Arya had seen Robert and Joffrey, but the man before her possessed a completely different aura. It wasn't the arrogance of a king or the flamboyance of an ordinary noble, but a sense of majesty, as if he were born to rule over all.
Viserys's gaze also fell upon Arya's face, scrutinizing her closely. Grey eyes, a long face, a stubborn chin... She truly was similar—similar to Lyanna, and similar to Eddard.
Kinvara's prophecy was correct; this was indeed the Little She-wolf of House Stark.
"Quickly, pay your respects to His Majesty, My Lady," Salador whispered a reminder from the side.
As he spoke, he began his own exaggerated bow. "Respected Majesty, your most loyal subordinate, Salladhor Saan, presents this special gift to you. We intercepted a suspicious vessel in the Narrow Sea and discovered this girl. She was traveling alone, carrying many Gold Dragons, and the ship came from King's Landing."
"You have done well, Salador. Go to the quartermaster to collect your reward; both you and your men shall receive what you deserve."
Salador was overjoyed and bowed repeatedly. "It is my honor to serve Your Majesty. Then, I shall not intrude further."
With that, he retreated from the hall, knowing that the words to follow were not necessarily for his ears.
After Salador left, only Viserys and Arya, standing in the center, remained in the hall.
"What is your name?" Viserys asked, his voice calm.
Arya bit her lip. She remembered her father's teachings: a Stark must be brave and honest. But she also remembered the lessons of King's Landing—sometimes telling the truth could get you killed.
"My name is Nymeria," she said, using the name of someone she admired.
The corner of Viserys's mouth curled upward. "That is a fine name, but you are not Nymeria. You are Arya Stark, the second daughter of Eddard Stark."
Arya's body stiffened for a moment. Finally, looking into the purple eyes that stared back at her, she slowly spoke and admitted, "How do you know who I am?"
"Your eyes and your appearance," Viserys spoke truthfully. "You bear a striking resemblance to your aunt, Lyanna."
This sentence caught Arya's attention. She had heard many stories about Aunt Lyanna, but hearing that name from the mouth of a Targaryen felt exceptionally strange.
"You knew her?"
"Not exactly 'knew' her, I only saw her a few times." Viserys stood up and walked over to Arya, looking down at her. "But she left quite an impression on me. After all, she was the Flower of the North who could make my brother Rhaegar fall so deeply for her."
"Just because your brother Rhaegar liked Lyanna, does that mean he could just kidnap her? Make her suffer all that pain?" Arya jutted out her stubborn little Horse-face, angry over Lyanna's fate and forgetting her own current situation.
"Believe it or not, they were truly in love. Otherwise, why would Lyanna have risked her life to give birth to Rhaegar's child?" Viserys decided to tell her some truths to completely settle this Little She-wolf.
"A child? My aunt had a child? Is he here? Can I see him?"
"Haven't you always been able to see him? Jon Snow is that child."
"What? Jon is the child of Aunt Lyanna and Rhaegar? How is that possible? Isn't he my father's bastard?" Arya was indeed shocked, but also somewhat skeptical.
"Lyanna was already pregnant when Rhaegar sent her to Dorne. Jon's age matches up, and do you really think your stiff-necked father would truly have a mistress?"
"No, he wouldn't. He loved Mother so much." Arya looked up; she was starting to believe Viserys's words.
"Your father, Eddard, was an honorable man, even if we were on opposite sides. I still regret his death. I feel that he, at the very least, should not have met his end in such a way. He should have died in the war against me; that would have been more fitting for his status."
"But Father has already been beheaded by Joffrey." At the mention of her father, Arya's eyes grew red again, but she forced herself not to let the tears fall. "So, what are you going to do with me now? Use me to blackmail Winterfell? Or lock me up?"
"If I wanted to do that, you would already be in a dungeon."
He reached out his hand. Arya instinctively wanted to retreat, but she held her ground; she could not back down. Viserys's hand directly grabbed her face and began to rub it—he had wanted to do this for a long time.
"I can give you two choices. First, stay in Valyria as a guest. You can live safely until you figure out what you want to do with your future. Second, if you want to return to the North, I can arrange a ship to send you back once the situation stabilizes slightly. However, you must convince your family to bend the knee and surrender to me when I launch my counter-invasion of Westeros."
Arya was stunned. She had envisioned many possibilities—imprisonment, execution, even worse things—but she had never expected such a lenient choice.
"Why?" Arya was puzzled. "Why help me? We should be enemies. You are a Targaryen, and my father fought for Robert."
"Because the cycle of hatred needs someone to break it. My father killed your grandfather and your uncle, and your father overthrew my family's rule."
Viserys continued, "Moreover, war is a matter for adults. In my eyes, you are just a child who lost her father and was forced to flee. A child should not have to pay the price for these things."
Arya looked up, her grey eyes staring directly at Viserys, trying to see something, but she only saw his sincerity.
"Fine, I'll stay."
"A wise choice." Viserys opened the door and gestured to the maidservants outside. "Take Lady Arya to a room to rest well. From today on, she is my guest. She may move freely within the castle, but she must be accompanied."
Before leaving the hall, she glanced back. Viserys had already sat back in his seat, looking at the documents on his desk, appearing very focused.
Perhaps this place really could become her safe haven.
After Arya was taken away, Margaery, who had been standing in a corner of the hall, stepped forward. "Your Majesty is truly merciful. However, won't keeping her by your side invite unnecessary trouble?"
"Trouble?" Viserys turned to look at her. "Miss Margaery, sometimes the most unlikely allies can bring the greatest surprises. House Stark is now at odds with the Lannisters, and the Lannisters are my enemies. The enemy of my enemy..."
"...is not necessarily a friend," Margaery interjected. "But at least we can cooperate."
Viserys nodded. "You are very clever. By the way, look after Arya for me. She has just experienced a great upheaval; perhaps you can help her adapt to this place."
"It would be my honor, Your Majesty." Margaery gave an elegant curtsy.
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