Uncle and nephew looked at each other again. After a pause, Ser Kevan saw hot tears overflowing from Tyrion's eyes.
He sighed and said, "The steward of Casterly Rock put her on a merchant ship bound for the other side of the Narrow Sea."
Hearing this, Tyrion stared into Ser Kevan's eyes and said word by word, "Tywin didn't kill her. She's alive, right?"
Ser Kevan frowned and said, "Your father is the Lord of Casterly Rock. He wouldn't necessarily have to kill a… girl."
Noticing his nephew's suspicious look, he added, "Your grandfather's mistress, Tywin also punished her and then exiled her from the Westerlands, but he didn't take her life."
Releasing Ser Kevan, Tyrion turned around. He leaned his hands on the bed frame, silent for a while, then slowly began: "Cersei and Jaime… watch them both… they are incestuous…"
Ser Kevan's hand, holding the wine cup, paused, and a small amount of red liquid spilled onto the table.
He was unwilling to believe: "Jaime… how could Jaime do such a thing, Tyrion? He's your brother, he loves you, you can't…"
"Unbelievable, isn't it?"
Tyrion tilted his head slightly, his voice a little hoarse: "Before, I was secretly cleaning up their messes. From now on, it's up to you. A little investigation will show you if it's true."
He turned back, grinning: "This is the real laughingstock."
After a pause, Ser Kevan took a sip of wine, calmly put down the cup, and said, "I will investigate…"
His gaze suddenly sharpened: "Who else knows about this?"
Tyrion slowly exhaled and said, "The only good news is that they're still somewhat cautious… Perhaps Lancel knows something. If I weren't about to be beheaded, I would take this to my grave."
His expression was conflicted for a while, then he added, "Uncle, as a thank you for always caring for me… I want to warn you that my good nephew is becoming more and more like… Mad King Aerys II. I'm sure you must have noticed it too. Watch Joffrey carefully. When he is alone with… Tywin, you must think more about safety issues. Based on my experience…"
He pinched his chin and forced a smile: "Never treat him as a King; treat him as a child who needs strict discipline from adults. Only then will he not dare to go mad."
Looking at his Dwarf nephew, Ser Kevan's face was complex. Tyrion was Tywin's true heir, not Jaime.
"I will take note."
Ser Kevan stood up, looked at his nephew, sighed, and continued, "Tyrion, is there anything I can do for you?"
"Are you asking for my last wish, uncle?"
Tyrion thought for a moment, then shook his head: "I don't have anything… Hmm… I do… I hope… you can take good care of Tommen and Myrcella, including my share."
Nodding, Ser Kevan moved his feet. He stopped at the cell door, his back to Tyrion, and said, "I will not come to see you again, my nephew."
After speaking, he knocked on the door, and once it opened, he strode out.
Looking at the re-closed cell door, Tyrion murmured, "I'm sorry… my uncle…"
No sadness tonight… Tyrion rubbed his face with both hands, cheering himself up.
…
Less than an hour later, with a creak, the cell door opened again, and Tyrion welcomed his second guest—Joffrey Baratheon.
Tyrion humbly knelt: "King, thank you for your mercy."
Joffrey, dressed in Gold Cloaks attire, removed his helmet. He looked at the Dwarf with disdain, his lips pouting: "Do you need me to pardon you, uncle?"
Tyrion looked up, his eyes full of affection: "I asked to see you not to trouble you, King."
Hearing this, Joffrey asked in confusion, "What do you mean?"
Tyrion stood up, hesitated, and said, "The one who truly wants to kill me is Hand of the King Tywin. He won't allow you to pardon me."
Joffrey immediately became angry: "I am the King! What right does he have to control me?!"
"I know… I know…"
Tyrion looked at his nephew with tear-filled eyes: "Joffrey, you are not yet of age. You must be patient for now. I regret that I cannot witness your ascension to power firsthand…"
Tyrion's heartfelt words were met with a cold snort from Joffrey. He looked around the dim and cramped cell and said, "Don't try to use such petty tricks to gain my forgiveness. Even if your grandfather doesn't cut off your head, I will eventually."
His face twisted: "Now everyone knows you hit me. You must die, you damned Dwarf!"
Tyrion sincerely explained: "I had no choice but to do that, Joffrey. I had reasons why I had to do it…"
"Shut up!"
Joffrey suddenly gripped the hilt of his sword—the Lion's tooth sword—which made Tyrion involuntarily step back, tripping over his left and right feet, almost falling.
Seeing Tyrion in such a sorry state, Joffrey chuckled: "You really are a cowardly clown."
Standing straight, Tyrion secretly clenched his fists, then smiled obsequiously: "Please forgive my rashness, merciful King."
Joffrey impatiently waved his hand: "I don't have time to waste with you. Didn't you send someone to tell me you have a way to make Hand of the King Tywin obey? Tell me quickly…"
As he spoke, he suddenly paused, then said angrily, "Dwarf, are you deceiving me? If you had such a way, why would you still be beheaded?"
Tyrion quickly dispelled Joffrey's suspicion: "That's because I'm not the King."
Joffrey stared at Tyrion's sincere but ugly face for a moment, then snorted disdainfully and said, "Tell me quickly, what is the way?"
Tyrion cleared his throat and said, "Joffrey, you are not Robert I's son."
Joffrey first froze, then… with a clang, he drew his sword and slashed at Tyrion.
Tyrion rolled on the ground, narrowly dodging the sword. He spoke quickly: "Let me finish…"
"Shut up!" Joffrey's Lion's tooth sword thrust down.
Tyrion was a step faster than Joffrey, jumping onto the bed, narrowly dodging again.
"Don't hide!"
Joffrey raised his sword to strike, and Tyrion quickly picked up a pillow and threw it with all his might: "You will die by Tywin's hand!"
Pfft!
The sharp Lion's tooth collided with the pillow, and instantly, the goose feathers filling the pillow burst out like a breaching flood, scattering everywhere.
Tyrion said breathlessly, "Listen to me, then you can do whatever you want with me!"
As the white goose feathers filled the air, it was like a sudden, gentle blizzard, carrying a touch of absurdity after a dangerous incident.
Joffrey shook off the goose feathers that had landed on his head, also breathlessly, and said, "Very well, I will make you taste the consequences of humiliating the King."
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