Duke Tywin frowned, and Ser Kevan looked over, giving a slight nod.
"My apologies, my lords."
After apologizing, Ser Kevan walked over to open the room door and saw Lancel Lannister, his eldest son who looked to be around his own age, with a panicked expression.
The moment the door opened, Lancel's alarmed voice immediately echoed into the study: "It's bad! The Direwolf's army attacked… uh… Father?"
Ser Kevan's composed face silenced Lancel; he was anxious to report immediately and only now realized the situation inside the room, the identities of those people… They seemed to be discussing important state affairs.
"Uh… uh…" Lancel opened his mouth, unsure what to say for a moment.
Ser Kevan couldn't help but sigh inwardly, because of Tyrion's absence, the Lannister had no choice but to promote Lancel, who spent all his time in the Sept.
His father understood his son; how could Lancel's abilities possibly replace the clever Tyrion, but the accident came too suddenly.
Looking at his eldest son, whose face had become haggard from severe injuries, Ser Kevan sighed inwardly again.
"Let him continue," Duke Tywin's voice came from behind.
Hearing this, Ser Kevan stepped aside, and Lancel, not daring to look at his father, walked straight in and bowed, saying, "Good day, my lords, I… I am…"
Duke Tywin glanced at Lancel, who was dressed too plainly and seemed nervous, and frowned, saying, "Don't waste our time."
Lancel's gaze swept around, and he saw: Lord Mace staring at him with authority, the Master of Ships looking down at the map, and Duke Green looking at him with a friendly expression.
He swallowed, and said, "Duke Tywin, a raven from the Earl of Duskendale just brought important news: yesterday morning, they suffered heavy losses from a raid by the North Cavalry."
After a pause, Duke Tywin spoke, "I understand, you may leave now."
"Yes, Your Grace, Duke Tywin."
After Lancel left, there was a moment of silence in the study, then Green suddenly heard a very soft sigh, and he realized it came from Lord Mace, and he also realized that Duke Tywin had heard it too.
Duke Tywin gave Lord Mace a cold glance, then broke the silence: "Kevan, in my name, summon all the free riders in King's Landing, go tell them their pay will be doubled."
As the Old Lion finished speaking, Green saw Lord Mace stroke his beard in approval and nod, and he couldn't help but curve his lips slightly.
"I'll arrange it immediately." Ser Kevan puffed out his chest and walked out directly.
Creak, the sound of the door closing.
Duke Tywin scanned those present and said calmly, "Gentlemen, let us continue."
...
Lancel was heading to the Royal Forest within the Red Keep, intending to repent for his instability today.
"Cousin Lancel."
Joffrey's call made Lancel stop in his tracks; the Sept was close by, but Joffrey arrived quickly, and he no longer had time to pretend he hadn't heard.
Joffrey's sorrel mount stopped in front of Lancel, snorting and shaking its head.
Stepping back two paces, Lancel put a hand to his chest and said, "Good day, King."
Joffrey sat in the saddle, looking down at Lancel, who seemed to have lost all desire, and pursed his lips, saying, "My Hound, do you know him? He is a Lannister Septon."
The Hound tugged on the reins and said, "He's no true Septon, King."
Joffrey immediately said furiously, "Of course I know, you damned Hound!"
After they finished speaking, Lancel calmly opened his mouth and said, "King, if there are no further commands, please allow me to take my leave."
He added, "May the Gods bless you."
Joffrey first froze, then chuckled, "Hound, you're wrong, he's more Septon than a true Septon."
He examined Lancel with interest for a while, then said, "I can give an order to help you, to make you a true Septon immediately."
Hearing this, Lancel couldn't help but take half a step back, unable to maintain his forced calm expression: "This… I need to ask Duke Tywin… first."
"Very well."
Hearing Lancel use Duke Tywin to threaten him, Joffrey's face instantly turned cold: "I want you to tell me, why were you rushing to the Prime Minister's Tower just now? What happened?"
Lancel sensed Joffrey's ill intent, he stepped back again, opened his mouth, and said, "So… sorry… this matter also requires Duke Tywin's permission."
Joffrey showed an expression as if he had already known he would react this way; he chuckled excitedly while reaching for a coiled rope hanging on the saddle and throwing it to the Hound.
"My Hound, go tie Lancel's hands with that, then give me the end of the rope, I want to take my Septon cousin for a walk."
The Hound glanced at the thick rope in his hand and said, "As you command, King."
The tall, strong Sandor dismounted and strode over, and Lancel, terrified, immediately fell to his knees: "King, please, I beg you, spare me."
Seeing Lancel almost scared to death by him, Joffrey chuckled, leaned forward, and said, "If you are honest, I will only make you run one lap, otherwise… I won't stop until your legs are broken."
"I… I…"
"Hound, what are you waiting for?!"
"No… don't… I'll tell… please… I'll tell…"
As Joffrey listened to Lancel's tearful confession, his face grew darker and darker.
Lancel continued: "…the villages near Duskendale were almost plundered; if they hadn't closed their gates in time…"
Joffrey no longer had the patience to listen, and even lost interest in the "toy" in front of him; he suddenly kicked his spurs, galloped away, and the Kingsguard followed closely behind.
As the sound of hooves faded, remembering Joffrey's expression when he left, Lancel realized he must have caused trouble for the Lannister.
His first reaction in a moment of urgency was to immediately find Queen Cersei, but his raised foot quickly lowered.
He had long been tired of Cersei, and his path of repentance was far from over; even if he died, he absolutely could not make the same mistake again.
Father, he couldn't implicate him.
Dong ~ Dong ~ Dong ~
At this moment, the melodious bells of the Great Sept of Baelor rang out, as if descending from the heavens.
Lancel trembled all over; he already had the Seven Gods, but why had he been so afraid just now? Standing there, he closed his eyes and prayed devoutly, also repenting for his shameful behavior.
Only peace remained on Lancel's face; taking off his boots, he stepped towards the Great Sept of Baelor, he would go on foot, which was also a repentance to the Gods above.
...
At the Prime Minister's Tower gate, Green, Lord Mace, and Lord Mathos walked out, surrounded by their guards.
Lord Mace looked back and sighed with emotion, "Duke Tywin is truly overworked…"
Listening to him, it sounded like he was concerned about Duke Tywin, but the astute Lord Greene heard the Golden Rose's schadenfreude.
Green coughed lightly and said, "After all, Duke Tywin bears the burden of the entire Seven Kingdoms."
Lord Mathos nodded and said, "Duke Tywin's strategy is correct; to deal with the North Cavalry, who are good at raiding, sending out cavalry can quickly track their movements and gain the initiative on the battlefield, but…"
"Yes, but."
Green looked at Lord Mathos and interjected, "If not led by numerous sworn knights, undisciplined free riders cannot defeat elite North Cavalry."
Lord Mace stroked his beard and also interjected, "Duke Tywin can only wait for the sworn knights from the Westerlands to arrive in King's Landing, otherwise… if there is another defeat on the battlefield, it might shake the morale of the Seven Kingdoms."
After speaking, he sighed deeply, and at the same time… he barely managed to suppress the corners of his mouth from turning up.
As they walked, Lord Mace put his hands behind his back and again sighed, "I never thought that the little Direwolf actually understood a bit about the art of war."
Lord Mathos first looked at Lord Mace, and after a short while, couldn't help but ask, "Lord Mace, forgive my presumption, but have you thought of a good method?"
Lord Mace stroked his beard, cleared his throat, and said, "If it were me, I would have long since arranged for heavy troops to enter the Riverlands; for such harassing cavalry, you cannot give them a chance to breathe."
After listening, Lord Mathos was slightly stunned; it seemed… it really was a good method.
Green nodded at this point and said, "Your meaning is… to compress their movement space… If Duke Tywin uses this method, the wolves will surely despair."
Lord Mathos blinked, but… he quickly thought of the problem of the "Tyrell art"; the Riverlands are very large… this tactic requires a large number of troops, and the Westerlands are not the Riverlands; they cannot gather such a large number of troops in a short time, moreover… the Westerlands had recently been swept by the House Stark-Tully.
Lord Mace looked smug, chatting and laughing with Duke Green, while Lord Mathos opened his mouth, but finally wisely chose to keep his dissent to himself.
As they approached the stables, they saw Margaery and her retinue of handmaidens; Green's eyebrows raised slightly, she seemed to be there for him.
Lord Mace quickened his steps, laughing heartily, "Oh, Margaery, I was wondering why I smelled a honey-like floral scent."
He spread his hands: "Oh, my daughter, you are truly beautiful today, you amaze me, praise the Gods."
Margaery walked over lightly, her beautiful eyes sparkling with pleasure, the corners of her mouth slightly upturned, revealing a row of white teeth.
Hearing her father's praise, she couldn't help but giggle, her clear laughter making one feel joyful.
She curtsied lightly: "Father, Duke Green, Lord Mathos, good day."
Everyone returned the bow, and Margaery reached out to take her father's arm, saying, "Father, the task you gave me, I have already begun to prepare for it."
Lord Mace paused in stroking his beard, puzzled, "Task? What task…"
He seemed to remember: "Oh, right, the Tyrell and Crabb trade, thank you for your trouble."
Margaery nodded gently, then looked at Green and said, "If your time allows, let us find a place to talk, Duke Green."
Green nodded slightly, a smile appearing on his face, and said, "Anytime, you are too thoughtful, Lady Margaery."
...
...
The second level of the Red Keep's dungeon is specifically for holding nobles, with small single cells.
Tyrion leaned against the cold wall and took a swig of wine; last night… he dreamed of Tysha (his ex-wife) smiling and kissing him.
He actually killed the Red Viper? This world is full of lies, his ex-wife told him this truth long ago, she was so good.
Tyrion scoffed and took another swig of wine.
Clang, the small window on the cell door suddenly opened, followed by the voice of Uncle Kevan: "Tyrion."
This cell had a bed with a cover, comfortable enough to lie on, and a small square table and a chair.
Tyrion moved the chair over, then climbed onto it; through the small window, he saw his tired-looking Uncle Kevan.
He grinned: "Ah ha, did the job of rebuilding the Dung Gate and the King's Gate fall to you? I know it's very troublesome there, because I've experienced it."
Ser Kevan sighed weakly, then paused and said directly, "Tyrion, the reconstruction affairs are indeed very important, but they cannot acquit you."
Tyrion naturally knew it was impossible, but he couldn't help but test him, because his experience was truly too "magical"; if it weren't for the gravity of the crime, he would actually be quite willing to admit it was true.
"Uncle Kevan, do you believe a drunk Dwarf killed the Red Viper, known throughout the Seven Kingdoms? He learned how to kill from a young age, and I… when I encounter a stronger woman, I can only beg for mercy."
Ser Kevan sighed again: "Yes, everyone knows there are many doubts, but… in the room there was only you, Prince Oberyn's mistress, and the corpse, many people saw you holding the murder weapon, all these prove… you are the killer."
Tyrion opened his mouth and said, "Didn't the Red Viper's mistress say anything unusual?"
Ser Kevan shook his head slightly and said, "If you want to clear your name, you must find evidence to prove you are not involved in this matter."
He looked at Tyrion: "These past few days, have you thought of anything?"
Tyrion scratched his hair and said, "I'm racking my brain, I only remember we drank a lot of wine, Prince Oberyn's mistress drank quite a bit with me, but she got drunk very quickly…"
He paused, then continued: "According to my father's orders, I diligently flattered the Martell Prince who had come a long way; I talked to him about all sorts of beautiful women, fine wines, and beautiful wines that interested him, and we chatted more and more happily, and drank more and more, and then, like most people who drink too much, I fell asleep without realizing it."
Ser Kevan was silent for a long while, then said, "Lord Tywin has decided to hold your public trial in seven days."
Tyrion's pupils constricted: "That fast?"
After another silence, Ser Kevan slowly said, "Not only is the evidence against you, but the situation outside is also very unfavorable to you; Robb Stark has recaptured Harrenhal, and his cavalry has appeared in Duskendale, which is very close to King's Landing."
He sighed once more: "The Lannister need time; we are not ready for a decisive battle."
Tyrion gripped the window frame tightly and said, "So, my amiable father, in order not to let Prince Doran become another Robb Stark, is he impatiently offering up his Dwarf son's head with both hands?"
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