As evening drew near, the sunset glow painted the sky crimson, and the lingering light of the setting sun dyed the white clouds drifting in the blue sky.
King's Landing under the setting sun was enchanting.
In front of a secluded house, Greene Kleber, disguised as a masked Gold Cloak, dismounted his horse.
The house was located in a remote yet open area, serving as the secret meeting place for Greene and Varys (Chapter 181).
...
Upon pushing the door open, Varys, who was seated at the table, looked over. He surveyed Greene's black armor and Gold Cloak attire, then smiled faintly and said, "Lord Green, you are full of surprises."
Greene's eyes held a smile as he removed his face covering and took a seat.
Varys seemed to sigh with emotion: "I have to admit, you are truly cautious."
He was referring to Greene's action of not removing his face covering until he was inside the house.
"Lord Varys, King's Landing doesn't just have little birds..."
Greene nodded in greeting, then continued: "Seeing you, I can rest assured. I trust that where you are, no other eyes are hidden."
Varys shook his head with a smile, holding his wide sleeve with one hand and pushing a glass of wine towards Greene with the other, saying, "Lord Green, red wine from Myr."
Greene's eyes flickered imperceptibly, and his slender fingers tapped the side of the wine glass. He chuckled softly and said, "Lord Varys, why did you want me to return?"
Hearing Greene's words, Varys used the act of drinking to conceal the dark glint that flashed in his eyes.
He put down his wine glass, paused, and then sighed: "Lord Green, I have to admire your keenness, or perhaps I should now..."
He looked directly at Greene: "Call you the Chessmaster, Greene Kleber."
Varys's gaze was cold, but Greene calmly leaned back in his chair. He pointed to the wine glass in front of him and said, "Lord Varys, you are also very perceptive. You seem to have noticed my wariness of it."
His eyebrow raised slightly: "Was something added to the wine from Myr... perhaps Tears of Myr?"
Greene sighed softly, his fingers caressing the body of the wine glass as he spoke: "Ever since you developed a fondness for tasting fine wines, I've been on guard against you."
He revealed a faint smile: "It's a hunter's instinct, Lord Varys."
Varys's response was... he directly drank the wine from both glasses.
Varys lightly wiped the corner of his mouth and said, "Excessive suspicion will blind one's eyes, my Lord Green."
Looking at the "exasperated" Varys, Greene's eyes showed unconcealed surprise.
After a moment of silence, Varys's expression gradually returned to calm. Greene spoke: "Chessmaster... Lord Varys, are you referring to Daenerys Targaryen?"
Lord Green didn't think Varys held him in such high regard as to... see that he treated the Seven Kingdoms as his own chessboard.
He was just a minor The Crownlands noble, and even if Greene himself spoke his true thoughts, probably no one would believe him.
But... it had to be admitted, when Varys called Greene the Chessmaster, though he showed no outward reaction, his heart still skipped a beat.
...
Varys first picked up the wine jug and poured himself some wine. Then he raised his glass, took a sip, and said, "My little birds tell me that three true dragon bloodlines died that night. Now... Princess Daenerys is the only Targaryen still alive."
He continued: "You control the only true dragon, Lord Green."
Greene's eyes subtly moved as he said, "The night I arrived in Qarth, many people indeed died, but as far as I know, only two Targaryen bloodlines perished in the fire, not three."
With his fists clenched tightly within his wide sleeves, Varys's face turned cold again.
He spoke: "Lord Green, I hope you can be frank. With your keenness, you must have discovered something..."
His eyes narrowed slightly: "My little birds told me that a young man named Young Griff served as your guide, and you went together to Qarth, which was in chaos (Chapter 202)."
As Varys's words fell, Greene pondered for a moment and said, "Oh, are you referring to that blue-haired guide who was obsessed with playing the noble?"
Varys's eyes stared at Greene for a while, then he said, "He is a true noble; the most noble blood flows in his veins. He is a true dragon bloodline."
Greene's brown eyes scrutinized Varys and said, "Lord Varys, you now sound like an avenger."
Varys's body stiffened for a moment. He sat motionless, and after a long while, he first sighed deeply, then leaned back in his chair.
Varys clasped his hands, his tone filled with regret: "Though he was noble, he was a pitiful child. He should have had all good things..."
He looked at Greene: "Before he could walk, he began to learn how to be an excellent ruler. He received knightly weapon training, he was fluent in many languages, and he delved into history, law, and poetry. From the time he was old enough to understand, a septa taught him the mysteries of faith. He lived with fishermen, earning a living by working with his hands, swimming in rivers, mending nets, and washing his own clothes. Not only could he fish, cook, and treat wounds, but more importantly, he knew the terror of going hungry and being hunted."
After a pause, he continued: "For Joffrey, the crown was natural and self-evident... but for him, the crown was responsibility. He knew that a true king must put the people of the kingdom first and spend his life thinking of them."
His voice was suppressed with anger: "You destroyed all of this. You destroyed the king I carefully cultivated for this kingdom. You destroyed the Seven Kingdoms."
Patiently listening to Varys's words, Greene first murmured, "Carefully cultivated?"
He then continued: "If the 'he' you speak of is that blue-haired guide, I regret to say... all I saw in him was inexplicable arrogance and false benevolence. To be precise... I think..."
Greene thought very seriously for a moment, then continued: "He was a passable performer."
Lord Green was very honest; he tried to give his objective assessment and use gentle language as much as possible.
Varys's brow was tightly furrowed, his expression rigid as if frozen. His eyes were fixed on Greene, his body motionless, seemingly struggling to control his emotions and prevent himself from exploding.
...
After a long while, Varys suddenly closed his eyes in pain, then took a deep breath.
He said sadly: "We taught him how to be brave, but we didn't teach him how to stay away from danger."
We?
Greene's eyebrow raised slightly. Was Varys hinting at something?
So... he wants to tell me, or is he warning me, that he is not alone?
...
Varys slowly opened his eyes, and said wearily: "Now, I am like a sworn knight who has lost his king. Have I become what people call a hedge knight?"
Shaking his head, Varys's face was bitter as he scoffed: "I am an eunuch, and eunuchs have no honor. How can an eunuch be worthy of the title of knight? I should call myself a despicable wanderer."
Pausing, Varys picked up the wine jug, struggling to steady his trembling hand as he poured wine into his own glass.
Then, he leaned his upper body forward, intending to pour wine into the empty glass in front of Greene.
Varys tilted the wine jug slightly in his hand, and the red wine from Myr flowed from the spout, forming a graceful arc, like a silky stream, slowly pouring into the wine glass.
Whoosh~~ As he was pouring the wine, he seemed to recall sad things again, and his movements paused involuntarily.
Varys forced a smile and continued to pour the wine.
Having filled the glass, Varys put down the golden wine jug and said with a sincere tone, "These past few nights, I've dreamt of begging on the streets as a child. What a terrible nightmare... Lord Green, a despicable servant needs a master to serve."
Greene asked, "Lord Varys, you were unwilling to serve King Joffrey wholeheartedly because he wasn't a qualified king?"
Varys shook his head slightly: "I don't care how Joffrey is. The Iron Throne in the Red Keep was forged by Aegon the Conqueror himself. Only a true dragon bloodline can inherit that chair. Even if others sit on the Iron Throne, no matter how wise they are, they can never change their identity as a usurper."
After hearing Varys's words, Greene looked at the bald head of the man in front of him, and a thought suddenly occurred to him: could the reason Varys shaved his head be to hide his own silver hair?
Greene pulled his thoughts back and said, "Varys, we are allies, and your request is very reasonable."
Varys's face showed gratitude. He smiled faintly and raised his glass in a gesture: "Lord Green, to Princess Daenerys's..."
Greene raised his hand, interrupting Varys's words. He slowly pushed the wine glass in front of him towards Varys.
Greene stared at Varys and said, "Lord Varys, this glass of wine is yours."
The red wine from Myr gently swirled in the glass, displaying a deep and captivating red.
The candlelight flickered, and the glass shimmered with an alluring glow.
Varys's face instantly turned ashen, and a strange smile appeared on his plump face: "Lord Green, the Wisdom Spring of Westeros truly favors you."
Greene looked up and smiled, saying, "Lord Varys, wasn't all your previous performance just to make me drink..."
He pointed to the wine glass he had pushed in front of Varys and continued, "...this wine?"
Varys put down the wine glass in his hand and said coldly, "I still underestimated your vigilance towards me, and I misjudged your keenness."
Greene shook his head slightly, his tone sounding like comfort: "Lord Varys, you just told me that excessive suspicion blinds one's eyes. Perhaps... the fire of revenge in your heart has also blinded your eyes, or perhaps you are too eager for revenge."
Varys said coldly, "Greene Kleber, perhaps you are better suited to stay in the Citadel."
Greene's left hand gripped the scabbard of lady forlorn and said, "Lord Varys, you've allowed me to witness an assassination attempt against me firsthand, yet you don't seem concerned about your own safety?"
His tone was like teasing a friend: "Didn't your little birds tell you about the tradition of half-savage nobles?"
Varys's smile deepened: "That's because I know you somewhat. You are not reckless; you are a wise man."
Greene smiled, his eyes signaling: Please continue.
Varys first clasped his hands, then said, "When I was young, I stole to survive and quickly became a well-known thief in Myr. But as I grew older, I found that stealing the contents of people's letters was often more valuable than the contents of their coin purses, which earned me many, many gold dragons, so many that even the Iron Bank of Braavos was somewhat tempted."
The Iron Bank is the most important bank in Braavos (a Free Trade City in Essos). It is rumored that although all Free Trade Cities have their own banks, the Iron Bank is wealthier and more powerful than all other banks combined.
His smile deepened: "I entrusted most of my fortune to the Iron Bank to manage, and my only condition was that if anyone took my life, they would, according to our agreement, hire the Faceless Men on my behalf to avenge me."
The Faceless Men are a renowned group of assassins who worship the Many-Faced God. It is rumored that they possess the magical ability to change their appearance at will.
It is rumored that the price of hiring the Faceless Men for assassination is unimaginably expensive for ordinary people, which indirectly proves the terrifying assassination capabilities of the Faceless Men.
...
Varys slowly said, "Lord Greene, before coming here, I had already sent thirteen ravens to the Iron Bank of Braavos, telling them that if I suddenly disappeared, I would have been murdered, and the killer would be Lord Greene Kleber of Crabclaw Point."
Seeing Greene's hesitant expression, he added, "Exchanging a despicable eunuch for a noble lord is not a good deal... You are a wise man, my Lord Greene."
Lord Green's brow furrowed slightly. Assassination by the Faceless Men was indeed troublesome.
Hmm... I have to say... what Varys said seemed to make some sense.
But... continuing to leave Varys alive... would be an even greater trouble for him, Lord Green was certain.
Draw, swing, sheathe. All in one fluid motion.
With a flash of cold light, Varys's head was cleanly severed, as neatly as cutting cheese.
Blood gushed from his severed neck, spraying across the floor like a fountain, while Varys's face still held the smile he had in life.
...
...
In the night sky, a bright moon hung high, its pure light casting a mysterious silver glow over the Red Keep.
The Prime Ministers study in the Prime Ministers Tower.
The candelabra on the desk emitted a soft glow, illuminating the text of the book in Tyrion Lannister's hand.
He sometimes frowned in thought, sometimes smiled and nodded, completely engrossed in the book.
Knock, knock, knock. A knock on the door suddenly sounded. After a pause, Tyrion, without looking up, casually said, "Come in."
The door opened, and a masked Gold Cloak entered, carrying a wooden box in one arm.
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