"Did you give the order to the Gold Cloaks?" Lord Tywin's tone was filled with anger.
"I didn't let them kill anyone." Cersei looked away.
That fool Loras wanted blood. I heard the boy who was still bedridden after killing the Mountain had already slain six Gold Cloaks by the time his uncle Kevan and his men arrived.
"In the meeting just now, Oberyn Martell mocked us severely, Cersei," Uncle Kevan said. "When they take our bread and salt, guest rights are in effect."
"They were never guests, uncle. Stannis wants to seize Joffrey's throne, and Cole is just a lowborn whom Stannis promoted because he had no one else to use." Cersei spoke fiercely.
"That's enough. Your foolish actions have already damaged the crown's trust." Tywin scolded.
A flash of fear crossed Cersei's heart, quickly replaced by anger. "If the gods have eyes, they should have let the Mountain kill that white-haired boy. Joffrey's body is still cold, and I will not let his murderer go unpunished."
"You suspect he is the murderer?" Uncle Kevan asked.
"No, the murderer is the Imp." Cersei's eyes were stern.
"Be careful, Cersei. Tyrion is your brother, after all, and the gods have declared him innocent," the Hand warned.
"We have been embarrassed enough. You should understand your father." Sadness flashed across Ser Kevan's face.
"Then who will understand me!" She roared like a lioness. "Do you know how I felt when I held Joffrey's cold body?"
Tears rolled down her face.
"We understand your grief, Cersei. But if the royal family loses its prestige, it will no longer be able to keep its lords in check. Aerys is the best lesson," Tywin told her. "What you should focus on now is Tommen's affairs. Go back."
Cersei wiped away her tears and stood up angrily. "I am the Queen Regent, father."
She swept her sleeves and left.
"Mother and son are equally willful. I'm considering whether I should take Tommen under my personal care."
Ser Kevan sighed, "You were too harsh on her, Tywin. After all..."
Cole held Longclaw with the blade facing down. He crouched on the first floor, gripping the hilt in one fist and placing his other hand over it, tapping his index finger up and down.
He looked like a blood-covered statue, with traces of dried blood all over his body and face.
Hundreds of Lannister guards in crimson cloaks guarded the courtyard gate. Davos, who was seriously injured, had been sent to the maester for treatment, while only eleven of the soldiers and servants who had followed him from Dragonstone remained.
Jon's face was terrifyingly grim as he had instructed Ghost to stay far from Dragonstone. Ghost was no longer suitable for close reconnaissance due to his size.
War raged on Dragonstone, and he had seen a fleet surrounding the entire island.
"Sir, you can't go in."
Noisy voices came from outside the yard.
Jon's thoughts were interrupted. Oberyn appeared at the door, bringing Tyrion with him.
"I heard you beat the Tyrell boy?" The prince approached.
"If the Lannisters hadn't arrived, he would be dead by now," Jon's voice was cold as ice.
"Kill that boy, and the tens of thousands of roses outside the city will never let you leave," Tyrion said.
"Hmph," Cole snorted coldly. "Then I'll crush them all."
This was the first time Tyrion had seen him so angry.
"Any news about Dragonstone?" Cole asked them.
Tyrion shook his head. "Rumors in the streets say Dragonstone has fallen to the Ironborn."
"No, although Dragonstone has few defenders, it's not so easily captured," Cole said with certainty.
"What are you going to do?" the dwarf asked.
"They need support."
"Where will you find reinforcements now? The Seven Kingdoms don't have a fleet to rush there, and even if they did, their loyalties are uncertain," Tyrion said.
"Who said there were no reinforcements?" the prince asked suddenly.
Tyrion looked at the Red Viper in shock.
"I'm going to meet your father, Tyrion," Cole suddenly stood up.
Tyrion shrugged. "Don't ask me to join you. His Highness the Prince has persuaded me to visit Dorne."
"You should say goodbye to your lord father, shouldn't you? We can go together."
Cole walked to the door, where the Lannister soldiers stood as if facing an enemy.
"Take me to see the Hand," Cole said to the Lannister officer leading the group.
"Sir, I must send someone to ask the Hand for instructions first."
Cole nodded.
As he climbed the spiral staircase of the Tower of the Hand, two guards stopped him at the door. "Sir, please leave your weapons here for now."
Cole unstrapped his sword and handed it over, then the Lannister guards pushed the door open.
He walked straight in. Lord Tywin sat at his desk.
"You wished to see me?" the Hand asked.
"Yes, my lord."
Tywin studied him. "You always remind me of an old friend. He was young, charming, and decisive in his actions."
Later, people called him mad.
"I heard the lad seems to bear some grudge against you. I know nothing of what happened this morning," the Hand explained.
"You have managed the Seven Kingdoms with order. I trust in your fairness and strictness, my lord. I'm not here to ask questions, but to resign."
"You wish to leave? Where to?"
"Where I came from, of course," Cole answered. "You must know more about Dragonstone than I do."
"I'm sorry about Stannis," Tywin's indifferent golden eyes were as calm as his tone. "Though he did some wrong things."
"Wrong things?" Cole asked.
"We have no quarrel, Jon. I've always remembered your achievements in the Riverlands, and Kevan speaks highly of you as well," Tywin said.
Cole sneered inwardly. It's not necessarily true that there was no quarrel.
"Shireen Baratheon is Tommen's cousin. We shouldn't fight. Now that enemies threaten from outside, family should stand united. What say you?" The Hand continued. "The king plans to make you commander of the royal fleet."
"I was," Cole smiled slightly.
"A naval commander without ships?" Tywin stopped writing. "We'll rebuild a fleet for you, at least fifty warships."
"Don't trouble yourself, Lord Hand." Cole bowed slightly. "I leave immediately, and I came to bid you farewell. I'm grateful for your hospitality these past days."
He turned and walked toward the door, saying over his shoulder, "There's a guest gift for King Tommen outside. I hope he likes it."
When a guest departs, the host gives a "guest gift," signifying the end of sacred guest rights. Likewise, the guest presents a "guest gift" to thank their host for food and shelter.