Kal stroked his chin. "Actually, I intend for him to inherit House Clegane. My only condition is that he swear loyalty to me."
But Tyrion did not understand Kal's idea.
"That doesn't seem necessary, does it?"
"House Clegane's reputation has never been good, Kal. There's no need for you to stain your own name."
Tyrion thought Kal meant to use this as a way to open a foothold into the Westerlands.
He had to admit, Tyrion was clever and perceptive.
Kal indeed thought so too.
But regarding this foothold, Kal's reasoning differed from Tyrion's.
He merely smiled and asked, "Then what's your opinion of Sandor Clegane as a man?"
Tyrion frowned, then after a moment firmly nodded. "Loyal. Though he's not a knight, in some ways he's more honorable than one."
Seeing Tyrion's assessment of Sandor Clegane, Kal smiled.
"That's why I chose him."
"I've heard a story—supposedly, most of the deaths within House Clegane were caused by Gregor Clegane himself, including Sandor Clegane's father."
"And even his face was burned when his brother Gregor Clegane pressed it into a brazier."
"So you think that's why, after hearing the Mountain was dead, he went mad wanting to see you?" Tyrion understood Kal's reasoning.
Kal smiled faintly. "I'll give him a chance."
"And at the same time, I'll give the Westerlands nobles who've also come to King's Landing a chance. Tyrion, within the next two days, help me organize a banquet—they will be my main guests."
"Right now I need them to show their stance. I don't want to waste time dragging things out on such matters."
Tyrion hadn't expected Kal's move to consolidate the Westerlands to be so swift and domineering. For a moment, he furrowed his brow and fell into thought.
Yet after thinking seriously for a while, Tyrion suddenly realized this truly was an excellent opportunity.
The Iron Throne had won the war, morale was high, and Kal El himself stood at the peak of glory.
But the Westerlands lay battered and broken, a scattered mess.
In such a situation, if they didn't cut through the chaos now and settle the plans for the Westerlands—distinguishing those merely feigning loyalty from those who were truly obstinate—then waiting until everyone recovered their strength and reconnected would be pure folly.
Understanding Kal's intent, Tyrion could only sigh inwardly.
The change of dynasty in the Westerlands was already destined.
Faced with someone like Kal El—whose strength was extraordinary and whose intellect surpassed ordinary men—if those Westerlands nobles still failed to see the situation clearly, then there would be no future left for them at all.
...
From the market square beside the Riverside Gate, Steel Street stretched onward. Kal and his companions threaded their way through the crowded road, and many who recognized him would stop to greet him.
Kal's name now resounded throughout the Seven Kingdoms, and in King's Landing, it was known to all.
Moreover, before he had become a Ser and the Lord of Casterly Rock, he could barely be counted as one of those commoners who had once struggled to make a living alongside them.
For that reason, these smallfolk all felt a peculiar fondness toward this bastard-born hero who had once saved King's Landing.
Although Kal did not think of himself that way, it was clear that these commoners did not share his view.
That said, Kal did not dislike the fact that he held such influence among the people and was regarded with such warmth by them.
On the contrary, he rather enjoyed this feeling so full of the scent of ordinary life—unlike speaking with nobles, where every word required scheming, wary of deceit and hidden plots.
The Riverside Gate—though that was the name marked on the maps—was commonly called the "Muddy Gate" by the townsfolk.
For being connected to the docks and closely tied to the fish market beyond the city walls, its name fit its nature perfectly.
Kal was glad he had come out on horseback; otherwise, his fine clothes would surely have been ruined.
Watching Kal pause from time to time to respond to the greetings of vendors, Tyrion felt somewhat amazed.
Although the two were friends, most of their previous meetings had taken place in taverns or brothels. To stroll down the streets together like this—truth be told, it had never happened before.
It was the first time Tyrion saw this different side of Kal.
It made him feel a faint trace of emotion now and then, though he himself did not quite know what he was thinking of.
As they rode slowly through the crowd, greeting people along the way, Kal's gaze wandered idly around the surroundings.
He would even stop occasionally, buying small trinkets and chatting a few words with the vendors.
At first, Tyrion paid little attention, but as Kal went on stopping, looking, and talking, he gradually began to feel impatient—until suddenly, he realized what was happening.
"You're gathering information?"
Seeing that Tyrion had only now caught on, Kal did not answer. Instead, he first handed a few copper stars from his pocket to the little boy who had sold him a small trinket.
Sam came up to put away the things he had just bought.
"Although I'm not the Spider, and gathering intelligence isn't my work, as Master of Coin, I suppose it's still within my duty to have a proper understanding of such matters."
Kal clapped his hands, turned his head, and glanced at Tyrion.
Then he continued, "But for now, things seem to be looking good. As you can see, many merchants have come to King's Landing—some even from beyond the Seven Kingdoms."
"Their arrival and spending let the smallfolk earn a little more money, which can greatly improve their lives."
Seeing that Tyrion had discerned his intent, Kal smiled and explained briefly, then, amid the delighted cheers of the child, continued toward his destination.
Watching Kal's departing back, Tyrion couldn't help but look again at the child who was holding tightly to the few extra copper stars Kal had deliberately given him, overjoyed as he hurried to share his happiness with his mother.
Something flickered in Tyrion's eyes.
"No wonder you've won their love and favor. The previous Masters of Coin never thought for their sake."
Kal was not walking fast, and Tyrion soon caught up again.
"To win their affection is simple. Whoever treats them well, they will revere."
"Just like this."
Hearing Tyrion's meaningful words, Kal merely smiled, teasing a young girl who happened to be passing by.
This drew hearty laughter from several burly vendors nearby.
Tyrion watched as he handed the sugar flower he had just bought to her, praising her as the most beautiful woman he had seen that morning.
At Kal's words, Tyrion's face turned pensive, and he fell silent.
On the street, a mummer was walking on stilts, striding through the crowd like some giant insect.
Behind him followed a group of barefoot children, shrieking and chasing the "monster" with glee.
Elsewhere, two ragged boys about Bran's age were sparring back and forth with wooden sticks.
The crowd around them shouted encouragement, though some cursed angrily.
In the end, an old woman stuck her head out from a window and dumped a bucket of wash water over the two boys' heads, finally bringing the "duel" to an end.
Under the shadow of the city wall, peasants stood by their carts, calling out loudly, "Apples! Fine apples here! Even if the price were twice as high, you'd still find them cheap!"
"Turnips, onions, potatoes—come, come! Turnips, onions, potatoes—fresh and cheap!"
The cries of all kinds of vendors rose one after another.
Besides the common fruits and vegetables, there were of course others selling more curious goods. "Come buy blood melons—sweet as honey!"
"How much for your melons?" Hearing the commotion, a man came to buy some. "Are they ripe?"
The vendor glanced at him warily, recognizing that he wasn't a local. "I sell melons—would I sell you unripe ones?" He then raised three fingers. "Three copper stags apiece!"
"Damn your mother, are the rinds of your melons made of gold or the seeds made of gold?"
"Hey—watch your tongue! These melons come all the way from Myr, and they're just right for cooling off!"
"Bullshit! I'm from Myr myself, and I've never heard of such a thing!"
"You're looking for trouble, aren't you!"
Seeing the two about to start a brawl in the street, the men Kal had brought with him stepped forward and quickly subdued them both on the spot.
Then the two were brought before Kal.
Looking at the pair who had just enacted a vivid scene of "buying and selling," Kal's gaze turned stern as it fell upon the melon vendor.
"From now on, trade in the market must be fair. Anyone who cheats or overcharges—be careful, or I'll have him hung up by the docks and flogged."
After scolding the vendor, Kal turned his gaze to the traveler, dripping with sweat in the heat, who had only wanted a melon to quench his thirst.
"If you come across something unfair in the streets again, don't cause a scene. Leave evidence and go to the Gold Cloaks—they'll see justice done for you."
The gathered townsfolk, watching the dispute settled, cheered and clapped loudly when the hero who had saved King's Landing—Lord Kal—upheld justice for them, voicing their full support.
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