Chapter 42

The Neck,
That same evening

“Lynesse, why are you here?” Ser Jorah finally found the words to confront his former wife.

“I am here to ... reconcile with my husband, if that’s at all possible. I have ... made ... mistakes. I have been wrong about you. I thought that you lacked ambition. I thought that you were content to just live in exile from Bear Island in an austere, miserly existence, and that wasn’t for me. In Braavos, of all places. Now, however, I find you ... here, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard! That is astonishing to me and more than deserves my respect. They say that you captured White Sword Tower in King’s Landing personally! I am in awe, husband!” Lynesse assured Ser Jorah now.

“You’re not my wife anymore, milady. You’re my former wife. The Kingsguard don’t have wives, don’t father children, and don’t hold any land or property. They inherit nothing. They live at the mercy and grace of the King. And Queen, in my case. I was her chief follower for the longest time. Look, I don’t have time for the life of luxury that you clearly need and crave. The fame. The glory. The pomp and circumstance. That’s not me. I’m a knight. I’m a soldier. That’s me. That’s my life.

“Yes, I took White Sword Tower, for my King and Queen, for their glory and their splendor and their honor and their victory, and for the greater good of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros! My life, the life of a soldier, even on my own holdfast in Bear Island, that was always going to be a hard one, a simple, frugal one. That’s how a good soldier lives, how he keeps sharp, keeps his edge! I’ve tried luxury and decadence a time or two in my life ... and it always corrupted and weakened me. That’s not what I wish to be.

“Did you even care or notice that I caught greyscale? That I nearly died of it, but was saved by a young maester named Samwell Tarly, the same one who’s now Grand Maester on the Small Council? Did you know or care that I was caught and sold into slavery, and nearly died in the fighting pits of Meereen? Did you know or care that I nearly died of thirst and hunger in the Red Waste of Essos? What do you know of what has happened to me since we parted, milady?” Ser Jorah informed her rather coldly.

“All of that may well be true, but I am still your wife, Ser Jorah. We were never truly divorced. There was no annulment, either. I am still lawfully your wife and you are still my husband. Just because you’ve fallen for a Queen who can never give you herself, her body and soul, especially not her heart, doesn’t mean that you’re hers. You’re mine, Ser Jorah, just as I am yours. And I’ve come back to get what belongs to me,” Lynesse persisted, still a bit shaken that Ser Jorah didn’t just fall at her feet in gratitude for getting her back.

“No, I’m not yours anymore ... and you’re not mine. You ceased to be mine and I ceased to be yours when you deserted me for that Lysene ponce, what was his name again? Probably some perfumed pimp from a pleasure house. I have nothing against whores, but I am now against slavers, at the risk of being a hypocrite about that. I only sold people into bondage because they were criminals and I wanted to sustain you in your life of luxury and extravagance. And look what I got for it? Exile and disgrace.

“We might not be formally divorced, but I’m not your husband anymore. That man died years back. I am no longer that man. I was reforged from the hottest fires, the dross burned away, a new and better knight pulled from the smelting flame. I am no longer pathetically desperate for your love, your affection, your approval. I no longer care what you want or need from me. Those days are over. I lived through Hells that could be added to the Seven or even replace them.

“In the meantime, you’ve lived in your own paradise of luxury and ease. You’ve lived with your Lysene merchant-prince, enjoyed everything that he had to offer you, indulged in every form of comfort, leisure, and sumptuary excess. I don’t begrudge you that. You chose that life. It is yours to embrace and it keeps shopkeepers and tailors fat and happy. There is a place for pricey courtesans in this world and that is what you are at heart.

“What I do is begrudge you coming back as if nothing has changed and you can just pick up where you left, a life where you order me about and nag me to ask for things for which I have neither the right nor the need. By the old gods and the new, we’re at war, woman! Look around you and see that larger things are at stake! We could all be wights or White Walkers in time, and we will be if we lose!” Ser Jorah insisted rather brutally.

“Fairy tales ... fables ... superstitions ... no proof! I am offering you something real, tangible ... here and now, before you go off to fight your mythical foe! Live or die, you can have ... this again,” Lynesse reminded him of her most potent weapons, discarding her clothes before his very eyes.

“At what price? We’ve established that you’re a whore. Let’s not quibble over that. I don’t judge you for that, as I’ve said. But name your price and let me see if you can stomach what I offer you instead. I won’t sacrifice everything that matters to me just to have you back,” Ser Jorah held his ground, despite understandably admiring her naked flesh.