TitoVillar
patreon
GOT Chapter 58: The Tower, the Bastard, and the Queen
🕑 Added 2025-08-06 03:32:25 +0000 UTCAfter mocking Jon’s reckless ambition, Kal turned and walked toward a nearby thicket.
Before Jon could even ask what he was doing, he saw Kal bend down and pick up the sword that Jon had dropped earlier in his panic.
“As a warrior, I can't imagine ever throwing away your weapon,” Kal said, his voice sharp with judgment.
“Seems you’ve already forgotten what I told you the day I gave you this sword… And until you realize what you've just done—you no longer have the right to carry it.”
His voice cut like steel, and Jon was struck with shame.
Kal looked down at the sword—once his own—and gently flicked the blade.
The longsword rang out with a crisp, eager note, as though excited for the blood it might soon taste.
Then Kal raised his eyes once more toward the tower and casually asked: “This tower doesn’t have any other exits, does it?”
“Because if we don’t move quickly, the harm done to your brother might really turn into an ‘accident.’”
“After all, accusing the queen and her brother isn’t exactly an easy thing to do.”
Jon, still holding Bran tightly, flushed with confusion as those words sank in.
“The queen?!”
He still couldn’t grasp what Kal meant.
Kal gave a cold snort.
“Who else do you think was up there?”
“Jon, someone once said it right—you know nothing…”
“Even if you've already completed the first ‘great milestone’ of becoming a man~!”
Kal teased the utterly bewildered bastard boy, though he clearly had no intention of explaining further.
After all, no amount of words could compare to witnessing it with one’s own eyes.
As he spoke, Kal let out a long breath—like a sigh—laced with something faintly complex.
But he simply shook his head, and his gaze regained clarity and resolve.
Gripping the longsword that still gleamed with cold light in his hand, Kal strode confidently toward a small door beneath the tower as Jon Snow silently watched him.
His tall figure disappeared into the darkness, leaving only a calm instruction behind: “Until you can lift your sword again—I expect you to protect your brother.”
“Don’t disappoint me, Jon Snow.”
...
At that very moment, atop the tower, the Kingslayer—who had just pulled his head back from the window—had a change of expression for the first time.
His face suddenly twisted into something unsightly, as if the man who had just pushed a child off a tower without hesitation had been someone else entirely.
When he first shoved Bran, Jaime hadn’t felt much of anything.
But immediately afterward, beneath the tower, amidst the sharp cries, he heard faint voices shouting from below—and that instantly caught his attention.
A jolt of unease ran through him, and he instinctively leaned out to take a look.
And just as he feared… things had gone terribly wrong.
“Damn it!” Jaime Lannister cursed.
“What’s wrong?”
Seeing her brother lean out the window and then suddenly pull back, his face twisted with panic, Cersei instinctively asked.
A beat behind, the queen herself also began to lean forward to see what was happening.
But before she could, Jaime grabbed her and yanked her away from the window.
“Don’t look. That little brat was caught—someone saved him…!” the Kingslayer said grimly. “And if I’m not mistaken, someone saw exactly what just happened.”
Those words made Cersei’s heart skip a beat. Her face changed instantly—contorting with fury, even verging on viciousness.
“Who?! I thought this cursed place was so remote that no one would ever come here?!”
“No—no, we have to kill him. We have to kill them. Not a single one can escape!”
“Not one! Not a single one!!!”
After the initial panic, the queen quickly realized what this could spiral into—and her voice rose, sharper and more venomous with every word.
Her expression twisted into something hideous with spite and dread.
But upon hearing her declaration, Jaime—who had taken a deep breath and was forcing himself to remain calm—only shook his head.
“It was Robert’s bastard… and Eddard’s bastard…” he said, looking at Cersei, his once-bright green eyes now heavy with dread.
But it would’ve been better if Jaime hadn’t said anything—because the moment he mentioned that it was the bastard, Cersei Lannister reacted as if a viper had just bitten her on the ass.
She completely lost it—jumping up and down like a madwoman, screaming like a fishwife.
“What…?! Kill them! We have to kill them! I want them dead—I want them to shut their mouths forever!”
“And that little bastard—the one who saw us!”
“They must be silenced! Jaime, I want you to kill him. You have to kill him!”
“Forget your damn knight’s honor—you must get rid of them!”
“Otherwise, we’ll be ruined! That wretched bastard will drag us both into damnation!”
Hearing Cersei shout like she’d lost her mind, the Kingslayer’s brow furrowed deeper.
He fell into silent thought, instinctively glancing back toward the window, as if he could somehow see through the solid stone and make out what was happening below the tower.
Then he took a long breath, staring up at the wooden ceiling as he slowly exhaled.
At that moment, the Kingslayer seemed to make his choice.
The fear and chaos in his eyes were gone. What remained was clarity.
Then he grabbed his lover’s shoulders and gave her a hard shake, snapping her out of her panicked frenzy.
“Listen to me, Cersei! Panic won’t help us now—we have to stay calm!” Jaime barked suddenly.
Cersei froze for a second, instinctively locking eyes with him.
“And the first thing you need to do right now…” Jaime continued, glancing down at her completely exposed body, the pupils in his eyes trembling slightly, “…is get dressed—and make sure this has nothing to do with you.”
The Kingslayer’s breath was heavy. His voice carried the weight of the moment.
“Listen—they didn’t see you. No one knows what happened. Everything… everything that happened was done by me alone.”
“Just me. Do you understand?”
“Do you understand what I mean?!”
Jaime calmed down quickly. While Cersei was still reeling in panic over what had just happened, he had already made up his mind.
“And what needs to be done next—I’ll do it. I’ll make sure the ones who need to shut their mouths stay shut. Forever.”
“Only then can we protect ourselves.”
Cersei, brought back to her senses by his shaking, grew quieter as she listened to Jaime Lannister’s words.
But at the same time, she realized exactly what he meant.
He intended to shoulder everything on his own.
To take the fall—and remove her from the equation.
“I—I understand… but Jaime…” Cersei swallowed hard, her voice still laced with fear as she tried to say something more.
But the Kingslayer didn’t give her the chance.
Instead, he shoved her clothes into her arms in a hurried mess, and pulled on a pair of trousers and a linen shirt himself without care for neatness.
Then, without hesitation, he turned to grab his gilded longsword, which had been leaning against the wall.
Yet as his fingers curled around its hilt, Jaime had never felt it weigh so heavily in his hand.
Not even the day he used it to slit a king’s throat.
Watching him, Cersei’s mind finally cleared, fully returning to her.
But faced with a lover so resolute, so determined, she could only weep as she heard his final, tender words.
“No, Jaime! I won’t accept this!”
“We can change everything—there has to be a way…”
The queen tried to pull him back from his sacrifice.
But all she received in return was the Kingslayer’s faint smile—and a gentle voice, calm and comforting. That smile, once as sharp as a blade, now held nothing but tenderness.
“Listen to me, Cersei, my love.”
“I’ll do what must be done. And what you must do—"
"—is leave this place… and make sure everyone believes…"
"…that you had nothing to do with what happened here.”
After giving Cersei her instructions, Jaime gazed at his lover with deep affection.
The queen, however, was sobbing silently, slumped on the floor with the bundle of clothes clutched to her chest.
Seeing her grief, Jaime could only close his eyes. Then, gripping his gilded sword, he turned to deal with what had to be done.
After all, only by permanently silencing everyone who knew the truth could Cersei be kept safe—only then could Joffrey and the others be spared.
This was the North. Stark territory. Even the king was here. Jaime knew all too well what it would mean if three children of the wolf and stag were to die at once in a place like this.
Since it had to be done, someone had to step forward.
And that someone could only be him.
All the secrets—they would die with him.
Having come to that realization, Jaime Lannister opened his eyes and forced himself to gather his strength. He turned, ready to leave.
But he had only just turned around when a figure, somehow already standing at the entrance, caught his eye—and his pupils instinctively contracted.
What he saw was a tall man clad in dark brown leather armor, with a heavy white cloak draped over his shoulders, standing silently at the top of the stairway, staring down at them.
The light didn’t reach this part of the tower. The man’s face was shrouded in shadow.
The only visible detail was a single hand emerging from the folds of the cloak—holding a long sword that gleamed with cold, silver light.
