Gryn Guesses the Reason

The Free Cities, the mansion of the Magister in Pentos.

Brilliant sunlight flowed like water, and a few thin, white clouds drifted slowly with the breeze.

Daenerys Targaryen, the future Mother of Dragons, knelt in a corner of the bedroom, using her delicate arms to cover her body in a futile attempt at modesty.

After arriving in Pentos, Magister Illyrio Mopatis had gifted her a sheer, pale blue dress. The craftsmanship was exquisite, and it was both beautiful and cool to wear; Daenerys had been very fond of Illyrio Mopatis's gift.

Yet, at this moment, Daenerys's favorite dress had been violently torn into shreds by her only kin, her brother Viserys Targaryen, and now lay scattered all around her.

Daenerys's thick silver hair curled in a disheveled, soft beauty.

A pair of violet eyes held crystalline tears, suffused with sorrow from the pain of the moment.

Her skin was as fair as milk, and with her petite frame and peerless beauty, Daenerys looked like an elf.

The handmaiden rubbed her still-aching stomach, struggled to her feet, and with an expression of unbearable pity, picked up a blanket to wrap around Daenerys.

Daenerys met the handmaiden's gaze with sorrow-filled eyes: "Are you alright? I'm sorry, I was afraid... I didn't dare protect you, yet you were hurt trying to protect me."

The handmaiden shook her head, comforting her: "Your Grace, I am fine. Let me help you up."

Daenerys's own brother, Viserys Targaryen, was the second son of the Mad King Aerys Targaryen II and Queen Rhaella Targaryen, and he styled himself Viserys Targaryen III.

After the War of the Usurper, the Targaryen survivor Viserys took his sister Daenerys and fled Westeros. Claiming to be the King of Westeros, he visited the various Free Cities, seeking allies and funding while evading pursuit. He suffered cold shoulders and contempt, eventually being forced to sell even his mother's crown, which earned him the insulting title of the "Beggar King."

After selling his mother's crown, Viserys's temperament became increasingly irritable and unbearable.

Daenerys deeply missed the boy from her childhood who told her stories of the Seven Kingdoms, the Viserys who had painted a picture of a beautiful life for her once they ascended the throne.

Daenerys harbored a desperate hope that the brother buried deep in her memories could return to her side.

The day after receiving the Queen's appointment letter, Gryn wore his bright silver plate armor for a rare occasion, draped in a blue cloak embroidered with his house sigil.

Mutton Waters, clad in full plate, carrying a large round shield and a warhammer, served as his guard.

The guards at the gates of the Red Keep, several Gold Cloaks, only asked a few simple questions after seeing Gryn's appointment letter before letting them pass; Gryn and Mutton entered the Red Keep smoothly.

There was no body search, and they were not even required to hand over their weapons to the Gold Cloaks.

Lord Gryn mentally noted that King Robert's Red Keep was a place devoid of any sense of crisis.

Mutton's eyes, lacking in wisdom, were filled with curiosity, constantly scanning his surroundings.

Gryn was in no hurry, moving slowly in the direction previously indicated by the Gold Cloaks.

After walking for a short while, a blond man in silver armor and a white cloak appeared quietly in Gryn's line of sight.

The blond man was tall and handsome, with a pair of shining green eyes.

Gryn guessed this person was Jaime Lannister; he had sensed a trace of killing intent the moment he appeared, though it vanished very quickly.

Having grown up in a perilous environment, combined with the physical attributes enhanced since his transmigration, Gryn had keenly captured the fleeting killing intent on Jaime.

Gryn guessed the reason, and after a moment of thought, his expression turned strange.

Gryn could only think of one answer.

Jealousy? He doesn't think I'm some pretty boy, does he? A paramour for the Queen who arrived from afar?

Is this what they call "love-brained"? I rely on hard power to eat; there is absolutely no need for that!

Gryn pondered, but showed nothing on his face, walking over naturally and bowing with a hand over his chest: "Good day, Ser White Knight?"

Jaime leaned on his longsword, his eyes scanning the delicate-featured Gryn up and down, his voice tinged with arrogance: "I am Jaime of the Kingsguard. Little savage, are you Lord Gryn Crabb?"

Gryn's expression remained calm: "It is indeed this humble one, Ser Jaime."

Jaime's eyebrows arched; Tyrion's assessment was indeed correct, his composure was very mature.

If it were an average young man who had just inherited his family's lands, it would be normal to at least show some displeasure at this point.

Although Jaime was annoyed by Gryn, he had no interest in continuing to make things difficult on purpose, so he said indifferently: "Follow me, little lord."

Gryn offered his thanks, gave Mutton a look, and set off.

The simple-minded Mutton Waters did not understand what command Gryn had issued with that look, and it was not the right time to ask.

Mutton Waters scratched his head and reached for the warhammer at his waist.

Is he telling me to smash the head of that arrogant man in front?

Gryn noticed Mutton's small movement, tilted his head, and whispered: "Keep up."

Oh, I overthought it!

Mutton Waters responded honestly, followed Gryn, and continued to look around with curiosity.

Gryn naturally quickened his pace a few steps to walk shoulder-to-shoulder with Jaime: "Ser Jaime, if I may ask, what exactly does the Queen's steward do?"

Are we that close?

Jaime slanted a glance at him: "Didn't you try asking Tyrion about it?"

Could it be that Jaime was jealous of Tyrion? A terrifying brother-complex?

Gryn guessed at another reason for the killing intent Jaime had directed at him earlier.

Gryn sighed: "I thought I was the one avoiding Lord Tyrion, but yesterday I realized he was avoiding me too. We both suffered, and now we are mutually terrified of one another."

Jaime recalled Tyrion's haggard appearance and couldn't help but laugh: "Tyrion told me yesterday that he would never touch wine again for the rest of his life."

Gryn also laughed as he said: "On the third day I knew Lord Tyrion, I heard similar words from him, but the result only lasted for half a day."

"With Lord Tyrion's wisdom and eloquence, he can always find a better reason that makes it impossible for you to refuse."

Gryn's words were full of praise for Tyrion, which put Jaime in a good mood.

Within Jaime's line of sight, Gryn's features were delicate and gentle; it was hard not to feel a sense of affinity toward him.

Jaime, who had originally begun a pleasant conversation with Gryn, suddenly recalled something and reverted to his icy expression.

Tsk, a tsundere?

Gryn, possessing a "big picture" mindset, did not hold Jaime's tsundere behavior against him.

We'll talk about it later.