"Haha…hiss…I really don't want to wake up. It's rare for our family to be so loving…"
As he spoke, Tyrion's tone was mocking: "There's no need for it to be in a dream. As long as I'm excluded, father loves brother, and brother loves sister. No wonder father and sister don't like me. It turns out my existence hinders the family's harmony."
He paused, then chuckled, "It's a pity the Lannister Giant didn't die."
Green said exasperatedly, "Mr. Giant, remember to bring guards when you go out from now on."
Tyrion chuckled and said, "Once I can get out of bed, I'll personally select a few people. I value my life very much, and I wouldn't dare to gamble on luck again."
Green smiled, picked up the wine pot, and poured wine for Tyrion.
Tyrion raised his cup, took a large gulp of wine, was silent for a moment, then said solemnly, "Green, thank you. I owe you my life."
Green's eyes trembled slightly, and a hint of confusion appeared on his delicate face: "I think you should be thanking Old Scholar."
"My sister's luck is really good…"
Tyrion murmured, then added, "Count, my brother has a sharp sword, but I have a big head. That damned Maester Pycelle kept feeding me poppy milk, and I only woke up when I heard your voice."
Green looked at Tyrion and sighed softly, "Tyrion, I underestimated your wisdom… I'm sorry, sometimes the truth is cruel, and you still need to recover from your injuries. Now is not a good time to tell you the truth."
Tyrion grinned, "I thought you'd cover for Cersei."
Green shrugged, "If such a thing were hidden, an unprepared person would sooner or later lose their life. Tyrion, we are friends, and I don't want to see you handled by the Silent Sisters."
"Hiss…haha…"
Tyrion grinned for a while and said, "When the time comes, you'll have to keep an eye on me. I don't want to… Never mind, that's my glory."
After he finished speaking, he revealed a lewd expression.
Green: "…"
After a few casual remarks, Tyrion suddenly said, "Green, aren't you worried about the Lioness's roar? If Cersei finds out someone interfered with her good deeds, she certainly won't let you off easily."
Green spread his hands, "Tyrion, do you think I had any other choice? I could have gone to Ser Jaime, but unfortunately, the Warden of the East was not in King's Landing at the time."
Tyrion laughed as if he was very happy: "What a pity."
After laughing, he said seriously, "What should I do? I'm sure you've already figured out how to deal with it."
Green nodded his chin lightly and slowly said, "It's common for a physician to be injured by a delirious severely wounded person during treatment. The Little Devil, though unconscious, remained very alert, seemingly sensing something was wrong… He suddenly woke up, struggled violently, and the result was Old Scholar losing a finger. The commotion was too great, so he had to stop his actions."
"Ha, what a good sister of mine."
Tyrion first sighed with emotion, then his eyes flickered, and he said, "Pycelle lost a finger?"
Green looked at Tyrion: "The Gods be praised."
Tyrion grinned, "Then we really have to thank the Gods."
Tyrion lowered his head in thought for a moment, then said, "Pycelle won't tell tales, will he?"
Green shook his head slightly: "Tyrion, you are a Lannister. Pycelle is more afraid of someone revealing this matter to the Old Lion of the Westerlands. You should know better than I what 'a debt repaid' means.
Moreover, our Queen never gave a direct order from beginning to end, or rather, Pycelle acted on his own initiative… So, he will do his best to persuade Queen Cersei."
Tyrion's eyes trembled. He took a sip of wine and said, "For your good, his good, everyone's good, it seems I still need to forget about this matter."
He scoffed, then continued, "The impression is too deep, and my head is big, but I still have to be a good brother as before. It's truly difficult."
Green leaned back in his chair and said, "A very wise choice, unless Duke Tywin is on your side."
"My father? I'd rather believe an Other would kiss me."
Although Tyrion's voice carried a hint of mockery, Green felt a suppressed rage.
The atmosphere in the room became somewhat heavy.
After a pause, Green smiled and said, "Tyrion, you truly are a Lion."
Tyrion looked up, gazing at Green with confusion.
Green spread his hands, a hint of disdain on his face.
"When I arrived, you were still unconscious. But not long after, you kept repeating the name of a certain beauty. I couldn't help but marvel at the time that even a wounded Lion doesn't forget his preferences."
Tyrion frowned; he had a vague impression.
"I thought bringing that beauty might even help your recovery. So, I specifically asked Maester Pycelle for his opinion, but he told me… given your injuries, even with a beauty present, you couldn't do anything; the Lion could only roar."
Tyrion grinned, "How do I feel like you don't have good intentions? Do you really want to see that scene?"
Green's lips curved slightly as he teased, "Tyrion, this is a rare opportunity. I even ordered my subordinates to bring her here to encourage your speedy recovery. It's a pity, these past few days they've searched all the brothels, big and small, and haven't found that beauty named Tessa."
Tyrion's smile stiffened; he remembered the dream where he saw Tessa.
Green glanced at the somewhat unnatural-looking Tyrion and said, "Tyrion, you're already awake. Don't expect me to run errands for you, and you need to continue recovering from your injuries. Now is not a good time to show the might of a Lion."
Tessa… that dream was too clear, and the memories he had deeply buried and refused to recall surfaced one by one. He remembered his first time with Tessa; she didn't know what to do, not much better than him… They kept bumping noses, and when they finally touched, he remembered her trembling all over.
… … … …
Tyrion's expression was bitter: "Green, there's no need to search, and I won't search. That was my former wife."
Green said in surprise, "Wife… You were married?"
Tyrion nodded slightly: "Yes, I remember that wedding. The officiant was a drunk monk, and the witnesses were a group of pigs. My wife and I used our witnesses to host the wedding feast. Tessa fed me bones, and I licked grease from her hands. After eating and drinking our fill, we laughed and tumbled onto the bed…"
Green frowned slightly and said, "It sounds wonderful, but the expression on your face tells me it wasn't wonderful."
Tyrion's voice was laced with mockery: "It was wonderful for a while… Heh, my wife, Lady Tessa."
Green poured wine into Tyrion's cup: "Did something happen? I've never heard you mention her."
Tyrion first drained more than half of the wine in his cup, then mused, "My Lady Tessa came from the Syvess family. Their family crest is a hundred and one coins on a blood-stained sheet, one hundred silver and one gold. Our marriage was very short-lived… For a Dwarf, this is probably retribution."
Green murmured, "The Syvess family…"
He pondered for a moment, then added, "A handful of silver coins? Tyrion, that's a very unfamiliar and strange family name."
Tyrion huffed, "Count Green, for the first time, I dislike smart people!"
… … … …
… … … …
Red Keep, Throne Room.
The Iron Throne was a large, ancient chair made of steel, full of menacing sharp spikes and strangely twisted metal.
Legend has it that Aegon the Conqueror had Balerion the Black Dread melt down thousands of swords discarded by his enemies when they surrendered to forge the Throne, and it took him a total of fifty-nine days of hammering and shaping. The final product was the current monstrosity, with razor-sharp edges, hooks everywhere, and a hunched, black, twisted form.
Duke Eddard sat on the high Iron Throne, dressed in a white linen tunic embroidered with the Stark's Direwolf sigil on his chest, and a black wool cloak fastened at his neck with a silver hand badge symbolizing the King's Hand.
The petitioners gathered by the great doors, knights and noblewomen stood beneath the tapestries, while commoners waited in the corridors. Armed guards, cloaked in gold or grey, stood tall and imposing around the Throne Room.
The Iron Throne's back, bristling with tooth-like spikes, offered no support. Duke Eddard thought this chair could kill… and if the legends were true, it actually had.
Duke Eddard felt that, as Robert had warned, this was a particularly uncomfortable iron chair.
It was said that when Aegon the Conqueror ordered his blacksmiths to forge a great chair from the surrendered weapons of his enemies, he had said… a king should not sit comfortably.
The longer Duke Eddard sat, the harder his backside felt.
That arrogant Aegon should die!
And Robert and his hunting games should die too… With Robert not in King's Landing, Duke Eddard had no choice but to temporarily sit on the Iron Throne and handle the petitions of the common folk.
… … … …
Varys, below the Throne, said softly, "Are you sure they are not bandits?"
A group of villagers knelt below, men, women, and children alike, all dressed in rags, covered in bloodstains, their faces etched with fear.
The middle-aged knight who brought the villagers in to testify snorted and said contemptuously, "Bandits? Lord Varys, well said, of course they are bandits! They are Lannister bandits!"
The atmosphere in the Throne Room grew tense, and everyone present, regardless of their social standing, held their breath and listened intently.
The knight accused, and the villagers testified.
It was said that a village on the northwestern border of the Riverlands had been burned, plundered, and massacred, suspected to be the former retainers of Gregor.
The middle-aged knight's eyes were full of sorrow. He pointed at the kneeling villagers and said, "Prime Minister, these are the only ones left in the entire village; all the other villagers are dead."
Duke Eddard swept his gaze over the group of people below and commanded, "All of you, stand up."
The Direwolf of the North never trusted words spoken by a man kneeling.
Everyone struggled to their feet, one old man needing assistance to stand.
"Lord, those masked men set fire to the houses, and they even tried to kill me, but they didn't catch me."
"They came rushing from the north in the middle of the night, and they burned down all the fields and houses!"
"Anyone who dared to step forward to stop them lost their life. But Lord, they weren't bandits, because they weren't there to steal anything. After they slaughtered my milk cows, they left the bodies there for flies and crows."
"They also trampled my child to death alive. They rode on horseback, laughing, chasing him around, and poking him with spears, as if playing a game. The child just ran and screamed without stopping, finally falling to the ground and being stabbed to death by that fellow's spear."
"Lord, they also killed my mother. Then they… they…"
The middle-aged knight added, "They didn't even spare women holding infants."
Varys exclaimed in shock, "Oh, how terrible, how could anyone be so cruel?"
Duke Eddard leaned forward, his voice laced with anger: "What evidence do you have to indicate they are from the Lannister family? Were they wearing red cloaks or flying the Lion banner?"
The villagers all shook their heads.
The middle-aged knight calmly replied, "Prime Minister, they were all riding warhorses and clad in armor, holding fine steel spears and swords, and battle-axes used to slaughter the villagers."
After speaking, he pointed to one of the villagers in the group and said, "You, yes, you, it's okay to speak, tell the Prime Minister everything you told me."
The villager lowered his head and said, "Lord, they were all riding warhorses. I used to work in a stable for many years and could tell the difference. Not a single one of the horses they rode had ever plowed a field, I swear by the Gods."
Pycelle, below the Throne, stammered, "Hand Eddard, those horses could also have been stolen by bandits from somewhere else."
Duke Eddard ignored Pycelle and asked the villagers, "How many of these bandits were there?"
"Many people."
"Fewer than the villagers, but they had many horses."
"50 people… I guess."
"Hundreds, Lord!"
The villagers discussed amongst themselves.
The middle-aged knight first waved his hand to silence them, then said, "Prime Minister, at least 100 people, and each of them had a horse."
"You said they didn't fly banners… What about their armor? Did any of you notice any patterns or decorations on it, or house sigils on their shields and helmets?"
The middle-aged knight shook his head: "Prime Minister, as far as I know, the armor they wore was all very plain. But…"
He scanned the surrounding crowd and said loudly, "When that group of people were burning and killing, I heard them shout several times… 'Avenge Lord Gregor!' Only Gregor's former retainers would call Gregor Clegane 'Lord Gregor'!"
Buzz!
Whispers rose from beneath the windows and the far end of the hall, and uneasy murmurs also came from the corridor outside.
Maester Pycelle's chain of office clinked constantly: "Sir Knight, others might also know that custom of address, because others could intentionally shout it that way."
Varys also echoed, "Yes, this will make our Prime Minister very difficult. You had best have more direct evidence."
Duke Mace Tyrell, who had been sitting quietly to one side, stood up. The Golden Rose sigil on his person gleamed, and everyone's gaze converged on him. The hall gradually quieted.
Duke Mace's face was grim. He puffed out his chest and said coldly, "Pycelle, Varys, your doubts are irrelevant! Duke Stark, Tyrell maintains peace in the Riverlands in the King's name. Regardless of whether the people who disrupted the peace are Lannister or not, I demand blood for blood in the name of the Duke of Highgarden, to seek justice for the villagers of the Riverlands."