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"Varys?" Cole muttered repeatedly, then cast a careful glance at the king's spymaster.
They called him the Spider, with his heavy scent of powder, fine silk clothes, and that humble smile perpetually fixed on his face.
"Hello, my lord," Cole responded to his greeting.
Varys nodded gently. "Please, call me by my name, my lord. Forgive my interruption. If you seek directions, no one knows this castle better than I do. After all, I have served here since the reign of King Aerys."
"That's truly a long time. Perhaps you should journey to the Citadel to compile the kingdom's history, my lord."
"Meow~"
A one-eared black cat darted from the corridor, disrupting their conversation. It rushed past them with an air of dominance.
Both men couldn't help but follow the cat with their eyes. The eunuch spoke softly, "This is an old friend. I've never been certain of its whereabouts. I didn't expect to find it here."
"Is there anything you don't know?"
"Except for the gods in heaven, no one can know everything," the eunuch replied with a light smile. "That was Princess Rhaenys' cat from the previous dynasty. She was a lovely little child, as beautiful as her mother. She always carried her black cat around. She named it 'Balerion,' though there is quite a difference between a black cat and a black dragon, my lord."
"I heard that Amory Lorch dragged her out from under her bed and stabbed her with 'fifty knives' — quite a precise number." His tone grew cold. "How many times can one stab a four-year-old child, Lord Steward?"
"A cruel question indeed." Varys looked helpless. "But sometimes a cup of milk of the poppy might ease an old man's pain better than a knife."
Cole felt as though Varys had seen through his thoughts.
"I heard you were raised by the Night's Watch, my lord," the eunuch inquired.
"Yes, I grew up on the Wall."
"At the beginning, Aegon the Fifth sent two hundred honor guards to escort his brother, along with his Kingsguard, Ser Duncan." Varys sighed. "The Wall has sent ravens, and the Night's Watch has sent envoys, but the kingdom's resources can hardly stretch to care for the North. Ser Alliser Thorne once came to King's Landing with a wight's hand. Though Lord Tyrion mocked him, he still allowed him to take some men back."
"Are you speaking of Maester Aemon?" It was hard to imagine how the maester must have felt upon receiving such news. How deeply he loved children and his family.
The eunuch nodded. "When Prince Rhaegar lived in the Red Keep, he often sent ravens to the Wall. He seemed to share a close bond with our maester."
"Why do you tell me these things, my lord?" Cole looked at him, puzzled.
Varys smiled mysteriously, then sighed sadly. "When people grow old, they tend to fall into memories. Where are you headed? My lord, please allow me to escort you."
He led the way, engaging in polite conversation from time to time.
At the corner of the Maidenvault, Cole returned to the quarters arranged for him.
"Thank you," Cole said gratefully.
The eunuch hid his hands in his sleeves. "It's an honor to serve you, my dear lord."
He seemed to suddenly remember something and retrieved a note from his sleeve. "My lord, someone left something for you at a blacksmith's shop on the Street of Steel. Perhaps you might find time to retrieve it."
Cole took the note, and Varys walked away quietly, leaving only his silhouette.
The Spider—Varys.
He commanded a network of "little birds," and possessed the most detailed intelligence in the Seven Kingdoms. Nothing in the Red Keep could remain hidden from him.
He was an exceedingly complex man, and his true desires were difficult to discern.
Unlike Petyr Baelish, the man they called Littlefinger, Varys showed no obvious hunger for power or status. His allegiances remained vague.
Dangerous. He was very dangerous.
Cole didn't understand why Varys had approached him, but there must be a reason.
He examined the note in his hand—a simple map.
"Lord Snow." Ser Davos came to greet him.
Cole tucked away the note and walked into the palace guesthouse.
The cobblestone path led to the guest quarters. His gift had been placed in a small inner courtyard. He passed through the oak door of the yard. There was a small flower bed in the front, and a pomegranate tree. Two guards stood watch at the door. A flag bearing a flaming white bird hung before the entrance.
"Lord Cole," the guard greeted him.
Cole nodded and walked through the doorway. Only two knights had accompanied him. Because relations between his camp and King's Landing remained tense, he hadn't ventured out much, preferring to drink idly in the yard.
"My lord, you've returned." Ser Devan stood up. He was one of the knights who had traveled with Jon.
"Don't you wish to explore? Surely you must have acquaintances here," Cole sat down and gestured for Ser Davos to join him.
Devan shook his head. He had no desire to associate with those he considered traitors.
Cole picked up the wine jug and poured himself a cup.
"You seem familiar with the Imp, Tyrion Lannister, my lord," Devan remarked.
"We met at the Wall when Robert Baratheon was still king. He followed Robert north to Winterfell, and then visited the Wall. I journeyed south with him, but we parted ways for various reasons."
"They say it was the Imp's fire and chains that led to our defeat," Devan whispered, finally uttering the word "Imp."
Cole nodded. Tyrion's strategy had indeed struck a devastating blow to Stannis's army. He had bought precious time for Tywin Lannister's reinforcements to reach the battlefield, nearly cutting off Stannis's retreat.
Cole was usually not one to get drunk easily, but he felt somewhat intoxicated now. He couldn't recall how much he had drunk with Tyrion earlier, judging by his clouded mind.
After drinking with Devan for a while longer, he retired to his chamber to rest.
A large bed with feather mattress and silk blankets awaited him.
At midnight, he felt something furry at his feet.
Cole jolted awake, reaching for the sword beside his bed.
A pair of green eyes stared back at him.
His breathing quickened, and moonlight illuminated his face. Beads of sweat on his forehead glistened like gemstones against his silver hair.
"Meow~"
A cat's cry broke the silence.
In the moonlight, he could now make out the one-eared black cat—the same one that had darted past him and Varys in the castle corridor.
Those cold eyes regarded him as the cat walked slowly from the edge of the bed.
The black cat approached his pillow, then curled up beside it.
Cole set down his sword. It was just a cat, after all.
"Are you Balerion?" For some reason, he found himself talking to the cat.
The black cat looked up at him.
It was not cute by any measure, with its broken ear and scarred face.
For reasons he couldn't explain, Jon's heart suddenly tightened, and he felt a pang of sadness.
"It's not easy to survive in such a large castle, is it?" He reached out and gently stroked its head.