Tower of the Hand (End)

A dreamer does not like another dreamer.

Gryn did not want to take the bait.

Lord Jon's will to have Gryn leave King's Landing was firm.

It was now mid-September of 297 AC, and according to the plot, there was about half a year left until Lord Jon's exit.

If he delayed reasonably, could Gryn drag it out until that time?

It could be said that Gryn's perfectly good plan had been ruined by Littlefinger Petyr.

Gryn had two important reasons for keeping Petyr alive.

The first reason was that Gryn needed to keep Petyr to join forces with Lady Lysa Arryn to finish off Lord Jon.

The second reason was that Petyr's petty schemes had forced Gryn to face Lord Jon prematurely. Gryn had suppressed his murderous intent so that Petyr could resolve the trouble he had stirred up; this was the path of least cost, and it was the very motivation for Gryn's "visit" to Petyr that night.

With Petyr's shrewdness, he knew what to do next to be most advantageous to himself.

Would Petyr secretly plot revenge against Gryn afterward? Gryn would not be a passive player, waiting for someone to strike him, only to parry and strike back in a tedious back-and-forth.

That was not Gryn's personality. Regardless of whether Petyr acted intentionally or accidentally, the moment he kicked the "iron plate" that was Gryn, he had already made it onto Gryn's must-kill list.

After Lord Jon's exit, provided there were no major changes, Gryn would not be foolish enough to keep Petyr around for the new year.

The reason for these prerequisites was that one of Gryn's feet had already stepped into the Game of Thrones. In the Game of Thrones, there were no permanent enemies; players of the game must always be flexible.

Being enfeoffed as Warden of the Peninsula would naturally be excellent, but Gryn and Lord Jon were not equals in status, and there could be no fairness in a transaction between unequal parties.

Gryn did not even want to hear the details of Lord Jon's deal.

Gryn shook his head and said with a sincere tone, "I am very grateful for your lordship's regard, but to occupy a position, one must first bear its weight. My abilities are not yet worthy of the title of Warden."

Lord Jon suddenly recalled a type of slippery, hard-to-catch fish from the Stormlands that Robert Baratheon had told him about when they were boys—what was the name again...

Lord Jon pulled his thoughts back from his memories and spoke, "Perhaps once you complete my task, you will be worthy of the title of Warden."

The sense of powerlessness brought on by Lord Jon's pressure made Gryn uncomfortable.

Gryn forcefully suppressed the murderous intent that had flared up in his heart for an instant.

Gryn felt that compared to the superficially kind Lord Jon, the superficially overbearing Queen Cersei was actually quite cute.

At this moment, Gryn missed Boss Cersei dearly.

Gryn deliberately put on a conflicted expression and said weakly, "My lord, as long as it does not violate the honor of Crabb, I will listen first."

Lord Jon did not like Gryn, and the task he intended to assign certainly wouldn't be something they would both be happy about; Gryn was leaving himself some leeway in his reply.

You have the nerve to talk to me about noble honor? In Lord Jon's view, Gryn, who refused to admit his crimes, was not honorable at all.

After a pause, Lord Jon spoke, "You know that two young dragons of the Dragon House survived, don't you?"

Having said that, Lord Jon stared at Gryn without blinking.

Gryn first shook his head subconsciously, then his pupils dilated and contracted.

After a moment of silence, Gryn sighed, "Lord Jon, the war ended long ago. The winner has already been decided."

Lord Jon carried the stubbornness of an old man, "As long as the blood of the Dragon House..."

The sharp-witted Gryn suddenly sensed the prying of a third party.

Gryn stood up from his chair abruptly, "Pardon me, my lord, is there a third person in the study?"

Lord Jon, who had been on the verge of scolding Gryn for the interruption, also reacted to Gryn's sudden movement. He narrowed his eyes and shook his head.

Gryn nodded, walked a few steps to a corner of the back wall of the study, and raised his hand to tap on it with the back of his hand.

Although he could not hear any strange sounds, Gryn stated firmly, "It is likely this position. I suddenly felt the presence of a third person."

Gryn had no reason to play such a joke on him. Lord Jon rose tremblingly and called out, "Guards!"

No sooner had Lord Jon finished speaking than the study door was kicked open with a bang, and four Gold Cloaks strode in one after another.

After entering, the Gold Cloaks drew their swords one by one, preparing to approach Gryn.

Lord Jon waved his hand, "Go check the wall by the Little Baron. Check it carefully."

Gryn stepped aside, allowing the four Gold Cloaks to tap and strike at the wall.

After checking for quite a while, just as Lord Jon was about to lose his patience, a sharp-eyed Gold Cloak pointed to a very inconspicuous spot and said, "My lord, the gap here is not right."

Lord Jon glanced at the calm Gryn and gave a decisive order, "Go get a hammer and knock it open for me to see."

A Gold Cloak left the study and returned with two large hammers.

Once they had the hammers, the Gold Cloaks swung them against the wall.

Bang! Bang! Bang! The swinging hammers kicked up a large cloud of dust.

With a loud crash, a large section of the wall collapsed inward.

As the dust settled, a narrow space was revealed.

After coughing for a moment, Lord Jon's expression turned icy. "No wonder the Red Keep has no secrets."

Gryn felt he should take his leave and said to Lord Jon, "My Lord, I shall withdraw."

Lord Jon's gaze did not leave the smashed-open partition; he merely nodded.

Just as Gryn reached the door of the study, Lord Jon's voice drifted over: "Little Baron, I will grant you the reward you deserve for today's events."

Gryn had no choice but to stop, turn, and bow.

"Also, given your intelligence, you should have understood my meaning. I give you one month; I expect a definitive answer by then."

Outside the gates of the Tower of the Hand.

The moment Gryn stepped out of the Tower of the Hand, the first thing he noticed was a sleepy-looking Tyrion.

Behind Tyrion stood a group of Lannister Red Cloaks in full armor, numbering about twenty.

Mutton and Anguy immediately moved closer to Gryn.

Anguy whispered, "My Lord, they arrived just after you went in."

Hearing this, Gryn gave a slight nod and stepped toward Tyrion. "Good day, Ser Tyrion."

Tyrion blinked his bleary eyes, first gesturing for the Lannister Red Cloaks to leave before saying, "You came out too early. A pity; had you been a moment later, you could have witnessed the ferocity of Ser Tyrion and the roar of the lion."

Gryn smiled and patted Tyrion's arm lightly in gratitude.

Tyrion pursed his lips and chuckled. "You should thank Jaime more. I couldn't command the Red Cloaks; this was Jaime's arrangement."

Gryn smiled. "I should thank you both. Had I known the lion was waiting outside, I would have given the old Lord a couple of punches."

Tyrion laughed heartily. "I like your metaphor. It seems the meeting today went reasonably well?"

Gryn spread his hands. "I still have some time."

Tyrion reached out and patted Gryn's thigh. "That counts as good news. We'll think of a way slowly. The two smartest brains in King's Landing are right here, so relax."

Tyrion added with a grin, "My dear sister has actually invited us to lunch. I am flattered; this is all thanks to you. Your skills are truly excellent—you served her very comfortably, hehe."

Not knowing how to respond, Gryn: "..."