The Black Kitten is a brothel that only appeared on Silk Street in the last two years. Its unique feature is that all the prostitutes come from the Summer Isles.
Their exotic dark skin and agile bodies, distinct from the delicate figures of common prostitutes, give people a sense of primitive wildness.
Tyrion is a regular at the Black Kitten; he enjoys this exotic charm and loves the feeling of being surrounded and embraced by a group of agile women, which gives him a sense of security he's never experienced before.
For the past half-month since returning from the North, he has almost exclusively stayed at the Black Kitten, practically treating it as his home.
Normally at this time, he would be dead drunk, sleeping with some girls until late at night, and then continuing to drink, but today, he was surprisingly sober and had tidied himself up early from among the girls, cleaned himself, put on a proper outfit, and waited in the courtyard.
"By the Seven Gods, Tyrion, what's wrong with you today? Have you received a revelation from the Seven Gods and decided to become an ascetic?" Jenny, the proprietress of the Black Kitten, looked at the unusually different Tyrion today with immense confusion and asked.
Tyrion smiled and said, "A friend is coming to see me today; I need to be presentable so as not to embarrass myself."
"A friend?" The proprietress, Jenny, was stunned. She had known Tyrion for quite some time and clearly understood that Tyrion had no real friends; even those who usually hung out with him were only interested in the Lannister family's gold coins.
She also knew Tyrion's attitude towards those people; even though Tyrion seemed as close as brothers with them when drinking and having fun, she could tell that Tyrion didn't truly regard them, looking at them as if they were pets he owned.
Therefore, it was absolutely impossible for him to make such changes for those so-called friends, let alone emerge from a pile of women and wait formally dressed in the courtyard.
"Male or female?" The proprietress couldn't help but ask curiously.
"Male," Tyrion replied, then as if remembering something, he said, "Oh, right, my friend doesn't like to drink. Could you prepare some plain water, boiled… No, never mind, boiled water takes time to cool down, and my friend might arrive at any moment.
You should just make some fresh fruit juice! Use a new juicer, not one that others have used."
Hearing Tyrion's instructions, the proprietress could sense the importance of this friend, and her curiosity grew, but she didn't ask further, turning to prepare the juice.
Soon after she had instructed someone to prepare the juice, she heard her subordinates say that someone was looking for Tyrion, so she put down what she was doing and ran to the side of the courtyard, curiously looking at the person being led into the courtyard by the shop's servant.
Although there were four people entering the courtyard, the two guards following them were certainly not the person Tyrion was waiting for, and the little girl shouldn't be either, so it was clearly the tall, ordinary-looking noble.
Upon seeing the noble's face, the proprietress suddenly felt a sense of familiarity, as if she had seen him somewhere before, but she couldn't remember where until her gaze swept over the Seven Gods' holy emblem on the wall, and she suddenly recalled the statue she had seen in the Great Sept of Baelor.
"By the Seven Gods, it's him!" The proprietress instantly realized that the friend Tyrion was waiting for was the Godsworn of the Seven Gods, Linde Terra, the incarnation of the storm god.
Although the proprietress often said, "By the Seven Gods," she was actually a follower of the storm god.
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