Chapter 139

Queen of the North! The soldiers set down their cups and utensils, staggered to their feet, some hastily swallowing their food before joining the shout.

Queen of the North! In a moment the shout echoed through the hall.

Mei Yi quickly turned and returned to her seat, sitting upright on the throne.

The regretful guest's hand was pinned to the table by the dinner knife, his other hand already broken by Mei Yi; he lay sprawled on the table, breathing hard, enduring the pain.

His blood had soaked the table, seeping through the gaps in the plates; Molly stood beside her, hesitating, unsure whether to step forward and clear the table.

The other maids stood frozen, terrified, staring at the man in maid's attire—sweat dampened the makeup on his face, revealing his true features; though he looked like a woman, he was unmistakably a man.

Mei Yi clenched her fist; blood seeped from her palm, she could not discern its color, clearly no longer bright red.

She felt her heart racing, breathing grew slightly difficult, her head a little dizzy, but none of it fazed her.

The needle bore the venom of the lion‑bodied scorpion‑tailed beast; she knew how to treat it. She had encountered this poison even at her coronation.

Blood kept dripping from her palm; only when Molly handed her a towel did she loosen her grip, take the towel, and wipe away the tainted blood.

Mei Yi seized the golden hand on the table with her left hand and slammed it down hard on the table—"bang bang bang!"—the plates and dishes leapt together.

The table's vibration made the regretful guest feel more pain, sobbing as he endured it.

"Robb, while in the south, won the lords' support, was crowned King of the North, and donned the bronze crown; though he ultimately failed, at that time he held the whole North and the entire Riverlands." Mei Yi endured her dizziness, "But what do we have now? Only half the North, and countless enemies."

She threw cold water on the soldiers. Perhaps the soldiers would support her, but she felt that to truly become queen, the necessary support would forever come from the lords of the realm, not the soldiers.

Perhaps both are needed, but she cannot be crowned without the proper lords present.

"Before I purge the traitors, I will never touch Robb's crown." She spoke loudly, feeling her dizziness ease a little, then rose again, "You have merely won a trifling victory in the south; to place a queen on the throne, you must strive far harder!"

The regretful guest before her stared in shock, but Mei Yi ignored him; the lion‑bodied scorpion‑tailed beast's poison is not without cure.

He is a dead man of the Regretful Guest organization; whether his mission succeeds or fails, he cannot return alive. Since he has this resolve, saying anything to him is pointless.

Weakness made her angry and helpless; she felt she had to end things early.

"Tonight I will say only one last thing: after the feast ends, you must all consider how your lives ought to be spent—follow the destined great lord, or hide in the woods with that paltry gain from the south, awaiting beheading by enemies or freezing to death." Mei Yi drew the knife etched into the wooden table, seized the regretful guest's head, dragged him before the crowd, and slit his throat, "or be slashed by enemies, fall to the ground struggling, and be devoured by beasts."

At that moment the fuzzy dog darted from behind the throne, slowly approached the twitching body of the regretful guest, lowered its huge head, and tore at his face.

Mei Yi snatched the red fox‑fur cloak from her seat, draped it over her shoulders, and swiftly crossed the hall. The soldiers inside watched her, noting her stern expression as she passed the cluttered long table of cups and plates; she also turned her gaze to those she walked by.

The soldiers pushed open the main hall door for Mei Yi, leaving a modest gap. She walked alone into the dark night; the lights cast her shadow outward, covering the whole courtyard.

On the second day she finally fully recovered from the poison and confirmed that the lingering dark magic in the lion‑bodied scorpion‑tailed beast's venom had been purged.

Early that morning she donned her battle attire, went to the training grounds of Winterfell, and had Sasha rouse the sleep‑loving youths for morning drill.

This too was a reluctant move; many had seen her injured the night before, and she could not let her subordinates doubt her health.

The youths gathered beside the training field, listening to her instructional words, which were no different from those taught by Instructor Hu Ban and Ser Rodrik.

Some soldiers rose early, lingered a while by the training field, then laughed and departed, taking their horses from the nearby stables; they were knights heading home from Winterfell.

After she had felled Beron Torrhen to the ground, Ser Rodrik, clad in armor and stroking his sword, walked toward her.

"Care to spar, ser?" Mei Yi called to him.

"Seeing you unharmed puts my mind at ease." He showed no inclination to draw his sword, "I can today at noon lead a hundred horsemen north. Brother Chaille has already sent ravens to the families along the way; if all goes well, by the time I reach the Wall I will have gathered over four hundred cavalry."

Mei Yi nodded. The Wall is perilous; the sooner we depart the better. Having arranged things to this extent, she is satisfied.

"Brother Chaille received a reply from Lord Whent; according to it, the White Harbor cavalry—about six or seven hundred—will arrive this afternoon. Perhaps some will wish to join me for the Wall, but I need not wait in Winterfell; they can catch up on the road. I have no assurance that any of them will choose to come with me to the Wall."

Mei Yi could not fathom his meaning.

"The commanders are Ser Marlon Mandrake and Ser Corbray Mandrake. Both are captives you rescued in the south; I believe, Your Grace, if you request it, they will gladly send at least a hundred horsemen to ride north with you."

"I will ask for their aid; you can rest assured."

Ser Rodrik frowned, "If you command, he could spare even more horsemen to go north together."

Now it was Mei Yi's turn to curl her lip.

"Go ahead, I promise five hundred horsemen will not fall short." Mei Yi leaned on her wooden sword, gazing at Rodrik, "Ser, though saying this is rude: I have read Qiongen's letter to Winterfell, and I find his judgment of the wildlings sound, with nothing blatantly amiss; moreover, considering he once 'joined' the King-beyond-the-Wall's host, he clearly knows the wildlings better and more deeply, so I think, if military maneuvers require it, I would like you to act on his advice."

Ser Rodrik widened his eyes at Mei Yi.

"I say this not because he is my brother," Qiongen, steady as Eddard and sharp as a maester, "but because I know he is not a frivolous, flighty person."

"Your Grace, I certainly know what sort of man he is; I have trained him since childhood," Ser Rodrik's white beard trembled, his face flushed, whether from shame or indignation I cannot tell, "As you wish, I will give him my full support. Of course, I will also strive to protect him."

Having spoken, he turned and left at once, cutting off whatever Mei Yi still wanted to say.

In the afternoon, riders trickled out or gathered in groups from Winterfell, some slipping east into the rocky hills, some west into dense forests, others mounting the kingsroad and heading north.

Mei Yi stood on the battlements, gazing at the regretful guest hanging there. Before he was strung up, Theon's head had also once looked south from this very spot.

"Your Grace, the levy writ has been sent throughout the realm," Brother Chaille caught up to the battlements, likewise watching the departing riders, "Besides your own retinue, the riders who left this morning already number over four hundred. Following your wishes, we have stocked the supplies they might need at the Avoid‑Winter market, so the soldiers' procurement is proceeding more smoothly than expected."

"Perhaps what they wish to buy can be had near their homes; they even refuse to spend another night in Winterfell, showing how eager they are to return home."

"Your Grace, perhaps it is that the maidens of the Avoid‑Winter market are disappointing, unlike Fanny, Rose, Daisy, and Megan from the manor." Brother Chaille tucked away his smile, "Your Grace, I believe most of them will return home, lay down their gold, and then come back."

"If only I had your confidence," Mei Yi gazed toward the distance, where white snow piled beside the road and tree roots, and the road lay bare, revealing black muck.

The thawed ground is no good for riding; the proper times are evening and dawn.

"These soldiers merely followed Your Grace south on a trip—heehee, the whole round‑trip takes only four months—and they have already reaped countless treasures and gold; how could they possibly give up a greater chance of gain?"

"Brother, are you mistaken? The later fighting offers no chance to loot treasure or gold." Moreover, not everyone returns laden; there are those who died in the south. Mei Yi still keeps the spoils belonging to the dead.

These spoils, together with the roster, are sealed away in Winterfell's storeroom.

"Your Grace, I don't think I'm wrong. Though the south has gold and jewels, it lacks castles, farms, and lands suited to them; they are northerners, and what suits them forever is the north. Compared to the north's castles and lands, the trifling gold the south yields amounts to nothing."

Mei Yi could not help glancing at the brother; he always finds an angle she never considered.

"Really? They won't be satisfied with southern spoils? Continuing to fight means death, and not everyone can obtain a keep."

Mei Yi also began to wonder; she has never been an ordinary north‑lander and does not know what ordinary north‑folk think.

"The soldiers may not grasp the meaning of your last words at the feast, but they understand that gold and pelts cannot substitute for safety; armor and warhorses cannot ward off winter. In short, they will weigh your true worth." Brother Chaille pursed his lips and smiled, "By the Seven, Your Grace, I believe there is no goal in the North heavier than you."

Mei Yi smiled.

"Thank you for clearing my doubts, brother. Would you truly not consider leaving the cloth to become, well, the Queen's Hand?" Mei Yi looked at Brother Chaille and laughed, "A legendary queen deserves a legendary hand; I can think of nothing more legendary than a renounced cleric as a king's hand. You have read the histories; surely Westeros has never seen such a person, has it?"

I don't understand.

"If I were queen, the first thing I would absolutely not do is make a crown for myself, but rather make a hand-shaped badge." Mei Yi reached out and patted his chest, "Hang it here."

The cultivator looked at Mei Yi, slowly bent down and performed a salute toward her.

"Whooo..." The soldiers on the city wall blew the horn.

On the King's Avenue appeared a large contingent of cavalry holding mermaid flags, marching toward Winterfell.

"Just a few hundred cavalry slipped away, and now even more have come, Your Highness, how do you plan to make use of them?"

"Stark's plan to seize Winterfell may be foolish, but the action itself is bold and full of imagination." Mei Yi looked at the corpses swaying slightly in the cold wind, "I intend to lead the warriors after nightfall along the path Stark chose, heading for Long Creek Fortress, striving to arrive before dawn, and then take the fortress in one fell swoop."

"How many people are you planning to bring?"

"Stark only brought over sixty. I think it's not that he's brave enough, but because he fears exposure; I will set out at night with the furry dogs leading the way," and the eagle, "so you don't need to worry about that, thus I can confidently bring two hundred warriors."

Chael cultivator remained silent, looking somewhat worried.

"Is two hundred too few? If we fail to take the fortress smoothly, we could be surrounded on the plains of the Streams, which is too risky."

If she lacks visibility, that would be dangerous; if she has it, the worst outcome is merely returning empty-handed and alerting the enemy.

"The cavalry of White Harbor will rest in Winterfell tonight, and at dawn tomorrow they will set out for Borderlin Town. When they arrive, I need them to receive news of my success or failure to decide the next step. If successful, they can cut off the reinforcements of Golden Horse Village along Long Creek Lake, securing a retreat for the warriors, and then they can go south along Long Lake to crush any reinforcements still harboring hopes for Long Creek City."

"Borderlin Town has a major road leading to Long Creek City... This is military strategy; aren't you going to discuss it with the council members?"

"They will agree; I don't need to worry."

"Are you worried about me?"

Mei Yi nodded and then shook her head.

"The strategy of the Streams is to resolve the Grave Mound Village and let it be completely divided. I have a question: if Long Creek City is lost, what is the most likely action of Lady Dustin?"

"I guess it's to muster the forces of Grave Mound Village and retake Long Creek City."

"She can't muster them; she will guess that my attack on Long Creek City has few people, so she will quickly take her existing forces out to try to retake it."

"Leaving aside how she would retake it, at this point, if Grave Mound Village receives your appointment, Your Highness, the viscounts and lords of Grave Mound Village can choose whether to completely break free from Lady Dustin and choose the heir you have selected for them."

"Not bad."

"Your Highness, what do you need me to do here?"

"I hope that after the three heirs receive the appointment letters, they can arrive simultaneously at the castles I have arranged for them. Considering their locations and the castles they must go to, the timing of the appointment notices needs to differ. Lanohisto is at Fireburn Castle, not far nor near; Peerswater is exactly at Ancestral Castle, the nearest; while the Fisher family is at White Stone Hall on the Rocky Coast, the farthest."

"This is truly difficult."

"Although difficult, if it goes smoothly like this, there will be far fewer changes, and Grave Mound Village will also have to be divided into three parts. I don't want any of these three to become a warlord—although Lady Dustin is opposed, fortunately she isn't that troublesome."