Tyrion only learned about the mob harassment at The Red Keep last night the next day, as he had been immersed in his desires and love all night; Shae's embrace made him feel much safer. She had the eyes of a doe, though her bosom was not large. Tyrion could only have his secret rendezvous thanks to that fat spider.
Varys had shown Tyrion a secret passage connecting a stable to Shae's room in a brothel, allowing Tyrion Lannister to use Alayaya as a cover to secretly visit Shae at night.
By the time Tyrion and Shae's rendezvous ended, the exciting events at The Red Keep last night were already spreading like wildfire throughout the city, including his nephew Joffrey's heroic deed: the King himself had shot a rioter with a crossbow and wounded a woman.
"He's playing with fire," Tyrion said to Bronn on the way back to The Red Keep.
"Perhaps the King thinks he's very brave," the Mercenaries shrugged.
Bronn now had the air of a successful man; his black hair was neatly combed, his beard cleanly shaven, and he wore a black breastplate, like a high-ranking officer of the City Watch. But a House Lannister deep-crimson cape with a golden hand still hung from his shoulder, indicating his status as Captain of the Guard, a gift from The Imp. "I heard he's not bad with a crossbow, directly shooting a fool dead."
"Perhaps, but this incident will not only fail to enhance his martial virtue but will further highlight that he is a king who cannot control his emotions, an unqualified actor and Singer. Now, the poor people of King's Landing will call him a tyrant, and next time there will be more stones." Tyrion sighed. Politics is an art of performance, and a king, in particular, must learn to act appropriately. Joffrey directly shot down rioters with a crossbow, and his troubles in King's Landing would only grow.
"The people of King's Landing are not to be trifled with; if anyone makes them hungry, they'll throw a fit," Bronn said with a grin.
"Where am I supposed to find grain for them? We'll just have to endure a bit longer. In this situation, we also need to guard against traitors in the city," Tyrion said helplessly.
As long as the siege of King's Landing did not end, the grain crisis in King's Landing would persist. This was a fatal flaw inherent in all commercial cities. Currently, the Stormlands' army was marching north, and Dragonstone's fleet might also be preparing for action.
"Half of our city's grain now comes from Stokeworth and Rosby. These two places, located north of the Crownlands, have not yet been affected by the war." Tyrion was very clear about King's Landing's supply situation. The grain transported to King's Landing was pitifully small, and most of it had to supply The Red Keep and the barracks. The prices of vegetables, bread, and fruit were all soaring now. Where the meat in the brown soup came from was a question best not pondered. Fortunately, the sea and rivers were still under control for now, so they could still have some fish.
"Begging your pardon, but that's not quite enough," Bronn whispered.
Tyrion nodded. "There's really no better way." The supplies transported by the two castles were, after all, limited. Once famine spread, riots would only increase.
Thinking of this, Tyrion couldn't help but worry about Shae's safety. He needed to find a better hiding place for his mistress. Besides Shae, there were Cersei's children. Joffrey, of course, went without saying, but Prince Tommen and Princess Myrcella were also crucial bargaining chips.
"Who are you going to see first? Are you waiting in the Hand's reception room, or?" Bronn asked.
"I'm going to see our esteemed Grand Maester first." Tyrion cleared his throat. "Perhaps I can still get some breakfast out of it."
Before the great war, Tyrion had to firmly control the highest echelons of King's Landing. Previously, King's Landing was governed by Cersei, Old Maester Pycelle, Littlefinger, Varys, and Commander-in-Chief Janos of the Gold Cloaks. Now that Tyrion had removed Janos, he had to identify the other four participants. Aside from his sister, there were the other three involved.
Pycelle was the one Tyrion suspected most. There was a high probability that this elderly Old Man was his sister Cersei's informant. To confirm his suspicion, Tyrion decided to go and see the Old Man. Tyrion was quite clear about the backgrounds of the other three important ministers. Littlefinger's rise stemmed from the recommendation of that foolish woman Lysa and the appreciation of Lord Jon, as well as Littlefinger's flamboyant skill or trickery in counting coppers. Varys's fame came even earlier; due to the Mad King's distrust of the world, Varys had been employed in King's Landing until now and was considered an unfathomable old minister. Among these three, only Littlefinger was somewhat of a newcomer.
"Only Varys," Tyrion thought. He definitely had to meet the Old Man again to test the Old Maester's true colors.
Tyrion was certain that the Old Maester was loyal to House Lannister; he just didn't like the Old Man's big mouth acting as Cersei's informant.
Tyrion found the Old Maester in a well-ventilated room beneath the ravenry, and he had prepared his own deception for the Old Maester. His sister also had two other children; if he gave each of them a different answer, then by observing Cersei's reaction, he would know who the real traitor was.
The Old Maester invited him to dine together, and the serving women brought them boiled eggs, stewed plums, and oatmeal. "In these extraordinary times, many common folk don't even have food, so I think we too should keep things simple."
"Commendable," Tyrion admitted. Tyrion looked at the Old Man's mottled head; his words were as hypocritical as the High Septon's, making Tyrion feel a little uncomfortable. But Tyrion still felt he should cooperate with the performance, so he casually cracked open a large egg.
Tyrion looked at the Grand Maester's chain, which was more than ten times the size of an ordinary Maester's chain, linked together and set with jewels. The most numerous links were gold, silver, and platinum. He is truly corrupt, Tyrion thought.
Tyrion directly asked for key information; he needed to use Grand Maester Pycelle's ravens. Tyrion shook two tightly rolled parchments in his hand, sealed with wax on the side, and placed them next to the oatmeal.
"May I ask what these are?"
"Letters to Prince Doran Martell of Dorne. These are in duplicate and are of great importance. Send them with your fastest bird," Tyrion said righteously.
"I will attend to it immediately after breakfast," the Old Maester replied with some hesitation. The Old Maester looked at The Imp's mismatched eyes, one black and one green, which made him feel a little uncomfortable, and even more uncomfortable was the content of the letter. The Dornish and the Iron Throne had always had a poor relationship, and in this situation, the Old Maester naturally wanted to see the contents of the letter sent to Martell.
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