Ser Willem hesitated for a long moment, his gaze drifting toward the direction of the mansion.

He looked up at the towering man and the massive wolf standing before him, realizing with a sinking feeling that if they harbored any ill intent, he would be powerless to stop them even if he were still in the prime of his youth.

The cold thought flickered through his mind that he might have been far too reckless in his frantic search for the black wolf.

Unbeknownst to the old knight, the longer he stared into the dark eye sockets of Skoll’s helmet, the more the Custodian delved into the recesses of his mind.

Skoll was peeling back the layers of the man’s history, learning details about the knight’s life that Willem himself had long since forgotten.

“I know where you live, and I have no reason in the world to harm those you protect,” Skoll said with an easy, nonchalant shrug.

He had glimpsed the silver coin in Ser Willem’s memories and deduced it must have originated from Nightshade.

Had it been otherwise, the Custodian would have vanished back into the shadows long ago with how much time the knight was wasting by just staring at him.

“Wha—” The old knight began to stammer, but Skoll cut him off before he could find his voice.

“Look, you could simply take me to the woman you mentioned and I will do my best to cure her. Or, you can continue to gape at me until I grow bored and leave,” Skoll said, his tone urging the man to reach a final decision.

“If it helps, I am Ra’s brother.” He added, having glimpsed Ra in Ser Willem’s memories.

Beside him, the great wolf began to groom himself, seemingly indifferent to the tension.

In the knight’s eyes, the mention of Ra made all the difference.

He had known of the man and his formidable reputation for years; he had even caught a glimpse of the warrior once in the past.

Willem gritted his teeth and gave a stiff nod before turning to lead the way toward the mansion without another word.

He exited the narrow alley and entered the more populated streets, glancing back only to find that the man and the wolf were nowhere to be seen.

The street behind him was empty.

“Keep moving,” a voice resonated inside his head, sounding as if it were rising directly from his own shadow.

The old knight gulped and forced his legs to move, his steps becoming more firm despite his racing heart.

Upon entering the mansion, he avoided the children entirely.

He moved straight toward the chambers of Rhaella Targaryen, barking orders at the servants to vacate the corridor and stay away from the Queen’s room until he specifically gave them leave to return.

He entered the room and pulled the door shut, leaning against it as he let out a jagged breath.

“Interesting,” Skoll’s voice drifted from the corner of the room.

Willem jolted in surprise as the towering man materialized from the gloom and moved toward the bed where the Queen lay.

“Well, this coin is certainly from Nightshade,” the Custodian mentioned, his gaze falling upon the silver piece clutched tightly in Rhaella’s weakened hands.

“That is the reason I sought you out,” Ser Willem admitted, sinking into a nearby chair as if the last of his energy had finally drained from his bones.

Skoll removed his heavy gauntlets and placed a bare hand upon the woman’s brow.

His palm glowed with a soft, pulsing light for a brief moment as he closed his eyes.

“This…” Skoll whispered, his voice darkening. “How cruel.”

He shook his head in slow disgust.

He had discerned the true extent of Rhaella’s injuries, seeing far beyond the complications of Daenerys’s birth to the jagged scars of the soul left by years of torment.

“What do you mean? Was she poisoned?” Ser Willem asked, his brow furrowing with a heavy frown.

“No. But she has suffered… for a very long time,” Skoll answered.

He reached into his pouch and withdrew a handful of herbs and began to prepare a concentrated broth over a small, magically conjured flame right there in the bedroom.

“Y-yes. I wish I could have been in a position to truly help her,” Ser Willem said, his voice cracking with a visible shudder.

His eyes turned to the floor in shame.

As the former Master-at-Arms of the Red Keep, Aerys’s systemic abuse of Rhaella had been an open secret he was forced to witness in silence.

“Will you be able to help her?” the knight asked after a long silence.

Skoll continued to stir the broth while Hati sat motionless beside Rhaella’s bed like a silent guardian.

“Not completely. The coin that has kept her alive all this time does not possess healing magic. It is a magical beacon. When used correctly, it sends a distress signal to Nightshade Island. It has only sustained her by providing a trickle of magical energy that her body is using instinctively because of her own heritage,” Skoll explained.

“Well, is there any way to heal her completely, then?” Willem asked, ignoring everything except the first two words Skoll had spoken.

“Yes, but she will have to be taken to Nightshade for that,” Skoll replied after a moment of consideration.

What Skoll chose not to tell the old knight was that Rhaella’s own latent magic had curdled into a curse due to the constant trauma she had endured.

Or maybe she was cursed by a very powerful entity, Skoll was not completely certain but she did have a powerful curse on her, originating from her trauma.

She required a healing of the soul just as much as a healing of the flesh.

The latter he could provide, but the former was a delicate art he was not confident in performing.

During his training, Skoll had focused almost entirely on the arts of shadow and fire, influenced heavily by his wolf companion, and had neglected other forms of magic and was only acceptable at them.

“There is no way we can make that journey without passing through the Seven Kingdoms. If we do that, we might as well hand ourselves over to the Usurper,” the old knight muttered bitterly.

“Well, I happen to have a far more convenient method of travel. First, I will do what I can here. When you are ready, just say the word and I will ensure you reach Nightshade,” Skoll said.

He moved to the bed and gently pried the woman’s mouth open to administer the broth.

“What are you doing? She might choke!” Ser Willem exclaimed, standing up in alarm.

He had never seen anyone attempt to pour liquid medicine down the throat of an unconscious person.

“It will be fine,” Skoll reassured him.

He placed a hand on the Queen’s neck, his skin glowing with a warm red hue as he tilted the bowl.

The old knight stood hovering over Skoll’s shoulder in a state of high anxiety until he saw Rhaella’s throat move in a steady in a rhythmic swallowing motion.

He sighed in relief and shot Skoll a reproachful look.

This man had nearly caused his heart to stop a hundred times in a single day.

Skoll stepped back once the medicine was finished and gestured toward the door.

Willem nodded, leading him and Hati out of the chambers.

“Thank you,” Willem said with genuine gratitude, even though the full results of the remedy were yet to be seen.

“Only one family in Nightshade has the authority to bestow a coin such as that. As long as she holds it, she is under my protection, and I will do everything in my power to assist her,” Skoll said, resting a hand on Hati’s head.

“I will see you on the morrow.”

Ser Willem saw only a flash of darkness for a fleeting second.

When his vision cleared, the man and the wolf had vanished into thin air.

The knight stood alone in the hallway for a moment before heaving a heavy sigh and straightening his back.

He moved to check on the children, his pace steadier than it had been in years.

“Stay in the Queen’s room and tend to her. Inform me the very moment she wakes,” he instructed a female servant.

The woman bowed low and moved to obey without a word.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep