A wager!

Tyrion pushed the Gold Dragons on the table forward, unwilling to give up, and cleared his throat.

"Ahem! Alayaya, and the rest of you-which of you will come drink and chat with me? All these Gold Dragons will be hers!"

Only then did Alayaya, Mary, and the others slowly turn to look at Tyrion.

A trace of surprise appeared on Mary's face.

"Oh my, Lord Tyrion, when did you get here? We didn't even notice!"

The girls did not so much as glance at the Gold Dragons.

It was not that they did not love money, but Davion had given them plenty too!

Tyrion's expression froze completely. The corners of his mouth twitched a few times, and for a moment, he could not find a word to say.

Seeing this, Shataya hurried forward to smooth things over with a smile.

As she arranged for five other girls to sit beside Tyrion, she apologized.

"Lord Tyrion, I'm terribly sorry. They got carried away and were so busy crowding around young Master Davion that they didn't notice you. Please don't be angry!"

With beautiful women at his side, the embarrassment on Tyrion's face quickly vanished. He immediately put on a playful grin and mocked himself.

"It's fine, it's fine. I'm used to it! I'm a dwarf, after all. I've never had much of a presence. Being overlooked is nothing new."

His willingness to poke fun at his own shortcomings instantly drew a chorus of giggles from the girls.

Watching this, Davion could not help feeling a private admiration.

Tyrion's ability to take things in stride was truly formidable.

An ordinary person would have flown into a humiliated rage at being belittled and mocked like this, yet he could calmly accept his own flaws.

He could even bring up his shortcomings in front of prostitutes. Such broad-mindedness and clarity were not qualities just anyone possessed.

Tyrion paid no mind at all to the mockery and contempt of people who had nothing to do with him.

What mattered more to him was his family-to be precise, Tywin Lannister and Jaime Lannister.

One was the father whose approval Tyrion longed for!

The other was the older brother who treated him better than anyone else in the world. At least, that was what Tyrion believed.

It was this very obsession that later caused him to break down completely when he learned those cruel truths, and to lash out all the more violently.

In the end, he killed his father Tywin with his own hands, severing every tie he had to House Lannister.

Thinking of everything Tyrion had suffered in his life, Davion could not help summing it up in a single word: miserable!

But on second thought, Tyrion bore some responsibility for all those tragedies himself.

There was something of reaping what he had sown about it.

Besides, the Lannisters had Gold Dragons to spare. He would never have to worry about food or clothing for the rest of his life.

Even with all his hardships, he was far better off than a pauper like Davion, who could barely hold on to his own lands. Who was Davion to pity him?

After several rounds of drinks, amid the clinking of cups, the unfamiliarity between them had long since faded, and their conversation grew more casual.

As they talked, the subject naturally turned to the Hand's Tourney soon to open in King's Landing.

At the mention of the Hand's Tourney, Tyrion's languid eyes instantly lit up, and his interest surged.

He was short himself, born unable to wield weapons and ride across the lists, but he had an older brother who could make all of Westeros take notice: Jaime Lannister,

the Kingsguard knight whose martial prowess was unrivaled in the Seven Kingdoms.

He set down his cup and leaned forward slightly, a teasing note in his voice.

"Davion, from what you said earlier, are you hoping to scrape a placing in the Hand's Tourney and earn a few Gold Dragons to help with household expenses?"

Davion lifted his cup and took a small sip, then looked up at Tyrion and said frankly,

"The championships! I have only one goal: to win every championship I can! Apart from the archery contest. I really am no good at that."

"Wow, wow, wow!"

Tyrion spread his arms and exclaimed in a wildly exaggerated tone, sweeping his gaze over the girls beside him.

"Girls, take a look! Here we are today, drinking with the future champion of the Hand's Tourney. What an incredible honor!"

The five girls beside Tyrion obligingly burst into laughter.

The five girls beside Davion, however, merely smiled without a word.

They had experienced Davion's formidable stamina firsthand.

Even the best of the famous knights who had visited the brothel could not compare to a tenth of Davion.

They firmly believed that if Davion said he could win a championship, he would do it.

"How about this, future champion!"

"If you really can do as you say and win both the joust and the melee..."

"No, no, no, there's no need for that much. If you win just one of them, I'll give you a hundred Gold Dragons!"

"But if you lose, whenever you run into me in a brothel again, you have to let me have any girl I take a fancy to!"

"Well? Do you dare wager?"

Davion raised his eyebrows, an amused smile appearing on his face, and feigned difficulty.

"Young Master Tyrion, that's hardly fair! These girls and I share a mutual affection and appreciation!"

"Isn't it a little cruel to tear us apart like that?"

"A hundred Gold Dragons is too little. You'll have to offer more!"

At that, Tyrion smiled confidently.

As far as he was concerned, stamina in bed and fighting ability on the battlefield were entirely different things.

Davion might have exceptional stamina, but the Hand's Tourney would be full of hidden talent. Brute strength alone would never be enough to win.

He waved a hand. "Then a thousand Gold Dragons! How about that?"

Davion laughed heartily and nodded without hesitation.

"You're on! Then let me thank you in advance, young Master Tyrion, for those thousand Gold Dragons to spend on whores!"

Tyrion laughed along, his laughter full of smug satisfaction, as though he could already see Davion's defeat.

"Hahahaha! Davion, you're still too young, too arrogant!"

"Do you know what you'll be facing if you want to win a championship at the Hand's Tourney?"

"You'll be facing the finest knights from across the Seven Kingdoms, as well as sellswords and hedge knights who have crossed the Narrow Sea. Every one of them is a veteran of countless battles, a man with no fear of death."

"There's also the Mountain of Casterly Rock, Gregor Clegane. He stands nearly eight feet tall, weighs a full four hundred and forty pounds, and has boundless strength. Countless knights have died at his hands!"

"And his younger brother, Sandor Clegane, known as the Hound. He stands six and a half feet tall and has a vicious temper. Nobody wants to face him head-on."

"Then there's the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Barristan 'the Bold' Selmy!"

"He's fought all his life and rarely known defeat. He's one of the most renowned knights in the Seven Kingdoms!"

"And most importantly of all, you'll also face the lion of the Westerlands, the greatest swordsman alive in Westeros, a knight of the king's Kingsguard-my older brother, Jaime Lannister!"

"Against men like these, you have absolutely no chance of winning!"