chapter 175 part 1
Chapter 175: Tyrion, Hand of the King
Cersei Lannister: "..."
Varys picked up the letter and examined it. "Queen Cersei," he sighed, "I do not believe Lord Tyrion has deceived you. You see..."
He turned the letter toward Queen Cersei, pointing to the seal. "Only Lord Tywin's letters use a golden seal. One must admit, he is most thorough. This allows us to recognize his personal correspondence at a glance."
Pycelle craned his neck tremulously to look at the letter, then gave Queen Cersei a slight nod.
Queen Cersei's beautiful eyes stared at her ugly dwarf of a brother, but her hand reached out toward the Spider. Varys quickly rose from his stool, walked over, and respectfully placed the letter in Queen Cersei's hand.
Queen Cersei glanced at the seal of the golden lion, then broke it and began to read.
Tyrion first glanced at the long table of the Small Council, then at his older sister, Cersei, who sat in the King's seat. He had heard that his nephew, the King, much like Robert I, rarely attended meetings of the Small Council... He then looked at the empty Hand of the King's chair to Cersei's right. His father was indeed thorough; a lonely sister needed an obedient little brother to keep her company.
A small smile couldn't help but appear on Tyrion's face. He then turned his gaze to Lancel Lannister, who was standing by Cersei's side.
His obedient cousin's face was haggard, with dark, heavy circles under his eyes, just like... just like... Tyrion scratched his head... He remembered! He looked just like he did after waking up in a brothel.
The lions of House Lannister all liked looking in the mirror, regardless of whether they were beautiful or ugly.
...
"Heh, my dear cousin, please fetch me a cup of the Queen Regent's favorite Summer Red."
Lancel shot a disdainful glance at the grinning Tyrion and ignored him.
Tyrion immediately pursed his lips. "The Small Council is truly cautious. In a place like this, a deaf man is naturally more reliable than most... my poor cousin."
Varys turned his face to the side to hide a chuckle, while Pycelle seemed to have fallen asleep.
Lancel's face flushed crimson. He gritted his teeth and said, "I am not a servant, nor am I deaf! I am a knight now!"
The smile on Tyrion's face didn't change. He nodded in agreement and said, "Alright, Ser Lancel, please fetch me a cup of wine."
Lancel quickly glanced at the others present. Suppressing his anger, he said in a low voice, "I told you, I'm not a servant!"
Tyrion looked at Varys, who wore the expression of someone watching a good show. "Why is Ser Lancel still alive?" he asked.
Tyrion looked as if he were whispering a secret, but his voice was as loud as usual.
Varys's eyes shifted slightly. He smiled and said, "The Queen Regent is merciful."
Tyrion's eyes widened a fraction. "But he looks to me as if he's drunk his life away in a dream. I thought it was a final revelry, but it turns out it was a celebration of survival."
As Tyrion's words fell, Varys turned to look at Lancel. Pycelle, who had seemed asleep, also glanced over.
Tyrion said with a beaming smile, "My dear knightly cousin, which brothel have you been frequenting? Shall we go together next time?"
Cersei nearly tore a corner of the letter. Without raising her head, she said, "Lancel, make him shut up."
Tyrion's words made Lancel's face turn even paler. He looked in a panic from the hilt of the longsword at his waist to the gleaming golden wine flagon.
Tyrion glanced at Queen Cersei with curiosity. Had she yielded because of the letter's contents? But that wasn't the Lioness's usual style, was it?
Before long, Lancel walked over with his head held high. With undisguised contempt in his eyes, he placed a wine flagon and a cup on the table in front of Tyrion.
Lancel turned to leave, but Tyrion said with a wicked smile, "Ser Lancel, must I pour the wine myself?"
Lancel's steps faltered. He glanced at Queen Cersei, who was reading the letter with her head down, then picked up the wine flagon, fuming.
...
"Thank you, Ser Lancel."
Tyrion squinted as he took a sip of wine... A small victory. Not a bad start.
"This is impossible!"
Queen Cersei finished the letter and slammed it onto the table.
After a pause, Queen Cersei picked up the letter and read it again, which only made her angrier.
"How utterly preposterous!" The letter was slammed down on the table once more by Queen Cersei.
Varys said softly, "Queen Cersei, has something happened?"
Queen Cersei leaned back in her chair, took a deep breath, and then said, "My father has ordered Tyrion to enter the Red Keep and assume his duties. He instructs us to regard Tyrion as the true Hand of the King until he arrives at the Red Keep in person."
Grand Maester Pycelle stroked his white beard, nodding thoughtfully. "For Lord Tywin to make such arrangements, he must have a comprehensive plan. It seems the Small Council must officially welcome Lord Tyrion as the Hand of the King."
Queen Cersei said angrily, "I do not agree! Placing an imp in the Hand's chair is a joke in itself."
Tyrion smiled slightly. "Cersei, sister, I adore your welcoming ceremony."
Beneath the table, Queen Cersei's fists clenched. "If Renly's army marches on the city, or if Stannis attacks from Dragonstone, what use is a frail imp? I need someone who can destroy them, not someone who can make them laugh to death."
She continued, "Furthermore! The Hand of the King is chosen by the King himself and can only be appointed after the Small Council agrees. Joffrey appointed Father, not you, so you are not qualified."
Tyrion grinningly raised his cup and took a sip of Summer Red. "Sister dear, our father, the Hand of the King, has appointed me."
"Father has no right to do so, not unless he gets Joffrey's consent."
Tyrion shrugged. "You can only take up those issues with our accommodating father in person. But he is far away at Casterly Rock, busy gathering an army. I estimate he won't have time to deal with you anytime soon."
After speaking, Tyrion's smile vanished.
He said with proper decorum, "Grand Maester Pycelle, Lord Varys, and all of you, would you permit my sister and me a few words in private?"
The men exchanged subtle glances. They silently lowered their eyes, awaiting the Queen Regent's command.
Tyrion grinned. "My sister's sweet voice is captivating. I, too, am fond of sweet things..."
"Enough. You may all leave for now," Cersei interrupted Tyrion's words with disgust.
Varys rose smoothly and bid farewell with a nod; Pycelle got up tremulously, placed a hand on his chest in a salute, and left; before leaving, Ser Lancel shot his cousin a venomous glare.
After the Kingsguard had departed, only Cersei and Tyrion remained.
...
"Has the old lion lost his mind? Tell me, did you forge this letter?"