Chapter 8

Daemon changed into dry clothes and sat by the window, watching the raindrops slide down the lattice.

The glass is blurred, water droplets are densely covered, and the rainy night is coming.

He could just make out the muddy ferry where the two roads met.

Seeing the split in the road, his gaze couldn't help but stop.

If he went all the way east from here, he would reach Rook's rest.

The bell rang, and Daemon came back to his senses and went downstairs.

The hall was long and airy, with a row of large wooden barrels on one side and a stove on the other. The boy ran around with a barbecue fork, and Masha poured Ale from the barrel.

The benches were full, and villagers and farmers sat with travellers of all origins.

There were too many people with swords among the diners, Daemon couldn't help but keep in mind that there have been too many assassins attacking him in the past few months.

They were mercenary assassins sent by merchants from Tyrosh dissatisfied with his rule, also from Cersei, and from all kinds of new enemies.

He recognized the three who sat by the fireside bearing the red stallion of House Bracken and men in silver-grey cloaks with the Frey sigil two blue towers united by a bridge on silver-grey embroidered on their shoulders.

Daemon found an empty seat on a bench near the kitchen, handsome young man was sitting at the dining table, playing a wooden harp. Seeing Daemon sit down, he looked at the sword on his waist and said, "May the seven gods bless you, friend! My name is Marillion Do you want to hear a song?"

Daemon kept silent and asked the waiter directly for ale, grilled sausages and vegetable stew. In wet and cold weather, a vegetable stew is the best choice to warm bones.

Just as Marillion was about to speak, a man and a woman came across a woman with auburn hair and a short, fat middle-aged man with a big white beard.

"May the Seven bless you, friend." He spoke as they sat down.

"The same to you." The woman answered.

The stocky man ordered bread, meat, and ale in a "right now" tone.

Daemon glanced at this woman, wearing a hood, and could see a pair of clear blue eyes under the shadow, slender fingers, tightly wrapped, he can't see what kind of figure she had.

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The singer looked at them boldly, pitching his song familiarly, and the two apparently had no interest in it.

The sound of the door opening came from the far end of the room.

"I'm sorry, my lord, all our rooms are full," Daemon heard Masha's lowly sound

A group of four: an old man in the black shirt of the night's watchman, two Lannister guards... And he, the little man stood there decently.

"My people can sleep in the stables. As for me, I don't need a big room."

He said without hesitation.

Masha Heddle didn't know what to do.

"Sorry, my lord, there is no one left..."

Tyrion Lannister took out a gold coin from his pocket, observed the people around, and said as he walked in, "Is there nothing I can do to remedy it..."

Finally, he knocked the coin on the table to make a sound.

A Sellsword wearing a faded cloak said, "You can sleep in my room."

"Look, here's a smart guy," Tyrion tossed the coin as he spoke, and the Sellsword caught it in the air.

The dwarf turned to the maid and said, "Can you get me something to eat, Yoren, you eat with me."

The Night's Watchman named Yoren replied, "Yes, my lord!"

The dwarf didn't even look across the room, and Daemon didn't rush forward, thinking about something secretly.

"Lord Lannister!"

At this moment Marillion suddenly jumped up and ran to sell his music.

The dwarf refused sourly.

He sized up the singer with eyes of different sizes, and was about to look away...but he seemed to see something.

He looked at it for a moment in confusion, then suddenly smiled and said

"Lady Stark!"

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