The study in the Prime Minister's Tower smells of aged parchment, sealing wax and ink.
That's the smell of power.
Hand of the King, Tywin Lannister sat behind a huge oak table, with high windows behind him. The morning light was cut into thin strips of light by the leaded glass, which happened to fall on the file in front of him, and the quill made a rustling sound on the paper.
There was a knock on the door.
A Red-cloaked Knight stepped forward and announced softly, "My lord, Petyr Baelish Earl wishes to see you."
"Make him wait."
Tywin continued writing without raising his head, and did not put down his pen until he finished writing the last word.
He picked up the silver bell on the table and shook it. The attendant immediately came in and replaced him with a cup of newly brewed Bitterleaf tea, which was produced in the mountains near Casterly Rock City. It was very bitter, but it could refresh him.
Soon, Petyr Baelish was brought in by his attendants.
"Your Majesty Prime Minister." He bowed slightly, with his usual elegant smile on his lips.
"Sit."
Tywin's words were concise and concise, and his tone was not an invitation, but more of a command.
After Petyr sat down, he leaned back on the chair, staring directly at Harrenhal Earl with his green eyes, without asking a question.
The study was so quiet that you could hear the crackle of wood burning in the fireplace.
Petyr's smile gradually became a little stiff, but he quickly adjusted his sitting posture and cleared his throat. "In view of Gregor Ser taking back Harrenhal...
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"As Harrenhal Earl, I have already drawn up the sowing plan for next spring in the territory and asked people to recalculate the distribution of seeds and agricultural tools..
"There are also taxes. I plan to double the taxes around Harrenhal, so that more money can be given to the Iron Throne...
He reported his rule plan in a clear and logical manner, and Tywin just listened quietly from beginning to end without interrupting or expressing any opinions.
When Petyr really had nothing else to say and sat on a chair and looked at Tywin longingly, he slowly spoke.
"You are Harrenhal Earl, Lord Petyr. These matters are matters within your territory. There is no need to report to me."
"If I have nothing else to say, I still have things to do...
"My lord."
Seeing that the Prime Minister was about to see off the guests, Petyr quickly interrupted him and said bravely, "I heard... it was quite lively in King's Landing today. It is said that the king and his party encountered a riot at Cured Meat Street."
As soon as he said these words, Tywin's eyes became a little cold, and he quickly pretended to be relaxed and said, "Oh, you know, King's Landing is always like this, there will be trouble here today, and there will be a fight there tomorrow."
"You are always well informed, Lord Petyr."
Tywin interrupted him, his voice calm and without any emotion. "Even I just saw the report sent by Adam Malbrand."
"It's only been two hours since Cured Meat Street happened."
As he spoke, he reached out, picked up a roll of parchment that still smelled of fresh ink from the edge of the table, and placed it gently on the table.
"People go to prostitutes all the time."
Petyr smiled and explained, "When visiting prostitutes, they always talk about innocuous topics. I also overheard this news on Silk Street."
"Within one year, the king suffered two mob attacks. I feel it is necessary to discuss with you the security issues in King's Landing."
"After all, the population is too large, and there is a mixture of good and bad. We must strengthen public security management, send more golden robe patrols, or drive away those useless poor people...
"Really?"
Tywin leaned forward slightly, folded his hands and looked at Petyr: "Just like when you accidentally heard that Loras Tyrell planned to marry Sansa Stark?"
Hearing this, Petyr's fingers tightened slightly in his sleeves, but the smile on his face did not change, and even became brighter.
"This is what I should do, sir."
"When I first received the news, I thought that the combination of the Tyrell family and Stark might have an impact on your rule."
"I tell you this news only to express my loyalty to the Iron Throne...
"Your loyalty has been demonstrated enough." Tywin sneered.
"However, after I finalized the engagement between Loras and Cersei, that guy happened to disappear on the day of the engagement.
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"And I also heard that the attendant named Aiden has always lived in Silk Street."
"Haha, that's a coincidence..." Petyr laughed twice.
When someone called Aiden away from Silk Street, he actually knew about it, but he only had a laissez-faire attitude and did not stop it.
After all, for Petyr, the muddier the waters of King's Landing, the better. The alliance between the Tyrell family and the Lannister family is too solid, and he cannot gain much benefit from it.
I just didn't expect that Tywin would bring this up today.
"I remember that half a month ago, the Royal Council decided to send you to the Eyrie to marry Lysa Tully."
Tywin stood up, his burly figure looking a bit aggressive. "Why are you still in King's Landing now, Lord Petyr, and why are you so... interested in the security management of the capital?"
As soon as these words came out, the air suddenly solidified.
The fire in the fireplace was still burning, but the temperature in the study seemed to be dropping suddenly.
Petyr could hear his own heartbeat, beating again and again. Ever since he learned the lesson from what happened with Cersei, he became suspicious, fearing that in the next second, two hundred axemen would break in from outside the study and chop him down.
But soon, he forced himself to calm down.
Tywin is not his crazy criticizing daughter. Killing him will not do any good to the Prime Minister.
With this thought in mind, Petyr took a deep breath and adjusted his strategy.
Since detours are ineffective, let's go straight to the point.
"Your Majesty Prime Minister."
He lowered his voice, leaned forward, and made a sincere gesture. "Please allow me to say something offensive, Vito Corleone has only been in King's Landing for less than a month, and he has already transformed from a commoner into Chief Intelligence Officer of the Small Council. You have shown extraordinary appreciation and tolerance for him."
"But now, that guy is planning to obtain the knighthood. Is the speed of this identity transition too fast?"
Hearing this, Tywin did not interrupt, but just looked at him quietly, seeming to be thinking.
Petyr also continued to strike while the iron was hot, "You should be able to tell that Corleone has quite a conspiracy."
"Flea Bottom has now been completely transformed. Several casinos have been opened one after another. Their business covers five or six nearby blocks. They also include the businesses of Fisherman's Square and the pier."
"It is said that even several brothel owners on Silk Street have signed private agreements with him and will soon open branches there."
"The most important thing is that when his Fighting Arena opens, Prince Oberyn Martell will be there in person to perform the opening ceremony!"
As he spoke, he paused and said calmly, "When the time comes, House of Order will be the most profitable place in Junlin in the future, and all of this is in the hands of Vito·Corleone.
"Once you make that guy a knight, what's the next step? Earl?"
"When the time comes, to what extent will his ambition expand, will he still be willing to just be...Hands in the Dark"?"
After finishing speaking in one breath, Petyr leaned back in his chair, with the same smile on his lips as before, quietly waiting for Tywin to make a decision.
Based on his understanding of Old Lion, the other party would definitely not allow such an ambitious guy to develop and grow under his nose.
However, Tywin did not speak immediately.
He just walked slowly to the fireplace, the flames dancing on his face, making those deep wrinkles harder.
He reached out and picked up the fire tongs and fiddled with the firewood, causing sparks to fly.
After a moment, he turned around and said, "Do you know why I tolerate you, Baelish?"
"It's not because of your intelligence. There are many smart people. It's not because of your ability. There are also many capable people. Even Tyrion didn't do too badly after becoming Lord Treasurer."
With that said, Tywin walked back to the table, but did not sit down. Instead, he stood in front of Petyr, looking down at him.
"I tolerate you because you know how to measure. You know what lines can be stepped on and what lines cannot be touched."
"You play tricks, but you control them within the rules. You gain profits, but you are not too greedy."
"But now, you've crossed a line."
Tywin's voice gradually became colder. "Corleone is my person. I personally selected and appointed Chief Intelligence Officer of the Small Council."
"Every ounce of his power was given by me. Since I can give him power, I can naturally take it back at any time."
"And you, now trying to tell me, my chess piece is going out of control, why, because his casino affects your business, or are you coveting the territory in Flea Bottom that everyone avoided before?"
Every word struck Petyr's heart. Looking at Old Lion's stern eyes, he wanted to speak, but Tywin raised a hand to stop him.
"You promised to go to the Eyrie."
Tywin said every word without any room for change, "Go now."
"I give you a week to prepare for departure. Before Roose Bolton and his army return to the North, I want to hear the news of your marriage to Lysa Tully."
He paused and added the last sentence, "This is the decision of the Royal Council, not a suggestion or a discussion."
The study fell silent again.
After a long time, Petyr stood up slowly, his movements steady, and he even put a smile on his face again.
Although it's a bit stiff, like a mask that doesn't fit the face well.
"As you wish, Prime Minister."
He bowed deeply, his posture was perfect. "I will arrange the affairs of King's Landing and leave for the Vale within a week."
"When Luce Bolton returns to the North, you will hear about me becoming Duke of the Eyrie, I promise."
Seeing his loyal demeanor, Tywin did not respond. He just sat back on the chair, picked up the quill, and began to review the documents.
That gesture made it clear that the conversation was over.
Petyr turned and left.
His steps were steady and his back was straight, like a nobleman who accepted his fate calmly.
But the moment Petyr walked out of the study and the door closed behind him, the smile on his lips turned slightly proud.
The seeds of doubt have been planted.
Even if Tywin took this opportunity to beat himself up, that Farmer climbed too fast and had already aroused the lion's vigilance.
This thing of trust is actually as thin as a layer of ice and may collapse at any time.
Walking down the spiral staircase of the Prime Minister's Tower, Petyr's steps were as brisk as a dance.
A week?
Enough.
It was enough for him to meet the people he needed to see, say the things he needed to say, and plant the last seed.
In the study, Tywin put down his pen.
He walked to the window and watched Petyr's figure cross the courtyard of the Red Keep and disappear behind the arch.
That is the direction of the Minister of Justice's residence.
Commander of the City Watch Adam Malbrand soon appeared at the door.
"Keep an eye on him." Tywin ordered without looking back, "This week, I want to know everyone he meets and every word he says."
"Yes, sir."
Adam hesitated. "Then Corleone...
Tywin was silent for a moment.
"Staring too."
Adam bowed and left.
Tywin continued to stand by the window, watching the people coming and going in the courtyard.
Knights, attendants, officials, nobles... Everyone is looking for their own way in this maze of power.
Some people have found it.
Some people are lost.
Others think they have found it, but are actually walking towards the cliff.
Tywin turned around, returned to the table, and continued to pick up the documents that would never be finished.
The sunlight slanted in from the high window, forming a circle of light above his head, like a dazzling crown.