn!" Ellaria Sand held him tightly around the waist, struggling to calm her lover. "If you go after Petyr Baelish now, all the patience we've had will be for nothing! It won't clear your name—it'll only add more blood to your hands. If you do this, House Martell will truly become an enemy of the entire realm. Have you forgotten the lesson of Starfall?"
Perhaps her final words struck a chord. Oberyn, breathing heavily, forced himself to calm down, though a cold glint still burned in his eyes.
"Then what am I supposed to do?" he demanded, his voice filled with fury.
Ellaria sighed with relief but kept her hold on him. "We need to start by looking for proof."
"How are we supposed to find evidence?" Oberyn growled impatiently. "If Petyr had the audacity to do this, he wouldn't leave any trace!"
"Lysa Tully," Ellaria suggested, her voice icy. "She's a weak woman. She could be our way in."
"Lysa Tully, Lysa Tully…" Oberyn muttered through gritted teeth. "How do we approach her? She'll never admit anything."
"Trust me, Oberyn—I know how to handle women like her. Besides, she has a son." Ellaria smiled coldly.
"I doubt you'll succeed."
"At least let me try!" Ellaria pleaded. "There's still time—the trial isn't happening immediately. Acting on impulse now would ruin everything."
"I could make my suspicions public!" Oberyn's breathing slowed as he began to think more clearly. "Yes, if I make my accusation openly, I could force Petyr to stand trial alongside me. Then…"
"Don't be foolish, Oberyn. Lysa Tully is Jon Arryn's widow. If you make such an accusation without evidence, no one will believe you—they'll think you're just making wild claims. Give me a chance to go to the Eyrie and investigate. I may be able to find something useful."
"Fine." Oberyn finally lowered his spear. "How will you get in?"
"Under the pretense of apologizing sincerely for your actions and begging Lady Lysa's forgiveness."
"That would be like admitting I killed Jon Arryn."
"I'm only your lover, not your wife," Ellaria replied with a hint of bitterness. "I have no standing to speak on your behalf. It's merely an excuse to get close to her."
"Very well, leave as soon as you can." Oberyn nodded, pretending not to notice the note of reproach in her voice.
After a moment's thought, he added, "And don't tell anyone about this—not even Arianne. She can't keep anything to herself."
"I understand." Ellaria rose on tiptoe to kiss him, then slipped out of the room.
After she left, Oberyn sat alone, lost in thought.
One question gnawed at him: Had Samwell Caesar deliberately led him to suspect Petyr Baelish and Lysa Tully?
But that boy couldn't even tell Lysa and Catelyn Tully apart—could he really be sharp enough to see through Littlefinger's schemes?
Still, the rumor Samwell had mentioned…
Suddenly, Oberyn rose, left his room, and found his steward.
"Go to Flea Bottom and ask around for any rumors about Petyr Baelish and Lady Lysa Tully."
"Yes, my lord."
---
"Who is it?"
The Hand of the King, Lord Eddard Stark, was just preparing to go to bed when he heard a knock at the door.
"Lord Hand, it's Varys."
Though he was puzzled as to why "the Spider" would visit so late, Eddard got up, put on his clothes, and opened the door.
"My apologies, Lord Eddard, for disturbing you at this hour."
"What is it?"
Varys stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Your wife, Lady Catelyn, has arrived in King's Landing."
"Catelyn? She's here in the capital?" Eddard was taken aback. "Why didn't I know?"
"She came in secret, but my little birds caught sight of her…"
"Where is she?"
"I've arranged for her to stay at Lord Petyr's residence."
"Petyr Baelish? Why him?"
Varys spread his hands apologetically. "My lord, your lady wanted to avoid drawing attention. I couldn't very well bring her to the Red Keep. And besides yourself, Petyr is the person she knows best in this city."
A flash of irritation crossed Eddard's face, but he finally said, "Very well. Take me to her."
---
"How long until Eddard arrives?" Catelyn asked in a cool tone.
Petyr Baelish looked at her with a complex expression. "Catelyn, after all these years, is there really nothing you want to say to me?"
"You should address me as Lady Stark," Catelyn corrected him.
"Very well, Lady Stark." Petyr sighed, seemingly wounded by her formal distance. "Why did you come to King's Landing so secretly?"
"As a wife, am I not allowed to come visit my husband?" Catelyn replied, evasively.
Petyr laughed. "Did you need to act like you were sneaking in to meet a lover?"
Catelyn shot him a sharp glare but said nothing.
Petyr sighed again, feigning hurt. "Catelyn, is there really nothing you'll confide in me anymore? We were like brother and sister at Riverrun."
His gray-green eyes met hers, and memories of childhood filled her with a pang of sadness.
As the foster son of Lord Tully, Petyr had grown up with her at Riverrun, and they had indeed once been as close as siblings.
But when she became betrothed to the eldest son of House Stark, her "brother" had gone mad, professing his love for her and challenging her fiancé to a duel. If she hadn't pleaded for him, Petyr might well have lost his life.
Catelyn would never forget that day. Her clever, playful "brother" had become a fool, charging into a duel he couldn't possibly win.
She softened slightly. "Petyr, I've always thought of you as a brother."
"In that case, dear sister, why have you come?" Petyr asked sincerely. "Tell me—perhaps I can help."
"Very well." Catelyn finally explained how her son Bran had fallen from the tower, his coma and eventual awakening, and the things he had said. She also shared her own suspicions.
Petyr listened intently, his gray-green eyes reflecting the faint light in the room. After a long silence, he finally spoke.
"You think it was Queen Cersei who pushed your son from the tower?"
"That's my suspicion," Catelyn admitted cautiously. "Though I don't understand why the queen would do such a thing."
"I may have a theory." Petyr's mouth twisted into a faint smile.
"What is it?"
"Perhaps your son accidentally saw something he shouldn't have." Petyr toyed with a quill in his hand. "Something like the queen… and her brother."
"The queen and the Kingslayer?" Catelyn hesitated, but understanding dawned on her face. "You're not suggesting…"
Petyr shrugged. "It's only a rumor I've heard. Our king has his share of liaisons, so it wouldn't be surprising if the queen sought her own pleasures, would it?"
"But they're siblings!"
"It's not unheard of. Aegon Targaryen married his own sisters."
Catelyn's eyes remained wide with shock, but as she thought it over, Petyr's theory began to make sense.
At that moment, a knock sounded at the door.
"Oh, my dear brother-in-law has arrived." Petyr whistled as he opened the door, revealing Lord Eddard Stark and Varys standing outside.
Eddard ignored Petyr, striding into the room to embrace his wife.
Peering over her husband's shoulder, Catelyn addressed Petyr, "Could you give us some privacy?"
"Very well. The room is yours—for now. Just don't do anything untoward in here; this is my study." He closed the door behind him as he left.
"Lord Varys," Petyr said quietly, turning to the eunuch with a smile. "Thank you. I owe you one for this."
"Think nothing of it," Varys replied in his soft, unctuous tone. "We're old friends, after all. A little mutual assistance is only natural."
"Indeed."
"Oh, by the way," Varys added, as if suddenly remembering, "there's something else you might find interesting."
"What is it?"
Varys leaned in, his tone secretive. "Prince Oberyn's lover left King's Landing yesterday."
"Ellaria Sand? Where did she go?"
"It appears she's headed to the Eyrie."
"The Eyrie?" Petyr's eyes narrowed, and he quickly asked, "Who's met with the Red Viper recently?"
Varys turned slightly, speaking softly into the shadows. "The three Tyrell siblings visited the Great Sept of Baelor recently to distribute alms."
"Tyrell!" Petyr muttered, gritting his teeth.
Varys allowed himself a small, enigmatic smile. "Well, it's late. I'll take my leave now. Good night, Lord Baelish."
Petyr watched as Varys walked a few steps away, then suddenly called out, "Why are you helping me with this, Varys?"
Varys turned back, a faint trace of nostalgia crossing his face. "Ah, perhaps I'm simply growing sentimental in my old age. I dislike seeing familiar faces disappear from my world."
With that, he turned and vanished into the darkness, leaving no opportunity for Petyr to respond.
---
Inside the study, Eddard listened to Catelyn's account, his expression shifting with each word.
"The queen?" he muttered, his brows knitted tightly. "But why would the queen try to kill Bran?"
"I suspect Bran saw something he shouldn't have while climbing."
"And what might that be?"
"I'm not sure, but just now, Petyr suggested that the queen might be involved… with her own brother."
Eddard was stunned by this revelation, and he recalled Cersei's cruel demands at the Trident, where she had pushed him to kill Lady the direwolf. Her malice toward him had always been clear, but now he wondered if it had even darker roots.
The more Eddard thought, the angrier he became. "I must speak with the king at once!"
"No, Eddard!" Catelyn stopped him. "We have no proof."
Eddard paused, regaining his composure. After a moment of thought, he turned to her. "Then I'll gather evidence of the queen's infidelity and present it to Robert. That way, I'll have avenged Bran."
"Be careful," Catelyn urged. "Even with evidence, you must tread carefully. The Lannisters won't surrender easily."
At her warning, Eddard felt a chill run down his spine.
He couldn't help but think of Lord Tywin Lannister's expressionless face and the words that echoed throughout the realm—
The Lannisters always pay their debts.
(End of Chapter)
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
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