"If I was Lord Arryn, I'd have killed the bastard myself," Rick Snagwell spat in Lysa's face.
Merrick wrung him around the neck and threw Rick to the ground, cursing indecipherably. Merrick punched his face furiously with a mailed fist until it no longer struck solid bone. With his hand dripping, he spat on the body and turned away.
Lysa had remained calm throughout the entire incident. "Very good," she began calmly. "You found the last who meant to kill my poor sweet Robert. You have my gratitude, and I am now ready for you to decide who will have my hand."
The lords in the room began exchanging confused glances at her choice of words. As they mumbled about what she meant, the guards in the room rounded up the women in the room at swordpoint. The men knew better than to challenge them unarmed.
The great doors to the chamber opened and the women were escorted out. The doors were shut and barred before more guards came in to take the stations of the first guards. Each carried an extra sword.
Lysa looked at each of them individually and nodded in turn. After the last glance, they all advanced to the middle of the room and dropped the extra swords in a pile, creating a cacophony of metal screaming against metal and stone.
She then turned her attention back to the group of survivors and gave a single command. "Decide."
The Loyals have found and killed all of the traitors, though their own fate remains uncertain. LOYALS WIN.
EPILOGUE
Dearest Lysa,
I regret to inform you that matters in King's Landing demand my attention for longer than I originally thought. The most unfortunate death of your husband Lord Arryn does present us an opportunity though.
Jon's bannermen no doubt mean to challenge you. They will scoff if you take no side in the coming war. Many do not trust his seat in your hands. Even more doubt that young Lord Robert will ever be fit to take his charge of Warden of the East.
Until I am able to leave the city and take my place by your side, I suggest an invitation to them under the guise that they may take your hand and hold his seat, also giving the young Lord the proper example they all feel he needs.
Pit them against one another. Found out those that mean to take the Vale by force. No doubt your methods may turn even those who held their oaths true. It is the risk we take. I trust your discretion in dealing with those matters until I am able to take my leave of these distractions.
Until then my love,
Petyr
