The broken bricks and stones from the abandoned watchtower were scattered across the ground of the old inner courtyard. Winterfell had seen a summer snow not long ago, and while most of it had melted, faint traces of white lingered on the rubble.

The risk of being struck by falling debris was the primary reason the castle’s residents rarely ventured into this part of Winterfell. Neglected for years, the courtyard was overgrown with weeds that reached from ankle to knee height, and a few scraggly shrubs struggled to grow amidst the ruins.

Aegor had spent considerable effort clearing the area so he could train there daily. He had painstakingly removed weeds and moved scattered bricks and stones out of the way.

His black Night’s Watch cloak served as both an unmistakable badge of identity and a kind of protective charm. The North held the Night’s Watch in high regard, and Benjen Stark’s act of bringing Aegor to Winterfell for a feast had cemented the image of him as the First Ranger’s trusted companion. This made it easier for Aegor to execute his plan. Though the castle servants were curious about why he chose such a desolate corner for practice, none objected, and some even offered assistance.

It wasn’t long before Aegor claimed the abandoned yard for himself—a small, neglected piece of Winterfell where he could train in peace.

He had considered sealing off the stairs leading to the First Keep with stones and debris to eliminate the problem at its source. However, as a mere guest, he ultimately lacked the authority to alter the Stark family’s castle and reluctantly abandoned the idea.

—

The king’s stay in Winterfell was nearing its end. Early this morning, Robert had led a hunting party into the Wolfwood west of Winterfell, hoping to bag a wild boar or bear to serve at the feast marking his last night in the North. The prince accompanied him, as did all the adult men of House Stark, including Robb. However, the queen had remained in Winterfell, and her brother Jaime had opted to stay behind as well, choosing to spend time with her rather than join the hunt.

For the Lannister siblings, this was the perfect opportunity for a private rendezvous.

For Aegor, it was a day of mounting tension. After watching Benjen depart with the hunting party, Aegor rushed to the yard he had claimed. He resolved to remain there until the hunting team returned, ensuring the Lannisters had no opportunity to meet in secret.

Of course, he couldn’t just sit idly by, so he began his usual sword training.

—

The sun climbed higher, and the temperature steadily rose. Aegor had already completed a set of cutting drills on the scarecrow and was transitioning to archery practice when an unexpected voice interrupted him.

“If I’m not mistaken,” a deep, magnetic male voice spoke from behind, its tone casual yet brimming with energy, “you’re the Night’s Watchman who crossed the Sunset Sea to Westeros, was caught by the Wall’s patrols, and supposedly killed a White Walker?”

Aegor turned, startled. “Your Grace—! Good morning. Yes, that’s me…”

Standing before him was Jaime Lannister, with Queen Cersei at his side. While Jaime acknowledged Aegor with a polite nod, Cersei barely spared him a glance, her expression cold and aloof. She clearly had no intention of conversing with someone she considered so far beneath her.

Aegor’s mind raced. Jaime and Tyrion were close brothers, so it wasn’t surprising that the Kingslayer had heard of Aegor’s supposed feats. But why would Jaime go out of his way to speak with him? And why had he brought the queen along? Aegor’s heart sank as he pieced it together: They’re scouting for a place to meet in secret.

While Aegor held no personal animosity toward Jaime, their positions were now at odds. Seeing the siblings together, he couldn’t help but curse them inwardly.

Though he cursed them in his thoughts, Aegor’s face betrayed none of it. Instead, he quickly adopted a look of humility and deference. Jaime might be manageable, but Cersei was another matter entirely. Unlike her brothers, she was vindictive, arrogant, and entirely capable of abusing her power. In a world as dangerous as this, one could not afford to offend someone like her, a person who would act without restraint or consequence.

“Your archery isn’t bad,” Jaime remarked, his eyes scanning the arrows embedded in the straw target. A mischievous grin spread across his face. “Hand me the bow.”

—

Back at the Wall, Aegor had once toyed with the idea of crafting dragonglass-tipped arrows from leftover shards after forging obsidian daggers. He’d hoped these “dragonglass arrows” might allow him to kill White Walkers from a distance.

But the plan was far from simple. Arrows, like ammunition in a modern army, were closely monitored by the Night’s Watch. Stored in the armory, they were issued only with strict documentation, and any unused arrows had to be returned. Losing even a single arrow outside of wartime came with harsh penalties. Unsurprisingly, soldiers were forbidden from modifying or tampering with them.

When his comrade Gary discovered Aegor tinkering with arrowheads, he had not only reprimanded him but also forbidden him from continuing. The reasoning was simple: if Aegor were caught, he’d face severe punishment. Unlike a dagger, which could be easily concealed, modified arrows were too conspicuous. Reluctantly, Aegor abandoned the project, which was why he’d been forced to rely on a dagger when facing the White Walkers.

Despite this setback, Aegor continued practicing archery. Encounters with White Walkers were rare, but wildlings were a constant threat. As someone who valued his life highly, Aegor naturally preferred long-range combat over the risks of close-quarters fighting. His dedication to archery meant his skills with a bow were far superior to his swordsmanship.

—

While Aegor’s skills were better than most Night’s Watchmen, they weren’t remarkable enough to warrant praise—or interest—from someone like Jaime Lannister, one of the finest warriors in the Seven Kingdoms.

What is this guy playing at?

Suspicious but compliant, Aegor handed over the bow.

Jaime accepted it, testing its weight and flexing the string with practiced ease. He selected an arrow, adjusted his stance, and took aim at the target.

This was the closest Aegor had ever been to the Lannister siblings. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but observe them. Jaime was tall and striking, his handsome face exuding an effortless confidence as he focused on the target. Beside him, Cersei’s figure was as elegant as it was alluring, her cold beauty undiminished even by the impatient scowl on her face. Though a mother of three, she retained the air of a woman in her prime. In any world whether Westeros or Aegor’s own, these two would have been regarded as stunningly attractive, the kind of people whose appearance alone could turn heads.

Their beauty, however, did nothing to excuse their relationship.

—

The first arrow flew with a dull thud, striking the target only a few inches from the center. The arrow’s shaft quivered as it came to rest.

Not bad.

From a soldier’s perspective, Aegor had to admit Jaime’s technique was impeccable. Every movement, from drawing the bow to releasing the string, had been executed with seamless precision. Judging by his composed demeanor, Jaime hadn’t even exerted himself fully. His skill and strength were clearly worthy of a Kingsguard.

Jaime, however, seemed dissatisfied. Muttering under his breath, he nocked a second arrow. This one struck dead center, landing right next to the arrow Aegor had shot earlier during his practice.

“Tsk,” Jaime clicked his tongue in mock frustration. Without hesitation, he reached for a third arrow.

“How long are you planning to stand here shooting arrows?” Cersei’s voice was icy, cutting through the moment. “Surely Casterly Rock’s training grounds are big enough, or has the White Sword Tower run out of bows?”

“Heh. My apologies, dear sister,” Jaime replied with a shrug, turning to flash her an insincere smile. “One more, I promise.”

With that, he loosed the third arrow. This time, it struck the very center of the target, splitting the wooden pole beneath the cloth covering.

“Not bad.” Jaime handed the bow back to Aegor with a playful grin. “Keep practicing, Night’s Watchman. Knowing there are skilled men like you guarding the realm makes it easier for me to sleep at night.”

“It’s my duty,” Aegor replied stiffly, choosing his words carefully. After a brief pause, he added a polite compliment: “Your Excellency’s archery is excellent.”

Though Jaime’s skill far outstripped his own, Aegor had no interest in evaluating or befriending the Kingslayer. What he wanted was for these two to leave his carefully-occupied yard and find somewhere else for their schemes.

But instead, Jaime’s gaze drifted toward the ruined tower.

“What’s wrong with that tower?” he asked, his tone casual but curious. “Why does it look so dilapidated and neglected?”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep