He found Littlefinger in the brothel’s common room, chatting amiably with a tall, elegant womanwho wore a feathered gown over skin as black as ink. By the hearth, Heward and a buxom wenchwere playing at forfeits. From the look of it, he’d lost his belt, his cloak, his mail shirt, and his rightboot so far, while the girl had been forced to unbutton her shift to the waist. Jory Cassel stood besidea rain-streaked window with a wry smile on his face, watching Heward turn over tiles and enjoyingthe view.

Ned paused at the foot of the stair and pulled on his gloves. “It’s time we took our leave. Mybusiness here is done.”

Heward lurched to his feet, hurriedly gathering up his things. “As you will, my lord,” Jory said.

“I’ll help Wyl bring round the horses.” He strode to the door.

Littlefinger took his time saying his farewells. He kissed the black woman’s hand, whispered somejoke that made her laugh aloud, and sauntered over to Ned. “Your business,” he said lightly, “orRobert’s? They say the Hand dreams the king’s dreams, speaks with the king’s voice, and rules withthe king’s sword. Does that also mean you fuck with the king’s—”

“Lord Baelish,” Ned interrupted, “you presume too much. I am not ungrateful for your help. Itmight have taken us years to find this brothel without you. That does not mean I intend to endure yourmockery. And I am no longer the King’s Hand.”

“The direwolf must be a prickly beast,” said Littlefinger with a sharp twist of his mouth.

A warm rain was pelting down from a starless black sky as they walked to the stables. Ned drew upthe hood of his cloak. Jory brought out his horse. Young Wyl came right behind him, leadingLittlefinger’s mare with one hand while the other fumbled with his belt and the lacings of his trousers.

A barefoot whore leaned out of the stable door, giggling at him.

“Will we be going back to the castle now, my lord?” Jory asked. Ned nodded and swung into thesaddle. Littlefinger mounted up beside him. Jory and the others followed.

“Chataya runs a choice establishment,” Littlefinger said as they rode. “I’ve half a mind to buy it.

Brothels are a much sounder investment than ships, I’ve found. Whores seldom sink, and when theyare boarded by pirates, why, the pirates pay good coin like everyone else.” Lord Petyr chuckled at hisown wit.

Ned let him prattle on. After a time, he quieted and they rode in silence. The streets of King’sLanding were dark and deserted. The rain had driven everyone under their roofs. It beat down onNed’s head, warm as blood and relentless as old guilts. Fat drops of water ran down his face.

“Robert will never keep to one bed,” Lyanna had told him at Winterfell, on the night long agowhen their father had promised her hand to the young Lord of Storm’s End. “I hear he has gotten achild on some girl in the Vale.” Ned had held the babe in his arms; he could scarcely deny her, norwould he lie to his sister, but he had assured her that what Robert did before their betrothal was of nomatter, that he was a good man and true who would love her with all his heart. Lyanna had onlysmiled. “Love is sweet, dearest Ned, but it cannot change a man’s nature.”

The girl had been so young Ned had not dared to ask her age. No doubt she’d been a virgin; thebetter brothels could always find a virgin, if the purse was fat enough. She had light red hair and apowdering of freckles across the bridge of her nose, and when she slipped free a breast to give hernipple to the babe, he saw that her bosom was freckled as well. “I named her Barra,” she said as thechild nursed. “She looks so like him, does she not, milord? She has his nose, and his hair …”

“She does.” Eddard Stark had touched the baby’s fine, dark hair. It flowed through his fingers likeblack silk. Robert’s firstborn had had the same fine hair, he seemed to recall.

“Tell him that when you see him, milord, as it … as it please you. Tell him how beautiful she is.”

“I will,” Ned had promised her. That was his curse. Robert would swear undying love and forgetthem before evenfall, but Ned Stark kept his vows. He thought of the promises he’d made Lyanna asshe lay dying, and the price he’d paid to keep them.

“And tell him I’ve not been with no one else. I swear it, milord, by the old gods and new. Chatayasaid I could have half a year, for the baby, and for hoping he’d come back. So you’ll tell him I’mwaiting, won’t you? I don’t want no jewels or nothing, just him. He was always good to me, truly.”

Good to you, Ned thought hollowly. “I will tell him, child, and I promise you, Barra shall not gowanting.”

She had smiled then, a smile so tremulous and sweet that it cut the heart out of him. Riding throughthe rainy night, Ned saw Jon Snow’s face in front of him, so like a younger version of his own. If thegods frowned so on bastards, he thought dully, why did they fill men with such lusts? “Lord Baelish,what do you know of Robert’s bastards?”

“Well, he has more than you, for a start.”

“How many?”

Littlefinger shrugged. Rivulets of moisture twisted down the back of his cloak. “Does it matter? Ifyou bed enough women, some will give you presents, and His Grace has never been shy on thatcount. I know he’s acknowledged that boy at Storm’s End, the one he fathered the night Lord Stanniswed. He could hardly do otherwise. The mother was a Florent, niece to the Lady Selyse, one of herbedmaids. Renly says that Robert carried the girl upstairs during the feast, and broke in the weddingbed while Stannis and his bride were still dancing. Lord Stannis seemed to think that was a blot on thehonor of his wife’s House, so when the boy was born, he shipped him off to Renly.” He gave Ned asideways glance. “I’ve also heard whispers that Robert got a pair of twins on a serving wench atCasterly Rock, three years ago when he went west for Lord Tywin’s tourney. Cersei had the babeskilled, and sold the mother to a passing slaver. Too much an affront to Lannister pride, that close tohome.”

Ned Stark grimaced. Ugly tales like that were told of every great lord in the realm. He couldbelieve it of Cersei Lannister readily enough … but would the king stand by and let it happen? TheRobert he had known would not have, but the Robert he had known had never been so practiced atshutting his eyes to things he did not wish to see. “Why would Jon Arryn take a sudden interest in theking’s baseborn children?”

The short man gave a sodden shrug. “He was the King’s Hand. Doubtless Robert asked him to seethat they were provided for.”

Ned was soaked through to the bone, and his soul had grown cold. “It had to be more than that, orwhy kill him?”

Littlefinger shook the rain from his hair and laughed. “............