Gripping the hilt tightly, Joffrey stared at Tyrion for a moment, then said, "You're not asking me to pardon you?"
Tyrion did not look up: "I know very well the consequences of resisting the Old Lion. I would rather be beheaded than be humiliated by him again. That is more painful than death. And…"
His voice was slightly choked: "Although you dislike me, I cannot… and am unwilling to implicate my nephew."
"I should cut off your hands and feet before I cut off your head."
Joffrey put on a Gold Cloaks helmet: "You stay here and make your deathbed confession, Dwarf."
Tyrion lowered his head even further: "Thank you for your mercy, King."
Joffrey walked to the cell door: "If you want a quick death, shut your mouth."
Tyrion humbly adjusted his kneeling direction: "Joffrey Baratheon, you will always be the King of the Seven Kingdoms."
After a moment of silence, Joffrey sheathed his sword and kicked the door panel.
The cell door was quickly opened, revealing Ser Mandon Moore, a Kingsguard also dressed in Gold Cloaks armor, outside.
With a clang, the cell door closed. Tyrion remained motionless for a while before slowly exhaling.
Stumbling to his feet, Tyrion climbed onto the chair, picked up the wine pot, and poured a full cup of wine.
Gulp, gulp, he drained it in one go.
He had to admit that Joffrey, compared to before, finally had a bit of his own cunning… Hmm, he had become a true Cersei II.
No emotions tonight… Rubbing his face, Tyrion forced himself to cheer up.
…
After midnight, there was a sound from outside the cell door, and Tyrion welcomed his third guest—Jaime Lannister.
Entering the cell, Ser Jaime looked around, then said to his glaring brother, "Have you taken up playing with feathers?"
Tyrion grinned, a smile that didn't reach his eyes: "You could try it too. It's much more fun than blowing Cersei's **."
Ser Jaime frowned and said, "She and I are over."
Tyrion sneered and said, "Jaime, you're really naive. Do you think it's that easy to escape her control?"
After a pause, he suddenly said, "Have you finally realized she's a rotten whore?"
Jaime's voice held a hint of anger: "With that mouth of yours, if you're rude again, be careful, I'll leave you here to rot, Tyrion."
Tyrion said mockingly, "Tywin and Cersei won't let me rot; they need my fresh head."
Jaime wasted no more words and tossed a large bag of gold dragons over, saying, "I'm here to rescue you."
Catching the bag, which was about the size of his head, Tyrion pouted: "Who said I needed your rescue?"
"Let's go."
Ser Jaime moved his feet faster: "Any more nonsense, and I'll support Father and Cersei in cutting off your head."
The corridor was dim.
Tyrion, who had just walked out of the cell, almost tripped over the body of a sleeping jailer on the floor.
Tyrion kicked him: "Dead?"
Ser Jaime shook his head: "Asleep. The other three too. I bribed someone to put sweet sleep flower in their wine; the dosage wasn't lethal."
Tyrion's mismatched eyes moved slightly: "It must have been hard for you, for a Dwarf, to make the great Kingsguard do something like drug people…"
As he spoke, he looked at Jaime's attire and suddenly said, "Why are you wearing Lannister's roaring Lion armor? Wasn't it inconvenient to do this in white robes… Well, you really like to deceive yourself."
Ser Jaime's footsteps paused slightly, and he said, "After I send you off, I plan to leave tonight as well. I'll go to the Lannister army camp outside the city."
Tyrion smiled broadly: "I can't wait to see the Old Lion's face tomorrow."
Ser Jaime's face was haggard: "I'm not a good brother, nor a good son."
Tyrion glanced at Jaime and said nothing more.
They descended the winding stairs, their shoes scraping against the rough stone floor, making sounds. The further down they went, the colder it became.
Tyrion shivered and said, "Is this the fourth level of the dungeon 'Maegor the Cruel' built for the Red Keep? I heard that once someone is taken to the fourth level, it means they will never see daylight or hear human voices again, but will suffer in torment forever."
After a pause, Jaime's voice sounded: "Are you scared?"
Tyrion snorted and quickened his pace down the stairs.
At the bottom of the stairs, an open door appeared, leading into darkness.
"Follow me."
With that, Jaime stepped into the darkness. Tyrion hesitated for a moment, then followed.
All he could hear was the faint sound of leather shoes on the stone floor. After walking for a while, a dim light appeared ahead.
Jaime finally stopped and began to open an iron door. The long-unused chains made a "creaking" sound, and dust fell in flakes.
Entering the room, after a brief look around, Jaime walked directly over and laboriously moved the wooden torture rack in the center. Then… he squatted down and fumbled for a few moments, lifting a stone slab.
Then came the sound of a key turning.
With a clang, Jaime opened what appeared to be a… lid in the spot where he had lifted the stone slab? Tyrion came to his side and looked down: "Where does this lead?"
Jaime's face was covered in dust: "I'm not sure. Glynn told me his men are waiting for you at the tunnel's exit."
He pointed to the thick iron chain: "You can grab this and climb down."
Tyrion silently stared downwards, as if in a daze.
Jaime patted the dust off his clothes, came in front of Tyrion, knelt on one knee, and quickly kissed his brother's cheeks, saying, "I've lived a failure, I'm so sorry. You… must live well, Tyrion. Cersei, and Martell, they might both send assassins. In the future… you must be careful and cautious."
After speaking, he helped his brother put on the heavy money bag.
As Tyrion climbed down the tunnel, he paused, looked up at his older brother, and said, "Jaime, change your naive habit. Don't trust anyone."
He saw his older brother finally show the most natural smile of the night: "I will."
The iron chain seemed to stretch endlessly. At first, Tyrion could still see the blurred outline of the chain and the rough grey stone of the walls, but as the darkness deepened, he couldn't even see his own fingers.
Finally, he saw a faint light. He felt he must have reached the ground, so he cautiously extended a leg to test.
Just as he stood firm, a "hehe" laugh suddenly came from beside him. Tyrion almost peed himself on the spot and blurted out: "Whoa…"
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