Although Lancelot desperately wanted to check the stats of Robert, Jaime, Tyrion, and the others, he was down to only twenty Popularity Points, so he simply couldn't afford it.
If he wanted to raise his Popularity Points without causing trouble, he would have to wait for the day of the tourney.
Still, Lancelot was incredibly curious about their data.
He was already mentally prepared: Tyrion would likely have super-high Intelligence, Robert super-high Strength, and the others would have their own unique talents.
"Your Grace, if I win the tourney championship, may I ask you to personally knight me?" Lancelot asked King Robert.
King Robert, who was in the middle of drinking, choked on his wine at Lancelot's sudden question.
Cough! Cough! Cough!
As for the others, Cersei's eyes showed disdain, while Lysa Arryn's gaze held even more contempt.
Renly, on the other hand, laughed.
"Lancelot, you're still young. In the last three hundred years, perhaps only Daemon Blackfyre was knighted at twelve. Even your father, Ser Jaime, didn't become a knight until he was fifteen."
"Uncle Renly, did you forget that Barristan entered a tourney at age ten? He even earned praise from Duncan the Tall!" Lancelot countered.
"Young people shouldn't bite off more than they can chew. You should be grounded. Being knighted is still too early for you," Stannis said, his face stern and expressionless.
"Lancelot, the tourney isn't a game. Besides, for Joff's nameday celebration, Father will be coming too. You really shouldn't participate," Jaime advised hesitantly.
He knew Lancelot had received knightly training since childhood, but those who dared to enter tourneys were either experts or young men desperate for fame.
"Brother, that's not right! I support you, Lancelot. Even though you aren't a knight yet, you can compete as a Mystery Knight. That is tradition; even the King cannot deny it."
Tyrion draped his arm around Lancelot's shoulders. Since he was already shorter than Lancelot, the pose looked a bit comical.
By this time, Robert had finally stopped coughing.
"Lancelot! We all know you and Joff are best friends, but if you lose badly—or worse, die horribly—Joff and Myrcella will be heartbroken."
Myrcella looked at Lancelot with worry.
"Lancelot, please don't enter the tourney. It's too scary!"
"Yeah, yeah! Don't do it, Lancelot! Last time, I saw a man's guts get pulled out," Tommen said, still shaken. He had watched a tourney last year and still woke up from nightmares about the bloody scene.
"No, I must participate. Grandfather happens to be coming as well. I want to prove to him that I am a true Lannister, a true lion," Lancelot declared firmly.
Seeing his determination, the others stopped trying to dissuade him. Some, however, were just waiting for a good show, hoping to see Lancelot—and House Lannister—humiliated.
Over the next few days, thanks to some intentional spreading of rumors, the news of Lancelot entering the tourney fermented further.
Many people now knew Lancelot's identity: Tywin Lannister's eldest grandson, the biological son of the Kingslayer Jaime Lannister, and the adopted son of the Imp, Tyrion. His Popularity Points were steadily rising.
Meanwhile, Lancelot was practicing his horsemanship.
He went to the stables with Jaime. This was the Lannister encampment in King's Landing.
House Lannister had over two thousand troops stationed in the city, even outnumbering House Baratheon's forces.
Walking down the streets of King's Landing, you would see Gold Cloaks everywhere, as well as Red Cloaks—the soldiers of House Lannister.
To prevent Lancelot from losing too badly, Jaime personally came to teach him how to use a lance.
Both were mounted on tall horses, standing side by side. However, Lancelot was much shorter than Jaime Lannister. After all, he was only twelve, while Jaime was thirty-two.
"Tournament lances are specially made. While they aren't as lethal as war lances, they can still pierce a man's throat, so never underestimate the tourney."
Jaime Lannister spoke earnestly.
Lancelot, however, was secretly observing Jaime's stats.
> Name: Jaime Lannister
> Identity: Eldest son of Warden of the West Tywin Lannister; Member of King Robert's Kingsguard.
> Class: Knight
> Strength: 18
> Speed: 18
> Intelligence: 15
> Spirit: 15
> Mana: 5
> Talent: Left-Handed Sword (Inactive)
"Jaime's Strength and Speed have both surpassed the human limit, reaching 18. His Intelligence and Spirit have also hit 15. Although his Mana isn't as high as mine, he still has 5 points."
"And Jaime actually has a hidden talent: Left-Handed Sword. Don't tell me it only activates after his right hand gets cut off? If that's the case, it's a real shame!"
Lancelot knew that in the original story, Jaime had his right hand chopped off by the Brave Companions (Bloody Mummers) and only later began learning left-handed swordsmanship.
Jaime was lecturing seriously, only to realize Lancelot wasn't paying attention. A look of displeasure crossed his face, and he swatted Lancelot on the back of the head.
"What are you doing! I'm telling you the key points of riding. Are you listening?"
"I am listening!" Lancelot said with a straight face.
"Then tell me, what is the key to horsemanship?"
"Unity of waist and horse! You must imagine yourself becoming one with the warhorse, your legs merging into its back. The horse is just your legs; the rider is the brain."
Although Lancelot's phrasing was a bit odd, Jaime felt there was some truth to it.
"Do you know who the best riders in the world are?"
"Knights of the Vale?" Lancelot asked.
"No, no, no. They claim to have the strongest cavalry in Westeros, but I'm talking about the best riders in the world."
" The Dothraki?" Lancelot asked again.
"Exactly. The Dothraki. They are practically the centaurs of legend; they are even called the Horselords. A Dothraki spends a third of his life sleeping and a third on horseback."
"Although we Westerosi knights look down on the Dothraki, in a one-on-one fight on foot, we have the advantage. But on horseback? They will win," Jaime Lannister said.
"So, are you going to teach me the secrets of Dothraki riding?" Lancelot stared at Jaime with his emerald green eyes, making Jaime look away slightly.
"No, I'm just telling you to be careful! Tourneys are very dangerous. Even I haven't won many championships!" Jaime said.