CHAPTER 174
King's Landing, the Red Keep.
Tyrion Lannister yawned as he pushed open the heavy oak doors of the Small Council chamber.
The previous night, he had spent nearly the entire evening reviewing the crown's accounts, squeezing every possible gold dragon from the treasury to pay for King Joffrey's extravagant wedding celebrations.
Only at dawn had he finally given in to exhaustion, wine, and women before falling into a deep sleep.
As a result, he had barely rested before being summoned to attend the Small Council.
Standing in the doorway, Tyrion narrowed his sleepy green eyes and surveyed the room.
At the head of the long table sat Lord Tywin Lannister, Hand of the King, his face as cold and expressionless as carved stone.
To Tywin's left sat Queen Regent Cersei Lannister.
She wore an elegant crimson silk gown and slowly swirled a goblet of wine, her sharp eyes constantly moving around the chamber with habitual suspicion.
Further down sat Lord Petyr Baelish, smiling as though every conversation amused him, while beside him lounged Lord Varys, the Master of Whisperers, whose true thoughts remained hidden behind his soft smile.
Opposite Cersei sat Ser Garlan Tyrell.
Handsome, courteous, and impeccably dressed, he represented Highgarden and House Tyrell during the council while Lord Mace Tyrell remained occupied preparing Lady Margaery's arrival.
Beside Ser Garlan sat Ser Kevan Lannister.
He acknowledged Tyrion with a slight nod.
As expected, Tyrion's chair had been thoughtfully placed at the very end of the long table.
It was the seat furthest from Lord Tywin.
The least important position.
"Oh."
"You actually remembered to save me a chair."
Tyrion smiled with his usual mixture of mockery and self-deprecation.
Under everyone's watchful gaze, however, he ignored the seat entirely.
Instead, he walked to the opposite end of the chamber.
With a loud scraping sound, he dragged the chair all the way around the table until it stood directly opposite Tywin.
Only then did he climb into it, crossing his legs as he stared directly across the table at his father.
Cersei's lips twitched in disgust.
Tywin did not even bother looking at him.
It was as though Tyrion did not exist.
"Now that everyone is present."
"We'll begin."
Tywin's emotionless gaze shifted toward Varys.
"My lord."
Varys folded his hands into his sleeves before speaking softly.
"Unfortunate news has arrived from Storm's End."
"King Robert's acknowledged bastard, Edric Storm, accidentally fell from the castle walls."
"The poor boy did not survive."
A trace of satisfaction appeared on Cersei's face.
"A bastard should have died long ago."
She immediately asked,
"What about Gendry?"
"Has there been any news?"
Varys slowly shook his head.
"I regret to say no, Your Grace."
"My little birds have searched throughout much of the Crownlands."
"There is still no sign of the blacksmith or Arya Stark."
"Either they have already left the Crownlands..."
"Or they are dead."
Cersei's smile disappeared.
She muttered a curse beneath her breath.
Tywin remained completely indifferent.
To him, the fate of another royal bastard was insignificant.
He turned toward Ser Garlan.
"When will Lady Olenna and Lady Margaery reach King's Landing?"
Ser Garlan respectfully answered,
"My lord."
"My grandmother and sister should arrive in approximately five days."
"The grain caravans and supplies from Highgarden will accompany them."
"Good."
Tywin gave a slight nod before looking toward Tyrion.
"How are the preparations for the royal wedding?"
Tyrion sighed dramatically.
"Oh, Father."
"If you're referring to the celebration that will reduce the royal treasury to tears..."
"Everything is proceeding wonderfully."
"We've gathered the finest singers and musicians in Westeros."
"There will be mummers, jugglers, feasts..."
"And even a grand tourney worthy of His Grace."
"I assure you."
"No one will ever forget it."
The sarcasm dripping from his voice did not bother Tywin.
Results were all that mattered.
"Excellent."
"Now..."
"The Riverlands."
Tywin lightly tapped one finger upon the table.
"Lord Varys."
"Tell everyone what our northern friend has sent."
Varys withdrew a letter from his sleeve.
"This message arrived from Lord Roose Bolton."
"Stannis Baratheon has landed at Saltpans with the remnants of his army."
"He has requested a meeting with Robb Stark at the Trident crossings."
"The purpose is apparently to discuss cooperation."
Tyrion leaned comfortably against his chair.
"A stag with broken antlers."
"And a wounded young wolf."
"What an entertaining pair."
He lazily asked,
"Did Robb personally go?"
Tywin's expression remained unchanged.
"Who commands Riverrun now?"
Varys calmly replied,
"According to my little birds..."
"Ser Brynden Tully remains at Riverrun."
"And..."
"Lord Garon Glover."
As he spoke the final name, Varys quietly observed Tyrion.
The effect was immediate.
The smile vanished from Tyrion's face.
He instinctively sat upright.
Across the table, Cersei's grip around her wine goblet visibly tightened.
Tywin immediately noticed both reactions.
"This man."
"What is so unusual about him?"
Tyrion leaned forward.
"Oh, Father."
"You've spent so many years governing the Westerlands."
"You may not know every rising lord in the North."
"Garon Glover..."
"Could almost be considered an old acquaintance of House Lannister."
He deliberately paused.
"When King Robert visited Winterfell..."
"Prince Joffrey insisted upon a trial by combat over Lady Sansa Stark."
"The knight fighting for the prince..."
"Was killed by Garon in full view of the entire royal court."
He chuckled.
"It was quite unforgettable."
Cersei's expression darkened further.
Tyrion continued.
"That wasn't all."
"My dear brother Jaime later nearly crossed swords with him because of another misunderstanding."
"If Jaime hadn't withdrawn when he did..."
"The Kingsguard might have lost another knight."
He had intended to continue warning everyone about Garon's abilities.
Instead, the council chamber doors suddenly burst open.
Joffrey Baratheon stormed inside, his face flushed with rage.
"Why wasn't I informed?"
"I'm the King!"
He strode directly behind Cersei.
"You dare hold a council without me?"
"You ignore your king!"
"Joffrey."
Cersei immediately stood, glancing uneasily toward Tywin.
"My sweet boy..."
"You are still young."
Joffrey spun around furiously.
"Mother."
"Remember who you're speaking to."
"I am the King."
He pointed angrily toward everyone present.
"I order you to march immediately."
"Kill that usurper wolf."
"And kill my traitorous uncle."
Tywin slowly raised his eyes.
"We are discussing war."
"This is not a place for children."
"Return to your chambers."
"I won't."
Joffrey's face became bright red.
"I am the King."
"I command..."
Tywin interrupted without raising his voice.
"Any man who must constantly remind others that he is king..."
"Is no true king."
"I'll say it one final time."
"Leave."
Joffrey froze.
Meeting Tywin's cold gaze, genuine fear finally overcame his anger.
His mouth opened.
No words emerged.
After several silent moments, he stamped his foot before storming from the chamber.
The heavy doors slammed shut behind him.
Tywin acted as though nothing had happened.
"Continue."
Tyrion watched Joffrey disappear before returning to the discussion.
"Father."
"Garon possesses extraordinary skill with a sword."
"But his greatest strength isn't martial ability."
"It's strategy."
"He completely crushed the Ironborn invasion of the North."
"Victarion Greyjoy himself died during the campaign."
"And..."
"The fact that Garon has now arrived in the Riverlands can only mean one thing."
"The Iron Islands have reached an agreement with him."
Tywin listened quietly.
Although his expression never changed, the name Garon Glover became firmly etched into his thoughts.
Outwardly, however, he dismissed it.
"Even Lord Bolton understands where the tide of war is flowing."
"One Northern lord will not change the outcome."
He immediately turned toward Ser Kevan.
"Kevan."
"Take five thousand Westermen."
"Along with the hired sellswords."
"March immediately."
"Secure Harrenhal."
"It is the key to the Riverlands."
"It must not fall into Stark hands."
He continued calmly,
"As for Roose Bolton..."
"If his loyalty proves genuine..."
"Then cooperate fully."
A cruel smile finally appeared upon Tywin's face.
"Tell our messenger."
"I care nothing for his methods."
"I care only for results."
"If he delivers Robb Stark's head..."
"And returns my son Jaime safely to Casterly Rock..."
"I'll advise King Joffrey to name him Warden of the North."
Kevan nodded.
"I'll depart this afternoon."
At that moment, Petyr Baelish finally spoke.
"My lord Hand."
"If the North remains uncertain..."
"Perhaps we should secure another kingdom."
"The Vale."
Everyone turned toward him.
"Lady Lysa Arryn has always held great affection..."
"For certain people."
Littlefinger's meaningful glance settled briefly upon Cersei.
She immediately understood the reminder.
It referred to the promise she had once made him.
"If you permit."
"I'll personally travel to the Eyrie."
"I'll persuade Lady Arryn to bring the Knights of the Vale into the king's cause."
After a brief pause, Cersei nodded.
"I support Lord Baelish."
"The Vale possesses one of the finest armies in Westeros."
"If we secure its allegiance..."
"Our victory will be unquestionable."
Tywin instantly understood the unspoken bargain between Cersei and Baelish.
He chose not to interfere.
"Very well."
"Lord Baelish."
"You have my permission."
"Bring the Vale into the king's peace."
"And His Grace will reward you generously."
Littlefinger gracefully rose.
"It would be my honor, my lord."
The smile upon his lips deepened.
Tywin stood.
"That concludes today's council."
"Return to your duties."
"I expect King's Landing to be perfectly prepared before Lady Margaery arrives."
Without another word, he left the chamber.
One after another, the remaining councillors also departed.
Only Tyrion lingered briefly.
"Garon Glover..."
He quietly repeated the name to himself.
For reasons he could not fully explain, an uneasy feeling settled deep within his heart.
Far away in the Riverlands, Robb Stark's army had also reached the Trident crossings, where Stannis Baratheon awaited.
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