chapter 87 part 1
Chapter 87: Choice
The sky was dim, veiled by dark clouds.
Horn Hill, in the lord's study.
At this moment, Lord Randyll Tarly stared expressionlessly at a letter in which his eldest son, Samwell Tarly, had personally renounced his right to inherit Horn Hill and the lordship of House Tarly.
Melessa Florent fixed her gaze on her husband, who was seated at the desk. "Randyll," she said, "he made a brave choice. I am proud of Sam!"
Randyll snorted coldly. "A coward. He bravely chose to run away."
Randyll's reply was the final straw, and Melessa, who had been suppressing her emotions, finally erupted.
"Randyll! I knew you would still look down on Sam! I never should have come to you! Randyll, don't you ever forget, it was you! You personally forced my eldest son away!"
In his memory, Randyll's wife, the kind Melessa, had always been gentle.
Though Randyll's face remained impassive, Melessa's outburst momentarily stunned the renowned military commander.
...
Randyll placed the letter on the desk and said coldly, "If he had any thought for his House, he should have gone to the Wall to take the black and join the honorable Night's Watch!"
Randyll rose from his chair and continued, "Instead, he chose that Baron Cleber, the one who fights battles with his tongue at feasts!
"Baron Cleber is just a fellow who knows only how to stir up trouble with his tongue. He has deceived the shallow world and denied my military achievements!
"Many people have bought into his nonsense that could only fool the Others... Decades ago, I fought and bled in battle, and now I've become a criminal of House Targaryen?!"
Melessa must have been truly furious.
Normally, upon hearing such things, Melessa would have first comforted her husband.
But not today. Melessa had no desire to do so. Her eldest son had left her side; she was the one most in need of comfort.
Melessa said mockingly, "Hah! This time, I support Sam's choice. I am truly proud of him! You made me lose my eldest son, so... let your ridiculous military achievements go to hell!"
"You!" Randyll growled.
Having vented some of her dissatisfaction, Lady Tarly also felt that she had gone a little too far.
However, an apology was out of the question.
Melessa thought she would never forget the sight of Samwell coming to see her alone that one time.
...
Melessa had dispelled much of her accumulated resentment and gradually calmed down.
"Lord Randyll, you only have one son left now. I'm warning you, don't you dare force Dickon away too! If anything happens to Dickon, I will never forgive you!"
The usually gentle Lady Tarly couldn't help but go on the offensive once more.
In Melessa's eyes, Samwell had always been a smart and kind boy. It was Randyll's improper teachings that had made Samwell increasingly timid.
To a mother, her child is always the best. She believed it was only because Randyll, as a father, didn't know how to raise him that their good boy had been pressured to the point that he feared showing his face in public.
Faced with Melessa's outburst, Randyll took a deep breath and said no more.
Lady Tarly did not wish to continue arguing with her husband either. She worried that if it went on for too long, the children would find out.
She did not want her children to witness such an ugly scene between their parents.
"Randyll, I don't want to see you for a while!"
Leaving these last words, Lady Tarly departed from Randyll's study with an imposing air and slammed the door shut with a bang.
Randyll: "..."
Randyll walked to the window and gazed up at the sky.
The sky, once dim and veiled by dark clouds, began to clear as the wind pushed the clouds apart, revealing the heavens. Sunlight poured down, illuminating the world once more.
The glare of the sun made Randyll narrow his eyes slightly.
A deserter dares to embarrass me?!
A barely perceptible smirk touched the corners of Randyll's iron-hard lips.
...
...
The Red Keep, the Great Hall.
Lancel Lannister had been distressed lately.
Once again, Lancel couldn't resist finding an excuse to attend to Queen Cersei.
After their last encounter, he had boldly approached Cersei, only to find that the cousin who had been so exceptionally gentle that night had vanished.
Cousin Cersei had reverted to her usual, familiar pride. In response to his approach, not only did Cersei remain unmoved, she even gave him the cold shoulder.
This was the Cersei he remembered, but he found her coldness deeply unsettling. It made him anxious, as if he had been cast aside.
As a result, Lancel often suffered from insomnia, wondering if Cersei's change in attitude was due to her dissatisfaction with his progress.
Without waiting for Cersei's prompting, Lancel had already taken the initiative to serve Robert the wine she had given him.
After Robert took a sip, he merely paused for a moment before Lancel received a few rare words of praise from the King.
Lancel was now completely lost... What more could he do to make Cersei look at him with favor again?
...
"You fool! Can't you see the cup is empty?"
The deafening voice of King Robert Baratheon startled the daydreaming Lancel, making his heart pound in his chest.
Trembling all over, Lancel hastily picked up the wine flagon to pour.
Once the cup was full, a red-faced Robert raised it and drained it in one gulp. "You Lannister fool, what are you standing there for? Can't you see the cup is empty again?"
Facing Robert, who was as burly as a black bear, Lancel could only tremble in fear.
"Get lost! Stand aside and don't be an eyesore! If you dare to daze off again, I'll smash your head open!"
Clutching the flagon, Lancel immediately scrambled away like a frightened rabbit.
Lancel kept his head down, his heart in his throat, making it difficult to even breathe.
Lancel wanted to cry. This wasn't what he had imagined being a king's squire would be like.
Why was it that the king's squire's only duty every day was to pour wine, and then pour more wine?