The sky was dim, obscured by dark clouds.
Horn Hill, Lord's Study.
At this moment, Randyll Tarly, Earl of Horn Hill, expressionlessly stared at the letter in which his eldest son, Samwell Tarly, personally renounced his inheritance rights to Horn Hill and the Tarly family's noble title.
Melissa Florent watched her husband sitting at the table and said, "Randyll, he made a brave choice, and I am proud of Sam!"
Randyll snorted coldly and said, "Coward, he bravely chose to run away."
Randyll's reply finally made Melissa, who had been suppressing her emotions, explode.
"Randyll! I knew you would still look down on Sam, I shouldn't have come to you! Randyll, never forget, it was you who personally forced my eldest son away!"
Randyll's wife, the kind Melissa, had always been gentle in his impression.
Although Randyll didn't show it, today's Melissa made this famous general of the battlefield pause.
Randyll placed the letter on the table and said coldly, "If he still cares about the family, he should go to the Wall, put on the black and join the honorable Night's Watch!"
Randyll rose from his chair and continued, "He actually chose Baron Kleber, who fights with his tongue at Highgarden feasts!
Baron Kleber is a fellow who only stirs up trouble with his tongue; he deceived the superficial world and denied my military achievements!
Many people believed his nonsense that could only deceive the Others... A decade ago, I fought tooth and nail, and now I've become a criminal of House Targaryen?!"
Melissa might also have been angry.
Normally, upon hearing such things, Melissa would surely comfort her husband first.
But today, Melissa didn't want to do that; her eldest son had left her side, and she was the one who needed comfort the most.
Melissa sneered, "Ha! This time I support Sam's choice, and I am truly proud of him! You made me lose my eldest son, so... let your ridiculous military achievements go to the Others!"
Randyll roared, "You!"
Having released some of her accumulated resentment, Mrs. Tarly also felt at this moment that her words were a little too much.
However, apologizing was out of the question!
Melissa thought she would never forget the scene when Samwell came to see her alone that time.
Melissa vented a lot of accumulated resentment, and she gradually calmed down.
"Earl Randyll, you only have one son left now. I warn you, don't force Dickon away too! If anything happens to Dickon, I will never forgive you!"
The usually gentle Mrs. Tarly couldn't help but unleash her full fury once more.
In Melissa's impression, Samwell had always been a smart and kind child; it was Randyll's improper guidance that made Samwell increasingly timid.
In a mother's eyes, her own child is, of course, the best; it was only the father, Randyll, who didn't know how to educate, forcing a good child to become so timid that he didn't dare to show his face.
Facing Melissa's outburst, Randyll took a deep breath and said nothing more.
Mrs. Tarly also didn't want to continue arguing with her husband; she worried that if it went on too long, the children would find out.
She didn't want the children to witness their parents' embarrassing scene.
"Randyll, I don't want to see you recently!"
Mrs. Tarly left her last words and stormed out of Randyll's study, closing the door with a bang.
Randyll: "..."
Randyll walked to the window and looked up at the sky.
The dim sky, obscured by dark clouds, was gradually cleared by the wind, revealing the sky, and sunlight poured down, re-illuminating the world.
The shining sunlight made Randyll's eyes close slightly.
A deserter, dares to embarrass me?!
Randyll's lips, as hard as steel, curled up imperceptibly.
Red Keep, King's Hall.
Lancel Lannister had recently fallen into distress.
Once again, Lancel couldn't help but find an excuse to seek an audience with Queen Cersei.
After meeting, he boldly approached Cersei but found that his unusually gentle cousin from that night had disappeared.
His cousin Cersei had returned to her usual proud self; not only was she indifferent to his approach, but she even coldly ignored him.
This was Lancel's normal impression of Cersei, but he was very unaccustomed to it, making him feel anxious and abandoned.
Therefore, Lancel often suffered from insomnia, wondering if Cersei's change in attitude meant she was dissatisfied with his progress?
Before Cersei could remind him, Lancel had already voluntarily switched to the wine Cersei had given him.
After Robert tasted it, he only paused for a moment, and Lancel was unusually praised by King Robert a few times.
Lancel was now very confused... What else could he do to make Cersei look at him differently again?
"Idiot! Can't you see the goblet is empty?"
King Robert Baratheon's thunderous voice startled Lancel, whose heart pounded.
Trembling all over, Lancel hastily picked up the wine jug and poured.
When the wine was full, Robert, his face flushed, raised his cup and drank it all, saying, "You Lannister idiot, what are you standing there for? Can't you see the goblet is empty again?"
Lancel faced Robert, who was as imposing as a black bear, and could only tremble.
"Get out, stand aside, don't be an eyesore! If you dare to space out again, I'll smash your head!"
Lancel, holding the wine jug, moved away immediately like a startled rabbit.
Lancel lowered his head, his heart in his throat, making it difficult to breathe.
Lancel wanted to cry; this was not what he imagined a King's attendant should be like.
Why did King Robert's attendant do nothing but pour wine every day?
What would people call him in the future? The Wine Pourer?
Lancel thought of his father, far away in the Westerlands.
Would his father be disgraced because of him? Had he brought shame to the Lannister family?
Lancel suddenly wondered if this was why Cersei was so cold to him?
"Bastard! Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!"
Robert's thunderous curses made Lancel tremble, and he almost dropped the wine jug.
At the critical moment, Lancel held the wine jug tightly.
"Spacing out again? You Lannister pig! What are you standing there for, waiting for me to wring your neck? Get over here and pour the wine!"
Robert's training was very successful; Lancel no longer dared to space out.
King's Landing, Master of Coin's private residence.
The afternoon sun gradually climbed onto the window frame. The dappled projections warmed every corner and every speck of dust within the room.
Petyr Baelish, Earl of Whispering Fort, curved his lips after hearing the news reported by his attendant.
"Information is wealth; I like these little surprises."
The attendant said, "My Lord, please give your command."
Petyr's green eyes flickered slightly, his smile as elegant as ever: "Though not precious enough, it's sufficient as a gift after a long absence; he will feel my sincerity."
After a pause, Petyr continued, "Arrange it immediately. Guard it well for me; I don't want any unexpected disappointments."
The attendant's body couldn't help but tremble slightly, saying, "Yes, My Lord!"
After the attendant left, Petyr leaned back in his chair and looked out the window.
Duke Jon's condition had been very serious recently, making Petyr at one point believe that Duke Jon could pass away at any moment.
Petyr's ladder of chaos was not yet fully laid out, and this situation was not beneficial to Petyr's interests.
However, King Robert's arrival brought him an unexpected surprise.
After Duke Jon met King Robert, his physical condition visibly improved.
Was it Robert's stimulation, or was it Maester Pycelle's problem?
Without time to ponder, Petyr found himself in a dilemma again.
Duke Jon's too rapid recovery also gave Petyr a headache; he didn't want Duke Jon to die now, but he also didn't want to see a healthy King's Hand again.
A healthy King's Hand would weaken the power Petyr had already gained.
Six months at most... A cold glint flashed in Petyr's eyes.
Overall, things had been going smoothly recently, and everything was developing as he had hoped, which put Petyr in a good mood.
Petyr's eyes suddenly trembled slightly.
Petyr, deep in thought, suddenly had a strange idea: it seemed that things had only become smooth for him during the period Baron Green was not in King's Landing?
Petyr shook his head, casting off the absurd thought that had suddenly arisen.
The exceptionally intelligent Petyr would not be superstitious; he only believed in reliable information, which had always been his most dependable strength for victory.
Petyr's current strongest suspicion was Maester Pycelle, who was responsible for treating Duke Jon.
King Robert was not a good doctor; when faced with difficulties, he only knew how to wield a hammer.
Everyone else thought that King Robert's timely return was the key to Duke Jon's recovery.
However, Petyr didn't think so; his intuition told him that Maester Pycelle, who appeared to be desireless, was very problematic!
Petyr would not rashly trust his intuition. He had already begun to investigate Maester Pycelle to verify whether his intuition was correct.
...
...
Maegor's Holdfast, Queen's Bedroom.
On the bed, Cersei Lannister, who had just finished her intimate moments, pressed Jaime Lannister beneath her.
Her slender hands were still trembling slightly. Cersei caressed Jaime's handsome face and asked, "Jaime, have you thought it through now?"
Jaime closed his eyes, lost in the aftertaste of Cersei's tenderness, and did not answer her question.
Seeing that Jaime remained silent, Cersei, losing patience, got off Jaime's body, grabbed a white nightgown nearby, and draped it over herself.
Jaime sighed, opened his eyes, and, leaning on his side with one hand supporting his cheek, said with a smile, "Cersei, what else do you think I can say?"
Cersei glanced at Jaime, but did not stop what she was doing.
Jaime saw Cersei, now dressed in her nightgown, about to get up and leave the bed, and smiled dotingly.
Jaime reached out and grabbed Cersei's wrist: "I know, I know. In the end, what else can I do but support you?"
Upon hearing this, a slight curve finally appeared on Cersei's lips.
Cersei leaned closer to Jaime, gently patted his face, and said softly, "Jaime, you've become cunning. You insist on bothering me first, and although the process is enjoyable, the thought of it displeases me."
Jaime smiled, put his hands behind his head, looked at Cersei, and said, "Cersei, this intoxicates me."
Cersei looked askance at Jaime and couldn't help but lean down, leaving a warm kiss on his forehead.
Jaime's handsomeness also made Cersei unconsciously lose herself.
Cersei turned her face and lay on Jaime's broad chest: "Jaime, you've changed recently. I don't know exactly where, but I can feel it."
Jaime curled his lips, ruffled Cersei's beautiful hair, and said, "Cersei, you always understand me best."
Saying that, Jaime sighed slightly and continued, "I was originally full of confidence in investigating the behind-the-scenes matters, but the more information I collected, the more confused I became... To the point where I didn't even dare to judge true from false... The change you've noticed is actually me recognizing myself, and perhaps this is a good thing."
Cersei narrowed her eyes and asked, "What good thing?"
Jaime's tone was tinged with helplessness: "I feel... I might really not be suitable for handling complex situations. I think I'm more suited to being a good sword, a sword that belongs only to you."
Hearing Jaime's sincere words, Cersei's eyes immediately opened and shone brightly.
From an angle Jaime couldn't see, Cersei couldn't help but reveal a look of triumph.
Cersei lowered her voice, making her tone still sound calm: "Jaime, I support your decision. Your sword combined with my wisdom, no one will be our opponent. From now on, you'll have one less worry, but one more joy."
"One more joy?"
Cersei, with her head buried in Jaime's chest, nodded.
"A sword that discards thought retains only its sharpness. For you, this sword that has finally regained its sharpness... to celebrate, as a reward, I will always reward you once first from now on."
Cersei's fair, tender fingers drew circles, and she continued, "Lest you have to expend effort to get the chance to bother me... To avoid affecting the sharpness of my sword, for your sake, I can only exert myself a little and choose to please you in advance, my Jaime, my sword in hand."
...
...
The crimson sunlight shone on the azure sea, making the surface glitter with golden light, shimmering like brocade with dazzling and vibrant colors.
Free Trade Cities, Archon's Mansion.
Daenerys Targaryen, "Brother, you can't do this, I'm not an item for trade!"
Slap!
Daenerys was slapped to the ground by Viserys Targaryen.
Viserys straightened his clothes, his voice filled with suppressed madness: "My sister, do not try to awaken the sleeping dragon's rage."
Daenerys propped up her upper body with one hand, covering her numb cheek with the other, and couldn't help but sob.
Although Daenerys's handmaiden was also trembling in fear of Viserys, she still mustered the courage to run over, squat down, and tightly embrace the trembling Daenerys.
Viserys raised his pointed chin and said, "I said last time was the last time!"
The coldness in Viserys's words made the handmaiden shiver.
"No... don't, brother!"
Daenerys spread her arms, shielding the handmaiden.
Daenerys's action completely enraged Viserys.
"I am the King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, Viserys Targaryen III, the one true King of the Iron Throne!"
"You dare to defy me? Congratulations, you have successfully awakened the sleeping dragon's rage!"
With that, Viserys strode forward and pushed Daenerys aside.
Viserys grabbed the handmaiden's long hair and then began to beat her with his fists and feet.
Daenerys ignored the pain in her body and tried to stop her brother's brutality, but with a bang, she was kicked to the ground by Viserys.
"Please, please, let her go, let her go..."
Helpless Daenerys pleaded weakly with Viserys.
The handmaiden had initially cried out in pain, but now she lay on the ground like a limp rag, silent.
Having vented the sleeping dragon's rage, Viserys stood quietly for a moment, let out a long breath, and brushed back his silver hair.
Viserys reached out and grabbed Daenerys's chin.
The small Daenerys was forcibly pulled in front of Viserys.
Daenerys's small face, swollen red from the slap, had to face Viserys's thin face, which was terrifyingly close.
Viserys frowned and used his other hand to wipe away the tears streaming down Daenerys's face: "My will cannot be defied, do you understand now?"
A faint smile appeared on Viserys's pale face.
Viserys's smile made Daenerys's heart even more panicked.
Seeing no answer from Daenerys, Viserys's hand, which was gripping Daenerys's small face, increased its force: "Are you defying me with silence?"
Viserys's large hand distorted Daenerys's small face.
Terrified Daenerys spoke with difficulty: "I... understand..."
After speaking, Daenerys's tears silently poured out again.
Only then did Viserys show a satisfied smile and release Daenerys.
Seeing Daenerys's small body swaying, Viserys immediately reached out to support her, his movements very gentle.
At that moment, Daenerys, plunged into despair, had a fleeting thought: had her brother returned?
Viserys immediately shattered Daenerys's humble fantasy.
"My sister, I need an army. With an army, I can return home with an army. I will bring back a vast army sufficient to reclaim the Iron Throne.
If I must marry you off to gain these, then you will obediently do so.
As long as it allows me to have an army, even if every soldier must have his way with you, I will agree, and if necessary, even the soldiers' horses can join in.
Now I am merely giving you to one man, you should already be smiling... Now, quickly wipe away your tears. Illyrio is about to bring him over, and I don't want him to see you crying.
If you mess things up because of you, I will not forgive you... Do not try to awaken the sleeping dragon's rage again!"
After speaking, Viserys helped Daenerys tidy her messy silver hair and very gently left a burning kiss on Daenerys's forehead.
Daenerys allowed Viserys to do as he pleased, her hollow eyes seemingly devoid of all life.
...
...
In the early morning, the sky was tinged with a slight blush, coupled with warm rays of sunlight, and red-purple clouds drifted by.
King's Landing outskirts.
Dong~~Dong~Dongdongdong~Dong~Dongdongdong~~~
Green gazed at the majestic outline of King's Landing, and the melody from his previous life once again surfaced in his mind.
Green pulled on the reins.
Green sighed, two months ago when he first came to King's Landing, he was just Baron Whispering Fort of Crab Claw Point.
Now, two months later, entering King's Landing for the second time, I... am still Baron Whispering Fort.