chapter 189 part 1
Chapter 189: Glyn's Proposal 4
Jon Snow caught the waterskin Young Griff tossed over. He opened the stopper and began to drink; he was indeed thirsty.
"Aren't you worried it's poisoned?"
"Cough, cough..." Jon, who was in the middle of gulping, choked on the drink.
Young Griff first let out a hearty laugh, then said with a grin, "Jon, what you're drinking is definitely fine, but I must remind you to be careful of poisons on this continent."
Jon grimaced and glanced at the waterskin in his hand before taking another swig and stuffing the stopper back in.
"I'll be careful."
Jon passed the waterskin back. He noticed that Young Griff's eyelashes were as long as his sister Sansa's, and his features had a delicate handsomeness similar to Lord Glynn's, lacking a certain... manliness... Jon suddenly recalled the period when Glynn had beaten him so badly it made him question his own existence... One could not judge strength by appearance... Jon grimaced once more.
Young Griff took the waterskin and hung it back on his belt. "Cheer up, Jon," he said. "I'm sure you'll come to like it here soon."
A faint smile appeared on Jon's face. He shook his head and said, "I was just thinking about some things from the past, Young Griff."
Rory laughed loudly and said, "Everyone's like that when they first leave home. Tonight, I'll take you to a great place. I guarantee you'll be happy all night and won't feel homesick ever again."
Hearing Rory's words, Jon's mind immediately went to a brothel. He had never forgotten his Uncle Eddard's teachings, so he prepared to politely decline Rory's kind offer.
Young Griff seemed to have already read something from Jon's face. He chuckled and explained, "Don't misunderstand, Jon. It's not the kind of place you're thinking of. He's talking about the bonfire gathering in the port town. They hold one every week, singing and dancing together. It's lively all night long."
He added, "Everyone can join in, and no one will ask where you're from. We're in luck; tonight happens to be one of those nights full of laughter."
Rory grinned widely. "What are we waiting for?"
...
That night, men and women danced joyfully around a bonfire. The sounds of merry laughter and upbeat music made the place feel incredibly festive.
Young Griff and Rory had long since joined the boisterous dance floor. Jon, having refused one invitation after another, sat in a slightly distant corner... drinking alone.
Jon watched the lively crowd with a smile in his eyes... He actually wanted to join in, but for some reason, he could never muster that final bit of courage.
"Heh, do you need to drink to work up your nerve?"
"Cough, cough..." Startled by the sudden voice of a young woman, Jon couldn't help but cough, partly to cover up his embarrassment.
Jon looked up... She had a head of beautiful, curly red hair. Her tan skin radiated a vibrant glow, giving him a very lively impression.
Men of the North didn't know the art of clever words. He painfully admitted, "You're right. I want to join, but I lack the courage."
The red-haired girl's voice was vivacious. "If you keep drinking like this, you'll probably just end up sleeping here! Come on, I'll be your courage, shy boy!"
Jon muttered in a voice only he could hear, "I'm not shy..."
The red-haired girl grabbed his hand. Jon stood up, somewhat dazed, and let her pull him along obediently.
...
Entering the dance area, the red-haired girl let go of Jon's hand. She spun nimbly, her long skirt fluttering with her movement like a blooming flower. The people around them had friendly smiles, and they made space for her and him.
The red-haired girl looked at Jon, who was staring at her. Her eyes were as bright as stars as she began to dance gracefully.
Her movements were lively and agile, like a small bird soaring, seemingly leaping through the air. The crowd cheered for her. Her passion and vitality infected everyone present, including Jon.
The red-haired girl took Jon's hand again. "My boy, have you found your courage yet?"
Her smile was pure and brilliant, and Jon felt a warmth like the summer sun.
Jon tightened his grip on the red-haired girl's hand. He smiled and nodded. "I've found it."
With the sun-like girl by his side, Jon clumsily danced along with the crowd.
Jon saw Young Griff, trapped and unable to escape the heavy encirclement of numerous girls, and the other girls who were fleeing from the approaching, brawny Rory. He laughed aloud at their misfortune.
Jon laughed heartily. He had never been so happy.
...
Inside the tent, Jon lay alone on his bed, his hands pillowed behind his head, a faint smile lingering at the corners of his mouth.
The bonfire gathering had ended, and the night was deep, but Jon still couldn't fall asleep. The red-haired girl had left his heart in turmoil.
The tent flap was suddenly pushed open, and a petite figure entered the tent.
Jon's hand moved away from his sword hilt. He murmured, "Is that you?"
The red-haired girl sat down on top of Jon in one smooth motion. She leaned down, her small face right in front of his.
Jon's body stiffened. "Your father..."
The red-haired girl let out a laugh like silver bells. "He went out fishing tonight. He deliberately didn't tell me."
She continued, "Boy, my name is Lenore, a fisherman's daughter."
Feeling Lenore's warmth, Jon moved his lips and said, "I'm Jon, a... bastard from Westeros."
"You're not a noble?"
"Sorry..."
"No, I'm so happy..."
"I'm sorry, I thought..."
"I want to find a handsome husband. Since you're not a noble, will you marry me?"
The girl's small face disappeared from Jon's line of sight.
"...Tell me..."
"Hah... I like you."
"Do... you... really? Jon..."
"...Mmm... I'm sure of it... I've fallen in love with you."
That night, the tent was filled with their passion.
...
...
A week later, at dawn.
The *Mermaid*, the ship Glynn was on, slowly docked at the pier of Dragonstone under the "escort" of the royal fleet.
Inside the sterncastle cabin, Glynn looked at Brother Jaril, whose expression was slightly uneasy (Chapter 115).
"Brother Jaril, please do not leave the cabin."
Looking at the well-prepared Glynn, Brother Jaril urged in a low voice, "Lord Glynn, Dragonstone is filled with a murky red color. It is fraught with danger. I am willing to refuse their invitation on your behalf."