Outside the city walls, along the riverbank, over a hundred tents had been erected, attracting thousands of commoners to watch. This was Prince Joffrey Baratheon's twelfth nameday tournament. Shining armor, tall warhorses adorned with gold and silver, the loud cheers of the crowd, and bright banners fluttering in the wind…
Ser Caesar, just thirty years old, was not participating in the tournament. He sat in his seat, thoughtfully watching Jaime Lannister, two years his junior, in the arena. Jaime was tall and handsome, with flowing blond hair, "bright blue eyes and a smile as sharp as a knife," and was widely considered a strikingly handsome man. Caesar, of course, had no interest in such men; his true desire lay with his twin sister, Cersei Lannister, who, after the War of the Usurper, had married the new king, Robert Baratheon, becoming Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.
Years ago, Lord Tywin Lannister intended to marry his daughter Cersei to Prince Rhaegar, but after much back and forth, Princess Elia Martell of Dorne ultimately married Rhaegar. At that time, Caesars had once seen this beautiful young woman with a Lannister air of pride. Now, although she was a mother of three, she remained slender, with fair skin, golden curls, and emerald eyes—the quintessential Lannister beauty.
However, Caesars was on good terms with her other brother—Tyrion, the "half-man" dwarf. Caesars admired his knowledge and insights, while Tyrion liked his style and his bravery and agility. Of course, most importantly, both were equally fond of women and alcohol. The two naturally became friends.
For various reasons, Cersei didn't give Caesars a friendly look, and Caesars secretly made a decision.
"Wow!!!" A cheer erupted; Loras Tyrell, the "Knight of Flowers," from House Tyrell had won the championship.
Lord Tywin Lannister, looking displeased, had brought a large entourage to the capital for Prince Joffrey's name-day tournament, hoping to see his son Jaime win, but to no avail.
That night, a grand banquet was held at the Red Keep, and in the shadows, Hand of the King Jon Arryn and Caesar emerged one after the other from a secret chamber. Jon Arryn looked grave, while Caesar seemed thoughtful, then a secret smile crept across his face.
Several months later, Jon Arryn suddenly fell ill. He then sent Grand Master Sear to send away Lord Arryn's maester, Cormon, believing he was better equipped to treat elderly patients. However, Jon Arryn died soon after, repeatedly calling out the name "Robert" and murmuring "caste strong."
A few days later, Caesar summoned Queen Cersei to the Godswood.
She arrived only at sunset, the clouds above the towers already tinged with the red of dawn. She came alone as promised, unusually simply dressed in leather boots and a green hunting coat. When she lifted the hood of her brown cloak, shoulder-length golden curls with soft waves were revealed. Beneath delicate, arched eyebrows were long, double eyelids framed by lashes. She possessed a pair of bright, fiery eyes, emerald green like the clearest, most beautiful stars, eyes that alone held an indescribable allure.
"Why here?" Cersei Lannister stood before him, asking haughtily.
"There are fewer people here."
She sat down on the grass beside him, her every movement exceptionally graceful. Her curly golden hair danced in the wind, her emerald eyes like the lush foliage of summer.
"I know why Jon Arryn died, I know some of your little secrets…" Caesars said casually.
"Is that so?" The Queen scrutinized his face, as cautiously as a cat. "Sir Caesars, is this all you've summoned me for?"
"Heh heh," Caesars didn't answer her question, but instead reached out and gently touched her cheek. "What a pretty face, too bad it might end up hanging on the city walls."
"Hmph!" She turned her face away. "Tell me, what do you want?" Cersei looked at him defiantly. "I'll give you a hundred times what that old man gave you."
"A little money might not be enough to sway me?" Caesars said, reaching for Cersei's shapely buttocks. "You should know the consequences if Robert finds out about this…"
"Slap!" Cersei slapped Caesars's hand away. "What do you think a mere lord like you can do?!"
Caesars waved his hand and said, "I can't do much, but our King Robert can… I assure you, no matter how far you run, Robert's wrath will follow you to the ends of the earth."
The Queen stood up and said, "Then you'll get a taste of my wrath first!"
Several figures emerged from the shadows of the oak trees, settling into the tranquility of the Godswood.
In the dark blue sky above, stars gradually appeared, their light illuminating the figures—clad in dark red leather, wielding longswords—who surrounded Caesars.
Caesars instinctively touched his waist.
"Damn it!" Caesars was dressed in court attire and unarmed.
He had been too careless, not expecting Cersei to act so directly, premeditatedly plotting to eliminate him.
Caesars instinctively tried to grab Cersei, but a sword slashed from his left. Caesars, in the prime of his life, was agile and dodged the blow, but Cersei had already retreated. Although Caesars was exceptionally brave, his restrictive court attire and lack of weaponry made him somewhat hampered. Faced with the fierce attacks of several swordsmen, he could only passively dodge. He had just dodged two swift slashes when someone rushed up behind him, kicking him in the back before he could even regain his footing. Caesar staggered, and one of them struck him hard on the back of the head with the hilt of a sword, then kicked him to the ground.
"Don't kill him yet..."
"Lock him in the dungeon..."
...