Chapter 158: Blind Beth

When the moon hung on the chimney again, she pushed Talia away, slid out of the bedding, wrapped herself in the short robe belonging to Cat, then climbed through the skylight belonging to Brusco, and ascended to the roof.

The orange moonlight shone on the dark roof. Several cats stopped their movements and looked at her blankly with their heads hooked.

I am also a cat, she said to the cats, then crossed the roof and the veranda, jumped over several low buildings, and jumped onto the cold stone slab from a dilapidated wall.

Cold breezes blew from the sea, bringing waves of dumb gray mist. She pulled her robe tight, curled up inside, and slowly disappeared into the thick fog along the bluestone path by the water.

"He deserves to die." She thought. He shouldn't have mentioned Winterfell in front of Cat, nor should he have mentioned Roose Bolton. Cat didn't like to listen.

When she returned to the House of Black and White, the moon had turned its direction, slowly disappearing behind the rocky hill, leaving only mottled barren stones and pupils of black shadows, like mountain ghosts swimming.

You can't scare me. She smoothed her hair, dried her braids dampened by the moisture, plunged into the black shadow at the foot of the mountain, and slipped into the temple from the side door.

There were not many candles lit in the temple, emitting dim yellow light. Unlike the moonlight outside, they emitted odors and were more unstable. After seeing her arrival, they couldn't help but jump. Under their light, the surrounding statues seemed to be whispering lowly, and each one looked like the Stranger.

She didn't pay attention to them.

She went to the cellar to change out of Cat's clothes, took a bath, threw away Cat's scent, threw away the blood smell that had been lingering on her body, then climbed into the black robe belonging to the servant, put on soft slippers, and then found the eel pie left for her by the cook Uma in the kitchen. After solving dinner, she washed the tray and began her temple tasks or studies.

Learning was simple.

According to her understanding, going to Brusco's, her purpose was to learn language. She had to sell the seafood Brusco gave her, so she had to constantly talk to people, talk to sailors, captains, prostitutes, madams, swordsmen, assassins, and other travelers coming and going. So far, her study of this subject was not bad.

But she didn't want to learn these. Her purpose in coming to the East Coast instead of returning to Winterfell was to learn the arcane art of changing faces, striving to catch up with Mei's footsteps, so that she wouldn't think she was just a perverse little sister.

Sansa could easily obtain anyone's liking by relying on her own beauty, especially the liking of boys. She could use this to achieve her goal, but she couldn't. She had to rely on other methods.

As long as she could learn to change faces, she could sneak into Bolton's castle and kill Bolton too, reducing the bloodshed in the North, couldn't she? Bolton betrayed the Starks, and she had a reason to kill.

However, she couldn't kill him as a Faceless Man. Faceless Men never take action against people they know.

That was a matter for later. She still couldn't learn to change faces now. The Kindly Man said she hadn't learned to serve, didn't understand the way of humility, and wasn't qualified to enjoy the glory of the Many-Faced God.

It didn't matter. Sooner or later she would learn. This was just a course that hadn't been opened to her yet.

Apart from language, she could also learn to understand various poisons, lying, and identifying it.

Lying was a girl's talent, but her talent in this aspect was clearly not very high. As long as she lied, the Waif could identify it immediately, let alone the Kindly Man.

If Sansa came to learn, she would surely pass on the first day. She was a natural queen of lies. If it weren't for promising her father not to hate her... The lady ultimately died because of her own recklessness, not because of Sansa. Thinking of this made her feel a bit discouraged.

"Arya of Winterfell always likes to purse her lips." The Waif said to her. "You cannot become one of us."

I don't want to become one of you at all. I just want to learn to change faces.

The Waif was already in her thirties, but she looked only in her teens, even younger than Arya, which was truly strange. The Waif attributed this to poison.

She fiddled with countless kinds of poison, liking to constantly repeat the name of each poison in front of her, as well as their precautions and methods of use.

Arya remembered several kinds like sweet sleep flower, Tears of Lys, and basilisk venom, including their Braavosi names. According to the Waif's introduction, each poison had different uses, and, suitable for different occasions, and mastering this information proficiently would help achieve the goal of the Many-Faced God.

Poison was the weapon of cowards and women. She remembered her father had said so. She forgot where and in what situation she heard it, anyway, it came from the mouth of Eddard Stark.

Although she wasn't a coward, she was a woman. If she wanted to snipe a monster like the Mountain, it was better to use poison. She thought she had learned it diligently, but after the Waif repeated it so many times, she still constantly made mistakes, occasionally being burned by poison, occasionally getting sick from inhaling too much.

"Not only must your eyes remember them, but your nose and other senses other than your nose must also remember them," the Waif reminded her. Being reminded by a girl who looked younger was incredibly strange, but the Waif was more familiar with this place and had been here longer than her; she could only express obedience. "Otherwise you will never reach their requirements."

Whose requirements? She didn't care. She didn't even know if the House of Black and White was really willing to teach her the secret of changing faces. She had the experience, which was one thing, but changing into another face anytime and anywhere was another thing.

Perhaps I should return to the North to find Mei. By her side, perhaps I could learn more, and...

Thinking of this, she felt a bit sad.

Perhaps Mei would think she was already dead. She wanted to send news back to the North, but how should she send it? One day she saw a merchant ship flying the mermaid flag docked at the Ragman's Harbor. She wanted to go closer to see if the captain was someone she knew, but she was wearing Cat's face and couldn't get close at all. And what should she say?

She wasn't sure if House Manderly had also leaned toward Bolton. If so, her letting the captain bring a letter would be no different from throwing herself into the net. Not only would it not help Mei, but it would also bring her some trouble. What's more, she only knew a few people in House Manderly, among them the fat Ser Wylis Manderly, and the even fatter Lord Wyman.

She had seen the two Manderlys visiting Winterfell, but they clearly cared more about the youthful and beautiful Sansa and the strong and confident Robb. She had heard her mother say that she was completely different from her brother and sister when she was young—she didn't count Jon in—simply as weak as a monkey. Although she was small, she was as flexible as a monkey.

She was glad this sentence hadn't been heard by Jeyne and Sansa, otherwise, she would have one more nickname. She wasn't sure if Horseface Ugly or Monkeyface was uglier.

She had seen a theater troupe that came to perform in the North in Winterfell. There was also a weak monkey in the circus, its neck was put in an iron chain, and it completed various movements according to people's instructions, incredibly smart. Sometimes Arya worried that actually that monkey was also a person, just not coincidentally, looking like a monkey.

That was a long, long time ago. When the small circus arrived, Sansa complained why it wasn't a singing team and a mime troupe that came, but when they really arrived, no one was happier than Sansa. Arya was also very happy.

She had wanted to perform with the members of the circus, but was caught in time by Mei and pressed into the audience seat to honestly finish watching the whole performance.

She was grateful that Mei didn't tell her father and mother about this matter, otherwise she would definitely be punished by her mother.

"Lions, elephants, monkeys can all perform, but direwolves can't." She remembered Mei saying this to her.

"Why, are direwolves too stupid?" She asked curiously. If direwolves couldn't perform, that would be truly a pity.

"Because direwolves love freedom and will never perform for people. At least, Lady Catelyn would think so. I don't suggest you go and ask. So, you'd better sit honestly in the chair and watch." She remembered Mei saying this while scooping her up from the circus barrel.

She had wanted to suddenly drill out of the barrel when the lion was rolling the barrel to give her parents a surprise. It was a pity that it failed because of Mei's intervention.

Arya remembered that not long after the circus performance, Mei went to sea to find her own freedom.

After Mei returned from sea, she brought back a lot of gifts for everyone. She received all kinds of good-looking clothes and decorations from all over the world, but to tell the truth, she didn't like them at all. She had secretly run to ask Bran if he could give the sword to her, and she promised she could give all the clothes and decorations to him. "I don't like girls' clothes at all!" Bran refused her directly. She begged for a long time but was only allowed to play with the sword for one afternoon.

Truly too stingy. When returning the bone sword, she cried secretly, not because the time was too short.

Mei clearly knew she wouldn't like that pile of clothes, but still insisted on giving them to her. Although in quantity, it was not less than Sansa's at all—she expressed gratitude for this—but Mei took care of everyone's intentions, but didn't satisfy her alone. Now that pile of clothes might still be piled up somewhere in King's Landing, or had already been burned to ashes. Heard that the Queen had ordered the burning of the Tower of the Hand, and that pile of clothes most likely vanished with the Tower of the Hand.

She didn't miss that pile of clothes at all. The only thing she cared about was the small sword Jon gave her. Only Jon knew her thoughts. Mei must only hope she would be a girl like Sansa, right? Just like her parents expected, one day marrying some lord's son and giving birth to a pile of annoying little children for him.

After leaving the Waif, she went to the main hall, where the Kindly Man was waiting. Every time she returned to the temple, he seemed to know it in his heart, and this time was no different; he watched her quietly, as if discerning the thoughts and ideas in her mind.

I won't let you understand.

"You're back." He said. He always opened with this, asking with a smile.

The moon turned white and then black, black and then white, but she could always return at the appropriate time. She admitted that sometimes she needed Brusco's reminder, because Braavos was foggy and it rained quite a bit, and it wasn't always possible to observe the moon, and at this time she needed Brusco's help to determine the date.

Their tacit understanding was deep. When Brusco counted money in front of her and said the recitation words between believers when leaving, it meant she needed to return that night. Sometimes, she wasn't sure if the moon was black and she should return or if it was simply because of the summoning of the House of Black and White, but this time she knew, this time it was the House of Black and White taking the initiative to summon, because the moonlight outside was cold and didn't belong to the day of return.

"Yes, I earned two silver coins today. Brusco didn't care about the damage to the cart. He said one silver coin could buy several carts."

"Not bad. This time you left, what three things did you learn more about?"

Many, many, so many that she couldn't count them herself.

Learning three things was originally to let her communicate with Braavosi as much as possible to train her listening and speaking of Braavosi, and later it was to let her constantly delve into all aspects of Braavos. In the words of the Kindly Man, that was "Many people often cannot open their mouths to strangers, nor can they quickly establish trust with people. This is a major defect as a Faceless Man. You need to understand more deeply."

The Kindly Man was training her. She understood. This was like her father often taking Robb and Jon to listen to the petitions of the commoners and even lords. He would often ask for Robb and Jon's opinions after the end.

But ever since she spoke of the Faceless Man hanging upside down under the heart tree in Winterfell, she could feel that the temple was more expecting to learn some information from her that they might not know. The Kindly Man denied the value of the things she said more and more, and the standard of the three things now became more and more difficult to evaluate.

But this wasn't difficult. She just didn't want to tell them, especially after she felt the "betrayal" of the House of Black and White.

"A treasury manager of the Iron Bank has defected. According to sailors, he fled to Oldtown with hundreds of thousands of gold dragons and became a man of leisure there. Some sailors say he offered half of his gains to Lord Hightower—not the Lord Hightower hiding in the High Tower, but his son, Baelor 'Brightsmile'." She wanted to pick news that wasn't good for Braavos, preferably something that could cause harm to Braavos.

The defection of the Iron Bank's bank manager, perhaps, was one.

The Iron Bank provided loans to Bolton. She was happy to hear such news.

"Oh, actually having so many gold dragons, I guess the Iron Bank won't let him enjoy life in Oldtown." The Kindly Man kept smiling. "It's a pity, we can't kill him. This treasury manager you mentioned also once provided service to the temple. We don't take action against people we know."

"I don't know him." Arya blurted out.

She wasn't a Faceless Man yet. If the temple was willing to hand the mission to her, she could learn to change faces in advance and leave Braavos and never return. Of course, she would keep her promise and kill the people who should be killed, just as compensation for her taking Vargo Hoat's life.

The Kindly Man's smile still hung on his face, and he didn't speak, seemingly savoring her meaning.

"I can help you kill him. I am very familiar with Oldtown."

Not familiar at all. To her, it was no different from Pentos, Volantis, or even Meereen. They were all places outside her cognition. The difference was that she had long admired the Hightower.

Returning to the North from Oldtown wasn't a good method, but Oldtown was still safe.

The crew were all saying that the Ironborn had stopped attacking everywhere, so the trade route to the West began to show signs of recovery. Everyone knew that trading to the East might be forcibly requisitioned by the Free Cities, while trading with Oldtown was a good choice. When the whole world was at war, Oldtown became a good safe haven. These defectors were willing to find a place that could provide them with shelter.

"Perhaps this is a good proposal, but the Iron Bank must open its mouth first. This is not something the temple can decide. Your proposal should be put aside first. What's more, you are still far from being able to act."

Far? If you were willing to teach, it wouldn't be far.

"I can learn."

She felt she didn't have much patience left. If the temple couldn't teach her useful things, she would rather return to Winterfell and pester Mei. Perhaps she would be generous, and most likely wouldn't need her to sell wild boar meat along the Winter Town.

"To learn, you need to learn humility first. I can't see these in your eyes." He still smiled, looking like what had just been discussed was very interesting. "Understanding this matter has no meaning for us. You need to say another one."

No meaning? She wasn't surprised. Perhaps the temple already knew this kind of thing and had already accepted the inquiry of the Iron Bank.

She knew the temple's thoughts, and also knew the Kindly Man's thoughts. Not letting her say news they didn't know or weren't sure about, the Kindly Man wouldn't let her go.

The princess of Dorne launched a rebellion, and the Prince of Dorne had sent troops to suppress the rebellion. She wanted to say, Bolton's army had set off from Gulltown and marched toward the North... But the more news about Westeros, the more urgent she was in the eyes of the Kindly Man. She endured not saying these news.

She didn't want to surrender and admit defeat.

"The Sea Lord, Ferrego Antaryon, will die of illness within three days." It would be better if they all died.

"This is your guess, or news you learned?" The Kindly Man frowned.

"News I learned." She replied helplessly. "Andrew of the Isle of Ibben said, the prostitute serving him, in order to please him and let him spend the silver coins of Ibben, relayed what the Sea Lord's guard had said to her."

"Rumors often have meaning, and often have no meaning. When he dies is decided by the Many-Faced God, and not decided by Andrew, of course not decided by the prostitute either. This news has no meaning."

She knew it had no meaning. Perhaps the people of the temple had already gone to see the Sea Lord's illness. The Kindly Man knew when the Sea Lord would die earlier than anyone else.

"The drunkard at the Green Eel Inn said, Toromant Vunatis might succeed as Sea Lord." She stared at the Kindly Man's eyes, wanting to see the changes in them, but apart from staring at her, there was nothing in those eyes.

"Now we know the view of a drunkard." He still smiled, looking like he was mocking her. "Toromant's mother came from the Maegyr family of Volantis, with ancient Valyrian blood. Her ancestors also once used dragons to conquer the world and were a branch of the Dragonlord family, with a status even more noble than the Targaryen family of Westeros—his father is the president of the Iron Guild and the Grain Guild of Braavos. Now the world is at war. We admit that Toromant is extremely conspicuous among the candidates, but there are still more dazzling people than him. This news has no meaning."

"What news has meaning?" She blurted out, feeling a bit angry. She knew that the requirement to satisfy three things now became difficult, but if the news became the endless seeking of the temple, that would be too unfair. She was here to learn, not to be a spy.

"Girl, who are you?" The Kindly Man asked.

"No one." She was still very angry.

"No, the girl standing in front of me has a name and surname. If she wants to go back, she can take a ship to White Harbor. The Gray Seal is docked at the Purple Harbor, departing at the tide tomorrow morning. If a certain girl gets on the ship tomorrow, she can stand on the city wall of Winterfell on the next moonless night."

"You can't drive me away." I gave the iron coin.

"We didn't drive you away."

"Tell me, what news has meaning."

"The news you say is like telling me that coins are made of metal, or it's like telling me that the front of a gold dragon coin is a crown and the back is a skull, which is boring. You have to say something fresh, not broken, and it can't be the guesses of sailors and drunkards. There are so many people in this world, we won't pay attention to the thoughts of these people."

His tone of speaking made her think of Joffrey.

Joffrey was a perverse prince, but she couldn't think of what common points this kind old man and the young Prince Joffrey could have.

"The Faceless Man who went to the North will never be able to return." She let her eyes lock onto the Kindly Man's face, wanting to judge every change on it according to the method the Waif taught her, to understand the emotional changes under the face.

As long as it was a person, there must be changes. But apart from the full face of wrinkles and the suspicious smile, she couldn't see anything.

"Is this what you dreamed, or guessed?"

Guessed. "Dreamed." She cast her angry eyes toward the Kindly Man.

It should be him who is ashamed, not her. It was the people of the temple who killed her brothers and plotted against children, not her.

"That's a pity." He looked back into her eyes, and it was a long time before he spoke leisurely, "Dreamed... since it's what you dreamed, it's most likely a prophecy. Once a prophecy is made, it cannot be changed. That's a pity, that's a pity. This is valuable information. Two things left."

"The vanguard army of Volantis heading to Meereen suffered successive attacks from demons and dragons."

"Did you see it with your own eyes, or is it hearsay news?"

She really hoped to see it with her own eyes, whether it was dragons or demons, but it was a pity that these were still from drunken sailors. "Heard it." She replied helplessly.

"News about dragons is always complicated. Many people rumor that they have seen dragons. Whether it's Volantis, Meereen, or the more distant Qarth, there are people who say they have seen traces of dragons. Dragons and demons attacking the army, this kind of news is the first time we have heard it. If it's true, there will be countless soldier witnesses. I'll accept it as a piece of news. One last thing left."

Dragons. She felt the Kindly Man was interested in this.

Regardless, this piece of news passed through her somewhat unexpectedly.

"Vargo Hoat of the Bolton family in the North died in a brothel." They summoned her back, wasn't it for this matter?

"That's a pity, he shouldn't have died so early. He was a gentle and polite person."

He was an irritable, rude starving ghost, she deserved to die.

A candle in the candelabra burned out at this moment; its dying light flickered, the remaining flame dancing and struggling, casting a bright, yellowish glow. Arya felt as if all the statues of gods around her were staring at her.

"But he just died." He didn't even see what the murderer looked like before he died. Perhaps no one saw it, or no one could see clearly. What she relied on was not what the House of Black and White taught, but the water dancer skill taught by Syrio Forel.

"Who killed him?"

Fate, she wanted to say, but this kind of talk was too strange for her. "Arya Stark of the Stark family."

"A name carrying honor. The House of Black and White cannot accommodate honor, let alone arrogance." His smile was slightly restrained, and he stared deeply into her eyes. "You won't become one of us. There is no room for you here?"

"You want to drive me away?"

"It's you driving yourself away. We tried to train you, but you refused to listen to orders. Not only that, you wore the mask of the temple to take away lives that shouldn't be taken. You are blaspheming the Many-Faced God. We don't need such people. And, you will bring danger to Brusco's family, and the identity of Cat will also die."

She knew that if she said the wrong thing, she would have to leave here, but she was prepared.

"You heard wrong. The one who killed Vargo Hoat was Arya Stark of Winterfell, unrelated to Cat. Cat rarely set foot on the street where Vargo Hoat died, and she is unrelated to this matter." She didn't rely on Cat's power, she wanted to say. "This is the grudge between Bolton and Stark."

"Equally reckless, but it can be considered that you didn't blaspheme the gods. We previously agreed that you are not suitable to stay here... You can continue to stay and accept observation. There will be training next, you probably won't like it."

She didn't want to investigate who "we" were, part of whom would take action against her brothers. This was a thorn stuck in her heart.

Arya felt this sentence was bait set for her. She was a brave person, not a coward, and didn't want to avoid it. "Unless it's useless."

"Absolutely useful." He showed the most kind smile, took her through the dark corridor, passed countless stone statues and unknown carvings. "Faceless Men should adapt to various environments, whether it's darkness or noise or absolute silence, whether it's chaos or order. Do you understand?"

Don't understand. "Understand."

The carvings on both sides were looking at her, but she wasn't afraid. They were all dead, sealed in stone blocks, subjected to smoke and fire, silently standing here, while she was alive, could accept secrets, and act according to her own will. These carved statues were just here to scare people, or for exhibition, perhaps they were also lions and monkeys released by the circus.

And I am a direwolf. Also a cat.

"Lying." He turned to the Waif following behind. "Get a cup of hot milk for our girl."

She didn't expect to drink hot milk. She looked at him hesitantly, and he also responded with a smile, looking like he wasn't prepared to respond to any of her questions.

"Are you afraid?" He asked.

"I'm not afraid of anything." She took the milk and drank it. There was the taste of scorched brown sugar inside, with a slight bitterness in the aftertaste. At some moment, she thought it was sweet sleep flower, but the Kindly Man had countless ways to kill her, and she wasn't worried it was this kind.

After drinking a cup of milk, she handed the cup back to the Waif. "Just one cup, I feel I can drink more."

"More won't do, you are too thin." He looked at her body, then turned and left. "Now go to sleep, tomorrow you can try to serve."

That night, she didn't return to her wolf pack. She found herself turning into a cat, wandering by the canal, constantly jumping on the roof. Cat didn't fear the cold air of Braavos, nor did she care about the water droplets condensed in her fur. She walked carefully from the corner where other cats' scents remained, and drilled into the thick fog along a fishy smell of aquatic products, shaking her trembling abdomen.

She named this cat Nymeria, or called herself Nymeria, but no one ever asked its name.

She felt some pain in her abdomen—this feeling made her feel strange—she knew there was still some time before these little guys were officially born, and she still had time to choose a birth location for Nymeria. But now, it was better to fill Nymeria's hungry belly with some food.

Her sense of smell had always been keen, but compared to Nymeria, it was far behind. Nymeria's eyes were sharp, able to easily cross the dark gray fog and see the fishing boats that were unloading. They always docked at this time so that they could transport the caught fish and shrimp to various markets in Braavos in the early morning.

She saw other cats gathering there waiting from afar. She stopped her footsteps and hid behind a gray brick to observe.

If the captain wasn't very generous, she needed to compete with other cats. Now was not the right time.

She could choose to be bolder, or choose to be more timid, but being more timid meant being more difficult. Based on her understanding of humans, she felt she could choose a bolder approach, and she knew it was difficult for ordinary people to catch a flexible cat on a cramped and slippery ship deck. She believed the probability of having a water dancer on the ship was very small.

She walked past the cat group. She knew that if she walked through them, it might mean a provocation to them, which often meant fighting with other cats—this made her feel a bit strange. When she was a human, she worried more about humans; when she was a cat, she worried more about cats.

I can be a cat now, and I can also be a human.

She crossed the cats waiting on the side and went straight forward. If it were other cats, they might rub against humans' thighs to show favor, but she knew this trick didn't work on most humans.

The cat group waited quietly on the side, as if they had formed a tacit understanding with the ship owner. They would throw the accidentally dropped small fish or aquatic products with poor quality directly over, but this required time.

It dared to get closer to the ship. She felt the eyes of other cats were all staring at it. They must be shocked by its boldness.

I can be even bolder. So it jumped onto the ship and walked inward along the edge of the gunwale. The fishermen didn't notice a cat getting on the ship. The gray color provided it with cover, and it also knew when to make a sound and when to shut up.

Fish jumped down from the basket one by one. It easily snatched them away from the side, and then carefully hid in the corner to feast.

Sardines swallowed like drinking juice, thick and smooth; sea bream tasted like sucking hot cheese, easy to be full, but also easy to get greasy; squid was the most inconvenient to eat, they always struggled, but when chewed, it was like eating the roasted sesame cake made by Uma. It was very comfortable when eating one, but if there were more, it would be greasy; and there were many fish like sea snakes. Unless forced, Nymeria wouldn't choose them.

It quietly filled its belly and noticed several pairs of eyes staring at it, but it didn't care. After waiting for a group of fishermen to lift down a basket of fish, it followed and jumped onto the shore.

It noticed the gazes cast by the cats waiting on the shore, so it proudly responded with a "meow." They changed their posture from a squatting state and paid attention to her. She wagged her tail, suppressed the urge to lick her fur and run away quickly, and slowly returned along the path she came.

When confirming that there was nothing following behind, it hid into the shadow and ran quickly toward the location that made Nymeria somewhat fearful.

When she found a dark and uninhabited seam in the temple for Nymeria and brought a few pieces of rags, she felt too tired and could no longer persist, so she slid heavily out of Nymeria's body.

When waking up, she felt empty all around and couldn't open her eyes no matter what. After she pulled open her eyelids with her hands, she confirmed that she was blind.

You can't scare me.

The first few days were uncomfortable, but eventually she adapted to the darkness in the House of Black and White.

Darkness was the main body of the temple. In fact, for most of the time in the temple, the surroundings were in pitch darkness, just now, it was more thorough.

It didn't matter. She didn't need eyes at all times. During the day, he could feel the space around him by following a bit of sound, understand the location of candles by following a bit of smell, and occasionally a bit of crackling sound of candles could also let her judge that she should replace candles for the temple, and a bit of light movement could also let her discover the corpses that needed to be processed.

With Nymeria's help, she was also adapting to her own night, adapting faster than when she first came to the temple.

Every night, when she fed Nymeria, she would always borrow Nymeria's body to constantly expand her cognition of the temple. She was incredibly free.

She easily traveled through unknown corridors. Apart from locked spaces, it wanted to go wherever it wanted. It could easily climb onto the roof beam to observe every move of the Kindly Man and see the drug blending that the Waif refused to let her know.

No one could discover it.

Its hooves were soft, stepping on stone blocks without making any sound; its breathing was light, not bringing any discordant airflow; its fur color itself was like mottled gray shadows. As long as it controlled its eyes, no one could discover it, even if the room was full of gods.

Once, it even lay on the palm of a god, overlooking the people worshiping it below.

Ridiculous.

For such a long time, she hadn't had the opportunity to fully familiarize herself with the temple. The temple had too many places that were not allowed to enter, and many places that were allowed to enter she didn't dare to enter. There were thousands of roads. Once lost, it was not easy to return. Even Arya with normal eyes and ears would easily get lost, let alone the blind one?

It was completely different with Nymeria's help.

Nymeria felt fear here, but Arya didn't.

The combination of the two could be mutually beneficial. She believed the two were in a cooperative relationship. Nymeria could be her eyes, she could provide food and a place to live for Nymeria, without being threatened by anyone. Occasionally, she would also look after the kittens Nymeria gave birth to.

A total of six. She didn't distinguish the gender of the kittens, nor did she distinguish their colors. Relying only on sound, she couldn't distinguish them yet. She wanted to name the kittens according to the names of her brothers and sisters, but it was truly difficult to distinguish. After the blind girl named the kittens several times and confused them, she finally gave up.

Perhaps, when I pick up my eyes again, I can name you.

The Kindly Man let her drink hot milk every two days, with the same scorched taste.

"Who are you?" The Kindly Man asked. Before she could answer, he added, "If a certain girl is willing to say that ancient family name and honorable name, she can take back her eyes and take a Braavosi merchant ship home. It's been so long, that girl must miss home. She still has relatives waiting for her at home, and they are all worried about their relatives wandering outside."

For a moment, she wanted to open her mouth and say that name, but the Kindly Man's flippant tone angered her. She wasn't a weak and delicate girl. She was as brave and fearless as that sister.

"No one." She said, picking up a boiled egg, peeling it easily, and putting it into her bowl.

"Lying. I know you, but it doesn't matter. From today on, you must have a new name and a new identity."

"After you say the new identity, I will give you a name."

"A blind girl, what is more suitable than a beggar? Hehe, it's even harder for a beggar to survive in Braavos. Without eyes, you need to rely on your own hands and ears. Braavos is full of water networks. If you are not careful, you will fall into the water. This is completely different from inside the temple. Tell me, won't you drown?"

"If the Many-Faced God is willing to arrange it this way, but I know the Many-Faced God won't." She swallowed the egg and looked at the Kindly Man with empty eyes. "Beth, Blind Beth, this is the new name."

Arya Stark of Winterfell had seen Beth and played blindfold games with her. Nothing was more suitable than this name.

Blind Beth had to beg in Braavos. This was a new job.

"New identity and new name must be accompanied by a new face." The Kindly Man announced. "Follow me."

She followed the Kindly Man, walked through the stairs Nymeria was familiar with, and had an intuitive sense of direction. She felt that walking in this kind of darkness was nothing great.

The Kindly Man stopped from time to time. She knew he was looking back. Perhaps he was puzzled why she could walk so steadily.

I am Arya Stark of Winterfell, I am a descendant of the First Men, she had her own strength. She told herself.

She changed into a new face under the magic of "light and shadow," a dilapidated face. The speed was so fast that she was surprised.

"Control fear, slowly adapt." He was referring to overcoming the fear of the original owner of the face. Beth understood.

The dead wouldn't scare her.

She visited the nest of kittens after dinner. She didn't expect the kittens could grow so fast. Now Nymeria couldn't control them at all.

They were familiar with Beth's previous scent. The change on her face only made them hesitate for a moment, and then they approached her and played with her as usual.

Perhaps I will name you next time I come back.

A kitten pounced on her leg and began to gnaw, and then was driven away by other kittens.

They were playing! Beth understood, but they would soon be scattered and say goodbye to their mother. Cats don't gather in groups, unlike wolves.

Nymeria rubbed her trouser leg at this time, so she squatted down and touched its fur with her hand. When she felt the time was about right, she stood up again, said "thank you," and left the temple at starry night with a broken wooden bowl and a thin rod.

She smelled the coldness unique to the night.

She remembered the streets of Braavos, whether it was night or day. Now day or night was the same for her. Without light, how to walk safely on it was a problem. Fortunately, after the training of the temple, these problems could be overcome one by one.

Inns and brothels were good places for begging, and the sense of smell and hearing could always provide her with guidance. Sounds were diverse, and those with the smell of wine and bread were more likely to be inns, while those with more female voices and mixed with the smell of cosmetics were mostly brothels. And she would never confuse an inn with a fish market, nor would she mistake a brothel for a cloth shop.

She always switched between several inns and brothels. Some shops were more annoying to beggars, and some were not so annoying. She tried her best not to cause people's annoyance, but according to the Kindly Man, her face was full of various dense swellings and wounds, which would never make people look twice, which also meant that no one would welcome her.

The first few weeks were difficult, but after adapting to this rhythm of life, she could always beg for suitable needs at the time least annoying to people, such as a piece of fresh hot bread, roasting by the fire for a while, or listening to sailors and merchants from all over the world tell one story after another when there weren't many people.

She was always most concerned about news of Westeros. Some made her happy, but some made her angry.

"The Queen of King's Landing died in a rebellion and murder launched by the Faith of the Seven." This was news that made her angry. She had repeatedly confirmed and sincerely hoped that the dead Queen wasn't the one she knew, until she heard, "The Queen's brother, the Kingslayer, killed the High Septon of King's Landing."

Yes, only that Queen's brother was the Kingslayer.

They discussed the madness of the Faith of the Seven, but in Beth's heart, this was the normal state of the world: the followers of R'hllor in Qohor had already launched riots, burning the statues of the Black Goat god; the Archon of Volantis had already sent troops to suppress the various religious sects supporting the Dragon Queen; the Reach in Westeros was expelling religious people causing trouble in the fields, and nobles and lords began to conscript knights to suppress the various rebellions launched by the Warrior's Sons and the Poor Fellows; and the followers of the Faceless Men in Lys began to search for followers of the Panther, slandering them for using cats as spies.

Using cats as spies. This statement stung her. Perhaps one day the Kindly Man would also slander her as a follower of the Panther.

She wasn't interested in religious news.

The Queen wasn't killed by her own hands. She felt angry. She felt opportunities constantly slipping from her fingertips. If she still couldn't learn the skill of changing faces of the Faceless Men, perhaps she would eventually become a small mortal who didn't matter. She would watch her sister kill all sides, eliminate all enemies one by one, and then mock her for just being a little sister. Or, she would watch stupid enemies die in various absurd events—for example, the Mountain, it was said, died in a tournament. After death, his head was sent to Dorne for exhibition. His head should have been sent to Winterfell.

Apart from news that made her angry, there were also some news that made her slightly happy. The sister of that wolf girl not only broke the Twins and killed the Freys, but also marched south and defeated the Kingslayer's army...

She must also be able to defeat the Leech Lord, because her great name was also widely circulated in the Eastern Continent. People called her "Blood Wolf of the Starks," blood wolf, blood wolf, a direwolf stained with the blood of enemies. She didn't have the stupidity of fish. She sometimes thought so.

Perhaps next time she returned to the temple, she should tell the Kindly Man this title. Perhaps he could understand what consequences would be faced by assassinating the family of the Starks... No, if the Faceless Men knew her threat, they might also kill her. I should secretly remind her.

The temperature in the inn was just right, and there were many guests. She hid the broken wooden bowl on her body, used a bag of copper coins begged to ask the waiter for a glass of wine. This behavior amused the waiter.

She also laughed. Beggars couldn't make people like them, but paying customers were different.

This was the most interesting part of the begging process. She liked to spend all the money accumulated in begging at once, which often made her particularly popular. Everyone would feel she was an interesting beggar.

"You should save the money, and then..." The waiter advised, but he couldn't say the words behind.

"Then buy a house, and then hire a servant, and continue begging," she responded with a smile, "I won't beg for long," because Beth would soon die again, "you know why."

The waiter served her a glass of mead and also sent a piece of freshly baked hot bread. Nothing made her like it more than hot bread.

"Hey, because you are a blind beggar, hey, truly pitiful!" The waiter said sympathetically. "The extra money, I will tell the boss, let him keep an account for you. Perhaps next time, you can come directly to ask for a few pieces of bread or a few glasses of wine."

"You are truly kind."

The sound in the inn was noisy, but as long as she wanted to listen, she could hear the one she wanted to hear from the noisy sound. But she didn't have to be like this, because the guests next to her would always share the news they recently learned in the inn, and the people in the distance were just repeating the news of yesterday and the day before yesterday.

"Iron Bank... defection..." The customer next to her was still talking about dragons, she heard the sound.

Following the direction of the bit of sound, she looked up, the sound was a bit clearer, but wanting to hear it completely clearly was still far away.

Iron Bank's news, she wanted to know.

The inn was steaming with heat, smoky and hazy. The waiter who served her hot bread wore a hood with a fox head, thin lips. The noisy customer next to her wore purple robes and satin clothes, his hair was combed neatly, he deliberately kept a certain distance from Beth, but he hid this well.

Beth would miss all the sights, but the cat sitting on the beam wouldn't. It clearly saw Beth's ugly face full of sores, the clothes like rags, and the face was also dirty, a bit of wine was stuck on the upper garment—the customer next to her was carefully shaking chili powder into her wine glass at this time... The surrounding customers were giggling.

Beth didn't like drinking, she had hot bread, so she didn't care about him.

The cat shook its body, cheered up, followed the edge of the beam, turned the railing, and jumped to the second floor.

"The new Sea Lord will strengthen the control over Qohor and Norvos. If they don't agree to regard Braavos as the master, then they shouldn't expect to have trade in the northwest direction. Once trade is cut off, the two cities will collapse. We don't need to worry; as for the Kingdom of the Three Daughters, let them fight endlessly. Only when they bleed endlessly will we have the opportunity to annex their banks and monopolize their trade, and they will sooner or later let Braavosi warships dock." The middle-aged man speaking had a long beard, wore black satin clothes, and was enjoying fine wine elegantly upstairs.

If they were nobles and were discussing secrets, Beth didn't know why they would appear in this kind of place.

The cat's pace was steady and light, and it heard all the secrets inadvertently. Do followers of the Panther have this ability?

"When they see Braavos's ambition, they will be as careful of Braavos as they are of Volantis." An old man replied, his beard reaching his chest.

"We won't be as stupid as Volantis and won't act rashly before having enough strength."

"Enough strength? What more enough strength is needed? Braavos stores half of the world's grain inland, and the weapons and leather armor of the rest of the world combined won't be half of Braavos's. However, the residents are shouting that they can't buy enough grain and can't pay the firewood fee for winter. You should have pulled these dissatisfied people into the army long ago. As for the women and children left behind, although you don't allow slavery, many jobs can also be done by free people."

"Grain and weapons? You also forgot to say warships. Our warships are more than all other trading cities combined—but this is not enough. To defeat the enemy, we must further weaken them. If not, we need dragons. Only dragons can make us invincible and become the true New Valyria."

Dragons again.

"Dragons are in the East. You should take advantage of the dragons not growing up and grab them."

"Some fools in the West want to steal dragons from the Dragon Queen by relying on a little Targaryen blood, but they don't even understand the habits of dragons." He laughed. "We are different. We have already understood the habits of dragons thoroughly. This, of course, cannot be without the help of the Citadel of Westeros."

"Citadel?"

The middle-aged man nodded. "Citadel, yes, but this matter is done by the temple. The temple appoints and manages the judges of the High Tribunal. All trial cases need their permission. They are an important leg of this table of Braavos."

"Undoubtedly. I am terrified of them." The long-bearded person covered his chest. "However, I want to ask, they are acting in the Citadel, don't those old stubborn people know?"

"Maesters? They certainly know, otherwise do you think Hightower would dare to shelter the defected Iron Bank manager?"

"Iron Bank? Renowned. We also have proverbs circulating there, you don't want me to repeat them, right?"

The middle-aged man waved his hand. "All are for making money, why bother excluding each other?"

"Perhaps, the temple can no longer tolerate it. The whole world is about to be occupied by followers of the Red God. How can they not worry about being burned to death by a fire from R'hllor? The struggle of sects is no weaker than the struggle of lords—the priest picked up a girl from the North who believes in the Old Gods in Westeros. The feast has begun. Valar Morghulis." This voice seems...

A buzzing sound suddenly issued in her head, which made Beth nauseous. Forced, she left from the cat's body.

Is he here to monitor me?

She stood up from the stool, picked up the half-eaten bread, put it into her bosom, and raised that glass of wine. The customer who put ingredients in her wine glass turned around at this time, and the stool under his butt made a strange creaking sound.

She splashed the wine in her hand onto that person's face, and then walked straight out of the front door with her stick. A burst of uproarious laughter erupted in the inn.

For the next few days, every time she begged on the road, someone would always come to beat her with a stick. Every time, she would stand up and fight back, but fighting back often brought greater pain. After several times, her whole body became sore.

He wanted her to think this was an "enemy" coming to punish her. This wouldn't succeed, because she knew the murderer.

Just like this, a ten-day period passed. She was finally able to resist the provocation of the person coming, and she finally reached the day to return to the temple.

Nymeria's children had already left the temple, only Nymeria was left quietly rubbing against her trouser legs when she returned. She threw away the wooden stick, held Nymeria in her arms, and walked alone in the darkness.

The candlelight of the candles was swaying. They looked gray-white. The sculptures on the water pool were lifelike, looking indeed like gods appearing in the world, but she could see the texture of wood carving and a piece of peeling paint in the dark by borrowing Nymeria's eyes. They were wooden, not stone, let alone gold or silver. But they were big enough.

"You're back." After she bypassed the hall, the Kindly Man was waiting there. She pretended not to see him and walked past him until he made a sound, and then she stopped.

"The moon is black."

"A certain blind girl shouldn't know if the moon is black or white."

Unless she had other eyes. "She can feel it."

"How to feel?"

She dropped Nymeria in her arms. "With the heart."

She didn't lie. He must be able to see it. His expression had a trace of change, which had to be checked with a cat's eyes.

The Kindly Man sighed slightly. "Compared to the last time you left, what three things did you learn more about?"

Familiar way of asking.

"The gold taken by the defected bank manager of the Iron Bank was not hundreds of thousands of gold dragons but one million gold dragons. He paid seventy thousand to Smiling Baelor and left thirty thousand. He is now a vassal of Smiling Baelor, a Viscount of the Riverlands Island. He is also preparing to build a manor on the Riverlands Island with twenty thousand gold dragons and build a long bridge leading to Oldtown."

"Great plan. Is this a rumor or a fact?"

"Rumor, but too many rumors put together, I believe it is a fact."

"You believe. Understanding this kind of thing perhaps has some meaning. Two more things."

Things went unexpectedly smoothly.

"The Sea Lord is about to die." She believed firmly.

"The Sea Lord has been seriously ill for a long time and will die at any time. This is not valuable information."

She admitted.

"The new Sea Lord has been determined."

"The Sea Lord is decided by the great merchants and the trade guild. They haven't held a meeting yet, how can it be determined?"

She didn't know. "Anyway, it has been determined." She replied stubbornly.

"I don't know where you learned such news, however, this kind of news has no meaning for us."

How could this kind of news have no meaning?

"Black Beth gave birth to a girl, and she wants to name the child Rose." She was a bit angry.

"This is good news. We can congratulate her, but we are not prepared to send a gift to her." The Kindly Man smiled, like mocking her stubbornness.

"I know, the one who hit me was you." She looked at him with empty eyes.

Nymeria jumped onto the hand extended by the Mother at this time, looking at the Kindly Man. His face was changing.

"How did you know?"

A certain cat would follow the gray-robed person, watching him change his face. "If you want a third thing, I will tell you this: Mei Stark has become the Lady of Winterfell, and her sister Sansa Stark will be her heir."

"Yes, completely so. Braavos has reached an agreement with the Lady, but according to the agreement, the girl is also part of the transaction. But since you have already told us that the Faceless Man won't return, the agreement most likely cannot be fulfilled." He stared at the girl's face. "However, the trading guild and the Iron Bank very much want to fulfill it."

What does it mean? Could it be that the temple treated her as a hostage? She realized. If she refused to forgive the temple for murdering her brothers, why would they teach her the true art of changing faces?

She couldn't help but touch her face. This was at best just an experience.

"Why tell me these?"

"Very complicated. Westeros is in chaos, which seriously affects Braavos's trade, and the Iron Bank is also very worried about the safety of loans, and the Red God is stirring in the North and the entire Eastern Continent, which makes the entire Braavos feel uneasy. Simply put, we need the North, but this North can be the North of the Blood Wolf, or the North of Bolton."

"The North belongs to..."

"We know who a certain girl thinks the North belongs to, but we don't care—the impulsiveness shown by the Blood Wolf in her actions is surprising, and she indeed showed deterrence, so we still tend toward Bolton. However, the trading guild and the Iron Bank have different views, and the temple is powerless. You are still too young, I'm afraid you don't understand these principles."

"I understand." She said eagerly. "Two against one, you have to obey, but you are worried that the Blood Wolf will retaliate. You want to use me." 【158-

"How did you know?"

A cat would follow the man in the grey robes and watch him change his face. "If you want a third thing, I will tell you this: Mei Stark has become the Lady of Winterfell, and her sister Sansa Stark will be her heir."

"Yes, exactly so. Braavos has reached an agreement with the Lady, but according to the agreement, the girl is also part of the deal. But since you have already told us that the Faceless Man is not coming back, I fear the agreement cannot be fulfilled." He stared at the girl's face. "However, the Trade Association and the Iron Bank are very keen to fulfill it."

What did that mean? Was the temple treating her as a hostage? She realized suddenly. If she refused to forgive the temple for the murder of her brothers, why would they teach her the true art of changing faces?

She couldn't help but touch her face; this was, at best, just an experience.

"Why tell me these things?"

"It is complicated. Westeros is in turmoil, which has seriously affected Braavosi trade. The Iron Bank is also worried about the security of its loans, and the Red God is stirring in the North and across the entire eastern continent, which has made all of Braavos uneasy. Simply put, we need the North, but this North can be the Wolf Girl's North, or it can be Bolton's North."

"The North belongs to..."

"We know who a certain girl thinks the North belongs to, but we do not care—the impulsiveness the Blood Wolf Girl has shown in her actions is surprising, and she has indeed demonstrated a deterrent force. Therefore, we still lean toward Bolton. However, the Trade Association and the Iron Bank have different views, and the temple is powerless. You are still too young; I fear you do not understand these principles."

"I understand," she said eagerly. "Two against one, you are forced to comply, but you are worried that the Blood Wolf Girl will retaliate. You want to use me."

"A certain girl is surprisingly clever. Who are you?"

No one, she wanted to say, but at this moment, saying that would be too hypocritical. "Arya Stark of Winterfell."

"Then, how does Arya Stark of Winterfell view this problem?" The girl wanted to purse her lips, but firmly suppressed the urge. She should stay in sync with her sister.

"I am not the Lady of Winterfell, this has nothing to do with me." She pulled off Beth's face. "I can help the temple kill the defecting bank manager. I don't know him, just as that Faceless Man who isn't coming back didn't know my brother."

"You are not yet ready to serve; you cannot learn to change your face."

She almost laughed; she didn't want to serve. "I will bring death to people." Perhaps death will serve me.