Brynden Rivers was sitting in a dark wooden chair, shrouded in the shadows of the room. His white hair cascaded over his shoulders, while his single red eye glowed with a supernatural intensity. The crow-shaped mark on his face seemed to come alive in the darkness, accentuating his enigmatic appearance. The room was immersed in silence, with only the faint sound of the wind whispering outside. He patiently awaited the arrival of his spies, his mind already crafting plans and strategies. The darkness around him seemed to concentrate on his figure, as if he were the very lord of secrets. When the door creaked open, Brynden straightened up, ready to hear the news his servants would bring. He knew that each piece of information could be the key to unraveling the intrigues of his enemies. With a gesture, he signaled for them to enter, his penetrating gaze seeking the truth in the words that were about to come.