Game of Thrones: I'm flying a dragon on your face, how do you respond?

Jehaerys suddenly felt the urge to urinate, so he dismounted, looked around, and went straight to the back of a dirt slope.

"Shhhhhh" he whistled, released the sluice gate, and suddenly a slender figure emerged from the dirt slope.

The person who came was a female wildling, who was only fifteen or sixteen years old from her appearance, with a very slender figure. Her appearance was not very good-looking, but according to the aesthetics of the people at that time, she should not be ugly.

"My lord! I'm sorry..." The female wildling said softly. She obviously saw what Jaehaerys was doing at this time, and a blush climbed up her fair face.

Jaehaerys had no choice, but fortunately the reservoir had been emptied. He shook it left and right and put the gun into the warehouse.

"Beautiful lady, what can I do for you?"

"My lord..."

Jehaerys listened quietly to what the girl named Gilly said. As expected, she was the daughter and wife of Caster. She was pregnant now, but according to the speculation of her mother and sisters, she was very likely pregnant with a boy.

And Craster never showed mercy to his son, and always sacrificed him to the White Walkers!

In nature, even a male lion would not kill his underage son, and he was even worse than an animal.

Gilly hoped that Jaehaerys could take her away, and she was willing to pay the price for it.

"You are not wearing... the black clothes of the crows, maybe you can help me! As long as you can take me away, I can be your wife... or even your lover!" Gilly begged, which indirectly explained why the woman only asked him for help. It was too difficult to find a guy who was not a black man or a wild man north of the Wall!

"Be my wife? Or my lover..." Jaehaerys curled his lips. When choosing the green poet's vest, he used the fake shape technique in the seventy-two techniques to make his face plain, but even so, women could feel my diamond-like bright and beautiful heart through the skin...

It is difficult to give up natural beauty, women! They all covet my body!

Gilly looked pitiful, like a cute and pitiful kitten, but he didn't plan to take her away. After all, he was just the "Green Poet" Might Guy, not the prince of Dragonstone!

Besides, there are many pitiful people, why should I save you? Just because of your baby face, or your bulging chest due to pregnancy?

Well, it's undoubtedly a baby face, but this is not a reason!

More importantly, in the original plot, Gilly and Sam redeemed each other, and Sam was the key figure connecting the Wall, the Tarly family and the Citadel.

For Jaehaerys, he is always useful!

"My dear lady!" the green poet said politely, "In addition to being a bard, I am also a fortune teller... If you are willing to believe, in the near future, when darkness covers the earth, your true love will come out of the darkness and save you from blood and fire..."

"In my hometown, people will pray for the blessing of the gods, and the supreme dragon god will give his believers love and protection..."

He took out a dragon crystal dagger with a warm breath, and the handle was a finely carved image of the dragon god. Unlike ordinary dragon crystal daggers and amulets, this kind of protective dagger that can exorcise demons and attack at the same time has Taoist talismans carved on the blade, which is the same as the Taoist Sanqing Bell and peach wood sword.

After being played with for a long time by Jaehaerys, it has become a magic weapon, thus avoiding the end of the dragon crystal being broken at the slightest touch.

"This dagger is particularly effective against some monsters in the dark..." Jaehaerys carefully suggested. Finally, under his deception, Gilly carefully hid the dagger at her waist, and then touched her lower abdomen unnaturally, but her eyes revealed a hint of expectation...

Outside Winterfell.

"Madam, Robb!" The elderly Knight Rodrik knocked on the door. When the door inlaid with black iron door frame opened, a cold wind swept in from outside, making Catelyn shiver involuntarily.

She knelt in front of Bran's bed and prayed silently to the gods. Her eldest son Robb would take a little time every day to accompany his mother and dear brother.

"Sir, I'm sorry, I'll go to handle government affairs right away!" Robb said politely. Since Ned left Winterfell, he has followed the tall old knight to learn how to handle government affairs, and now he has a bit of the appearance of a lord.

These days, he seems to have matured a lot suddenly, as if Bran's accident and his mother's near collapse forced him to be strong.

"The soldiers caught a black deserter outside the city..." Roderick walked half a step behind Robb and whispered, "This is the fourth one this year!"

"Yes! The first three were all executed by my father, Duke Eddard!" Robb said seriously.

The Stark family follows the ancient tradition. They have the blood of their ancestors flowing in their bodies, and the person who sentences the death penalty must do it himself.

"If you want to take someone's life, at least you should look into his eyes and listen to his last words. If you can't do this, then maybe he is not guilty of death." Robb remembered what he said after watching his father kill the deserter last time. At that time, Jon, Bran, and Theon were all watching. It was also that time that Jon found six little wolves...

"I will execute the deserter myself..." Robb's voice was trembling, but he was determined!

They soon came to the outside of the castle. A thin old man in black clothes was tied up by the soldiers and lay on the ground motionless.

There were only two ugly and disgusting lumps of flesh at his ears, his face was haggard, his clothes were tattered, and his exposed skin was covered with chilblains, some of which were already oozing pus, with purple-blue edges.

Harris Moran dragged the prisoner from the ground to the iron stake, and the breath of the onlookers and horses intertwined into a steaming snow-white mist net in the cold air of the early morning. Robb took a two-handed sword from the hands of the castle coach.

"In the name of Robert I of the Baratheon family, the king of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the "First Men", the ruler of the Seven Kingdoms and the protector of the whole realm, I, the acting lord of Winterfell, Robb of the Stark family, hereby sentence you to death!"

He raised the sword above his head and looked into the old man's eyes, only to see a grayness in them, and his lips seemed to tremble slightly, but he couldn't hear what he was saying at all.

"He's just a deserter, but fortunately he didn't yell, which shows some courage!" After thinking this, he swung the giant sword in his hand and cut off the head of the condemned prisoner neatly, just like he had practiced countless times in the training ground.

Blood splattered on the snow, as red as the summer red of grape wine. The white snow beside the tree trunk sipped the blood thirstily, and quickly turned dark red under his gaze.

The soldiers carried the corpse outside the city, dug a pit and buried it. From beginning to end, no one heard that the old man was whispering "White Walker"!