"Then your second son..." Tommen looked at Herb: "Is he your heir?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Upon hearing the king's question, Rivere patted his son's shoulder, the action was heavy and showed an undisguised pride.
"Herb has been very sensible since he was a child. He is not as dreamy as his brother, but he is very diligent and serious. In the past few months, he has been practicing swordplay with the instructor every day, rain or shine, and his fingers have worn out several layers of skin!"
Hearing this, Herb's face turned slightly red and he lowered his head and said nothing.
These days, he has indeed worn out several layers of skin on his fingers, but it was not from holding a sword, but from the Silk Street.
But the part about practicing diligently is not a lie, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to rush to Silk Street and stay there for two weeks as soon as he came out of seclusion.
Two days ago, when Oberyn was being hunted, he was lying on the window sill and watching.
But Herb knew how much he weighed, so he just took a quick look at it and quickly closed the window, locked the door and continued to be happy.
Here, Riverey continued to brag to the king, "Not only that, Herb also learned the knowledge of managing the territory from the bachelor, and studied history, law, and economics!"
The more he talked, the more enthusiastic he became, and his eyes when he looked at his son were full of love.
"Seriously, Your Majesty, if Princess Myrcella hadn't already been engaged to Prince, Trystane of Dorne, I would have let him pursue the princess. He deserves it!"
As soon as these words came out, the air suddenly became quiet.
Cersei Lannister stood up from her seat.
Her dark green skirt dragged on the slate floor, making a slight rustling sound, as she walked in front of Riveri.
The two were several feet apart.
The smile on Rivery's face did not change, but his hand holding his son's arm tightened slightly.
"Earl Lych."
"You just said that if Myrcella was not engaged, you would let your son pursue her?"
As soon as these words came out, Redford immediately heard the sarcasm in Queen Mother's tone.
Earl Lych I remember that he said a lot of stupid things in his life.
Fifteen years ago, he drank too much at the banquet and boasted publicly that his fleet could defeat Royal Fleet in Blackwater Bay. At that time, King Robert just walked into the hall, clamoring for Stannis to challenge him to a duel.
Ten years ago, he proposed at the royal council to waive the taxes paid by Duskendale Town, on the grounds that "anyway, the money that Duskendale Town pays to the Iron Throne is the lowest among the royal family, so there is no harm in waiving it."
At that time, Lord Jon Arryn, Hand of the King, was still alive, and then... the taxes paid in Duskendale were increased by 10%.
Five years ago, he declared at the harvest celebration in Duskendale that his eldest son Aemon was more worthy of the white robe than any knight in the king's territory, and then asked him to join the Kingsguard in front of the king.
Well... Barristan only used two slashes to show everyone that the eldest son of Duskendale was not suitable for wearing white robes.
"Queen Mother Your Majesty." Realizing that he had offended Queen Mother, Rivere spoke again, his voice lower than before, and his posture more humble than before. "What I just said was indeed rude."
"Herb is just a fledgling young man, and has never been on the battlefield. You know, there is no intention to offend Her Royal Highness the Princess and Dorne Prince."
He paused and bowed slightly. "If my words made you unhappy, I would like to apologize to you for that."
This is the instinct of an old nobleman who has been immersed in the court for decades.
If you find that the wind direction is wrong, immediately lower the sails.
But today, the trend has not changed.
Cersei just looked at him.
There was no looseness in those green eyes, full of coldness and stubbornness.
"Apologise?" She repeated the word with a somewhat sarcastic tone, "Earl Lych, do you think what I need is your apology?"
Seeing the other party's tough attitude, Riverey just asked in a low voice, "Then what do you need, Queen Mother Your Majesty?"
Cersei looked at him and smiled.
That smile was beautiful, her green eyes were curved into crescents, her red lips were slightly raised, and her blond hair was like melted gold in the sun.
"I need you to prove what you're saying."
Her voice was very soft, as if she was discussing what kind of snacks should go with afternoon tea. "You said your son deserves Myrcella.
Then let him prove it."
"Go to Dorne... to duel Tristan Martell, and win back my daughter with your sword!"
"If he can do it, I agree to let Myrcella marry this...Herb·Lake!"
Her voice was loud, and as soon as she said this, everyone looked here.
Hearing this, Rivere was silent for three seconds.
In these three seconds, his brain was running at the fastest speed in his life.
He can't accept it.
Absolutely unacceptable.
He knew very well how much his son weighed.
Letting Herb go to Dorne to challenge Tristan Prince is basically going to die.
Not to mention that Tristan Martell was probably taught by Oberyn since he was a child, and Herb...Herb only started practicing sword seriously three months ago. Last month, he heard his son asking the instructor, "Should I use Gauntlet or the blade of the sword when blocking?"
Not to mention that Dorne is a long way away, so it is normal for something to happen on the way.
Moreover, even if Herb really beat Prince in Dorne, on someone else's territory...
But he couldn't refuse in public.
Rejecting Queen Mother's "proposal" is tantamount to a public slap in the face of the royal family and the Lannister family.
The fleet from Duskendale still has to pass through Blackwater Bay, and the Lake family's caravan still has to do business in King's Landing.
He needs a step up.
A step that would not be disgraceful and would not cost my son his life.
Perhaps thanks to the blessings of the Seven Gods, this step came quickly.
"Who's talking about my lovely niece?"
Just as Riveri was racking his brains to think of words to refuse, a voice came from behind the crowd.
The tone was obviously joking, and there was also a hint of drunkenness.
Everyone's eyes turned to the source of the sound.
The crowd automatically split to both sides.
I saw Tyrion Lannister standing at the entrance of the VIP passage, holding a glass of wine in his hand.
He was wearing the famous red coat with gold patterns, which was his regular uniform when he was Chancellor of the Exchequer. It was jokingly called "Tyrion's court uniform" by the tailors in King's Landing.
It's well-tailored and made of high-quality fabrics, but when worn on his short body, he always has a funny feeling like a child sneaking into adults' clothes.
Standing next to him was a thin man, wearing gorgeous brown leather armor. The cloak behind him was inlaid with gold thread and gems. It was very valuable at first glance. He wore Longsword around his waist, and had a frivolous expression on his face that was ready to laugh at any time.
The moment she saw Tyrion, Cersei's face froze.
She stared at Tyrion like a ghost crawling out of the grave, her eyes full of disgust.
"Why are you here?"
Cersei's voice was cold, even colder than before, as if she wanted to bite the guy in front of her, who was less than half a man tall, into pieces alive and swallow her into her stomach.
Tyrion just tilted his head, with a harmless smile on his face.
"Oh, my dear sister, I am so touched to see you still care so much about my whereabouts!"
He took a sip of wine and said in a frivolous tone, "But don't worry, I went to Gold Cloaks Headquarters to report in early this morning."
"Humphrey Ser personally signed my record, proving that Lord Tyrion Lannister was free to move around King's Landing today and was not suspected of escaping."
As he spoke, he even took out a roll of parchment from his arms, unfolded it, and showed it generously to the curious nobles around him, as if he was a little proud.
"So." After everyone was satisfied, Tyrion put away the parchment and stuffed it back into his arms. "I am now a legal and compliant free man. I can go wherever I want and see whoever I want."
He paused and smiled brighter, "Besides, I like to join in the fun."
Hearing this, Cersei stared at him fiercely.
This monster who killed his mother, killed Joffrey, and sent his daughter to Dorne as a hostage.
The prophecy of the witch girl from my childhood kept coming back to my mind.
"You will marry the king, and one day you will be the mother of all the kings, until another woman comes, younger and more beautiful than you, who overthrows you and takes away everything you hold dear."
"Your three children will wear gold as their crowns and gold as their shrouds. One day, when you are drowned in tears, your brother will strangle your pale neck and take away your life."
Yes, the prophecy said that she would die at the hands of her brother.
And Cersei knew that the damn devil was Tyrion in front of her, and he had already done it, killed his first son, and got away with it!
The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. Cersei curled her fingers into her palms and dug her nails into her flesh.
The pain allowed her to maintain a superficial calm.
"You are still a suspect for the murder of Joffrey. Your case has not been concluded yet. You are not qualified to stand here and be on an equal footing with the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms!"
As she spoke, Cersei put on a sarcastic smile and pointed at the heads crowded behind her, one after another.
"You should go to the civilian area, it's more suitable for you!"
As soon as these words came out, there were whispers all around.
The nobles all understood. Queen Mother's words were equivalent to expelling his own brother from the noble circle in front of everyone.
Of course Tyrion understood.
But he was not as angry as before, nor did he refute, nor did he even feel the embarrassment of being publicly humiliated.
After going through that damn trial, he figured out a lot of things. Maybe he should never have been a Lannister.
But as far as Myrcella is concerned, although he has always been keen on teasing Cersei for fun, Tyrion can swear to the Seven Gods that he really did not do this on purpose.
It was the most intense period of the War of the Five Kings. The North were burning, killing and looting in the Riverlands, and Stannis's fleet was blocked at the mouth of Blackwater Bay.
In order to stabilize the situation, as acting Prime Minister, he needs a bargaining chip to stabilize Dorne.
Speaking of which, Tyrion also likes that cute and well-behaved niece because she is kind and innocent, not like Cersei at all.
He was reluctant to part with her at the time, but then he thought about it. If Myersa stayed in King's Landing and the city was attacked by Stannis, she would most likely become a hostage, and she would even end up with the same fate as the original Princess Y Lia·Martell.
And go to Dorne and marry Martell Prince. No matter what the ending is, at least Myrcella will live.
Facts have proved that he was right.
Later, letters from Myrcella often came from Dorne. She said that she was living well in Dorne.
She read, rode horses, and learned to speak Dornish.
Tristan Prince treated her like a jewel, and Prince Daolang wrote to the Imperial Council praising her for her intelligence.
"You're right, sister."
After a moment of silence, Tyrion grinned. "I was indeed born to be with the commoners. No, maybe as Tyrion I am more humble than them."
"But please forgive me for letting me out."
"Because I came in with Bronn Ser as his attendant today, right?"
As he spoke, Tyrion poked the calf of the lean knight next to him with his elbow.
He wanted to stab him in the waist, but...
But obviously, Bronn was also a little blinded by his words, and he raised his eyebrows and said, "My attendant?"
"Yes." Tyrion nodded solemnly. "You see, I am short, suitable for holding your helmet, handing you a spear,
Clean the stables, and I don't want any wages, I just need to take care of the food."
As he spoke, he paused, and his sarcastic tone became more intense. "Of course, if you are willing to share half of my glass of wine, I will be more grateful."
Hearing this, Bronn was silent for three seconds.
Then he laughed.
There was an invisible tacit understanding in that smile.
"Deal." He raised the glass high and said loudly, "But the great Bronn Ser only allows you to drink half a cup of inferior Ale every day, squire Tyrion!"
"You are really stingy, my lord." Tyrion also laughed, then raised his glass and clinked it with Bronn.
Ding.
The crisp metallic sound was particularly harsh in the solid air.
Cersei's expression completely changed.
It was obvious that she was teased in public but was unable to retaliate, which made her feel extremely humiliated.
"Bronn." She turned to point her finger at the lean knight, her voice cold.
Hearing this, Bronn turned his head and looked at her.
"Queen Mother Your Majesty." He nodded slightly as a salute. His gesture was so lazy that it was almost rude.
Seeing this, Cersei became even more angry and pointed at his nose and asked, "Do you remember who helped you marry Lollys Stokeworth?"
"Remember." Bronn's expression did not change at all.
"It's you."
Cersei took a step forward and became more aggressive. "Then you should remember that it was me who made you transform from a hedge knight to a true noble."
"It was I who allowed you to become the son-in-law of Stoke Worth, and it was I who saved you from having to live a life of licking blood from the edge of a knife.""
O
As she spoke, Cersei pointed at Tyrion and angrily yelled, "And you, you openly stand in front of me with the murderer of my son!!"
Facing Cersei's accusation, Bronn just listened quietly, and when she finished speaking, he spoke slowly.
"Queen Mother Your Majesty." He said, "You remembered one thing wrong."
"You asked me not to be Lord Tyrion's deputy knight, so I did."
He paused and spread his hands. "That's a business. You pay and I'll do the work... or I won't do the work. We'll pay both sides."
His tone was very calm, as calm as if he was stating an insignificant past event.
"As for Lollys...
Speaking of his wife, Bronn raised the corner of his mouth with a mocking arc. "She is a good woman. She obeys my words and never complains. She doesn't even dislike the smell of blood on my body."
"But she is a fool, Queen Mother Your Majesty. If you give her a rag doll, she can hold it and play with it all day. I asked her how much three plus two equals, and she counted it on her fingers for a long time, and then smiled stupidly at me."
Speaking of this, his voice suddenly turned cold. "And she is the second daughter. She also has sister Falyse and brother-in-law Balman."
"The two of them are in good health and go hunting every autumn. It is said that Ser Balman even hunted a wild boar last year."
"How many years do you think I have to wait for the inheritance of Stoke Worth?"
Hearing this, Cersei did not answer.
She just stared at Bronn, her eyes burning with suppressed anger.
However, Bronn did not stop and continued, his tone as frivolous as a gamble. "Thirty years? Forty years?"
"Maybe they are lucky enough to live to be a hundred years old, and I will be eighty or ninety by then. Do you want me to inherit a castle with a cane?"
After saying that, Bronn picked up the wine glass again and took a sip.
"So, Queen Mother Your Majesty, the price you paid is not too much."
"From now on, I don't owe you anything."
The voice fell.
The air solidified again.
Cersei's chest heaved violently.
She opened her mouth, planning to say something to criticize Bronn again for his betrayal.
However, at this moment, a snarky voice came from behind Bronn: "Are you looking forward to my death, Ser Bronn of the Blackwater?"