Noon.
After days of continuous travel, the mud and blood of the Riverlands were finally left behind.
But when the huge silhouette of King's Landing appeared before her eyes, Brienne of Tarth didn't feel much relief; instead, her heart felt somewhat heavy.
The closer she got, the unique scent of the capital rushed into her nostrils, making her breathless.
As the capital of the Seven Kingdoms, everyone on the continent held a unique longing for King's Landing, and Brienne was no exception.
But when she truly stood before this city, all her yearnings were instantly crushed.
Not that King's Landing wasn't majestic enough.
For Brienne, who grew up in the Stormlands, a super city like King's Landing capable of accommodating half a million people was shocking in both scale and architecture.
But no matter what, she just couldn't form a good first impression of King's Landing.
Because... it simply smelled too bad!
Just standing at the city gate, a nauseating stench hit her face. Even if she held her breath, the odor seemed to have a mind of its own, frantically drilling into her nostrils.
This stench wasn't ordinary; it was a unique blend of salty sea breeze, human sweat, and fermented excrement!
How to describe it? It was even more ridiculous than the smell Jaime emitted after not bathing for a year, rolling back and forth in horse urine and mud, mixed with the odor from his wounds!
One word.
Overpowering!
"Cough cough cough..."
Unable to help coughing a few times, Brienne rolled her eyes at Jaime irritably and couldn't help blaming him: "We could have entered directly through the Gate of the Gods. Why did you insist on taking this huge detour, Jaime?"
Hearing this, Jaime didn't answer immediately but looked up.
The bronze-bound iron gates stood open, like a giant beast lazily opening its mouth to swallow the flow of people. On the lintel, the ferocious roaring lion relief bared its fangs and claws, displaying oppressive power.
"A lion must act like a lion."
Jaime's voice carried a trace of long-lost pride. He even couldn't help closing his eyes to take a deep breath. That nauseating stench seemed incredibly nostalgic to him.
Under Brienne's look that suggested she was watching a fool, Jaime muttered to himself, as if cheering himself on: "A Lannister must enter through the Lion Gate!"
Towards his almost deliberate posturing, everyone tacitly remained silent.
Everyone understood that this guy had indeed suffered too much along the way.
Captured, hand severed, drank urine... displaced and destitute, his dignity trampled repeatedly.
At this moment, choosing this way to reclaim his shattered self, although appearing somewhat laughable, was also forgivable.
Only Iggo snorted coldly. Whether because Dothraki didn't understand the symbolic meaning of this stone nest, or because that big woman had largely ignored him along the way, was unknown.
Jaime straightened his back with satisfaction, gently squeezed the horse's belly, and was about to pass through the city gate in the most dignified posture.
However, just then...
"Get lost! Don't block the way, bumpkin!"
A rude scolding and hurried hoofbeats sounded from behind. Immediately after, a gorgeously adorned warhorse rushed past his side.
The rider wore a bright silk tunic with a feather in his cap, looking like a young squire. To grab the path, his riding crop almost brushed past the nose of Jaime's mount.
While passing, he even turned back, casting a disdainful and provocative glance at Jaime.
"Fuck!!"
Jaime's mount was startled, nearly throwing him off its back. Fortunately, his horsemanship was quite good, so he barely steadied himself.
Only, he was splattered all over by the dung kicked up by the other's horse hooves.
"Damn bastard!"
Jaime reacted and cursed loudly at the disappearing figure: "Blind fool, daring to call me a bumpkin!"
"I am..."
"Save it, Jaime."
Fearing he would blurt out shameful remarks like "My father is Tywin Lannister," Corleone hurried forward to dissuade him.
"But... but he called me a bumpkin!"
Jaime looked indignant.
He was Jaime Lannister!
The richest fucking second-generation heir in the Seven Kingdoms!
He suffered torture and disdain with the Brave Companions. If he returned to King's Landing only to be treated like this, wouldn't his return be in vain!
"He wasn't wrong."
Looking at his indignation, Corleone shrugged indifferently: "Look at yourself now. What are you if not a bumpkin?"
Hearing this, Jaime subconsciously looked down at himself.
Hmm...
Dressed in coarse linen stained with mud and dried blood, his carefully groomed golden hair greasy, knotted, and tangled together.
Face covered in dust and sweat stains, chin and cheeks sprouting messy stubble, and his right hand hanging in front of his chest with a simple cloth strip...
Hey!
Not gonna lie, looks pretty fucking similar!
Damn it...
Jaime was somewhat annoyed. When leaving Harrenhal, he should have asked Roose Bolton for a few decent outfits.
Returning to the Red Keep looking like this, would Cersei like it?
But before he could adjust his mindset, he was forcibly pushed aside by another force.
"Move aside, bumpkin."
Brienne rode her horse, rudely squeezing past between Jaime and Corleone, entering the Lion Gate first, leaving only her back to the group.
Jaime staggered from the push but said nothing more.
Instead, he glanced at Corleone beside him and shook his head helplessly.
Both knew very well that Brienne was still brooding over the events by the God's Eye.
A few days ago, when they finished dealing with the Karstark soldiers and rushed to the lakeside, Arya and the Hound were long gone, leaving only Corleone and two corpses at the scene.
Brienne instinctively wanted to chase because she didn't trust the Hound to treat a Stark well, but was stopped by Corleone.
He warned her: there was another Lady Stark in King's Landing waiting for her blade and oath.
Duty forced Brienne to give up the chase, but it also made her feel that the burden she carried was becoming heavier.
"Let's go, Blood of my blood!"
At the same time, Corleone also lightly shook the reins, shouting to the back, then rode towards the city gate.
"Wait..."
Seeing this, Jaime hurried to block Corleone's path, his expression carrying a trace of imperceptible... dependence?
Yes, along the way, he had long become accustomed to Corleone's planning and company. Seeing the other seemingly about to leave alone now, he felt somewhat at a loss.
"Where are you going?"
Jaime swallowed. He swore by the Seven Gods, even when charging at Robb Stark amidst thousands of troops, he had never been as nervous as now.
To keep Corleone, he even eagerly invited: "Aren't you going to the Red Keep with me to meet my father first?"
"Don't forget, the bathtub of Gold Dragons I promised hasn't been cashed yet!"
"That's not urgent."
Looking at his anxious appearance, Corleone just smiled and reached out, intending to pat Jaime's shoulder, but noticing the dung stains on this guy, he quickly withdrew his hand.
"You and Brienne go first, Jaime."
"Go accompany your family. Your sister, brother... having left King's Landing for so long, they must miss you very much."
Saying this, he paused: "A real man spends time with his family. A man who doesn't take care of his family can't be considered a real man."