The procession advanced along the flower-filled Roseroad and unexpectedly encountered another extrely prominent convoy. Flying high on their banners was a golden lion roaring on a crimson field—the massive retinue of House Lannister.
At the head sat Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, Shield of Lannisport, and Warden of the West. He sat straight on his horse, his expression as cold and stern as rock.
Beside him rode his most trusted sibling and right-hand man, Kevan Lannister.
His children were also all present: Lady Cersei Lannister, beautiful but sharp-eyed; Ser Jai Lannister, golden hair shining and full of heroic spirit; and young Tyrion Lannister, observing everything with eyes that were overly intelligent for his age.
This encounter caused the faces of Oberyn Martell and Arianne Martell to darken almost instantly, poorly concealed aversion flashing in their eyes.
This hostility was rooted in the past: back in 273 AC, when they were still youths, they had visited Casterly Rock with their mother, the ruling Princess of Dorne. At that ti, their mother hoped to arrange betrothals between Oberyn, Elia, and Tywin's twin children (Cersei and Jai). However, the timing was extrely unfortunate; it was just after Tywin's beloved wife, Joanna Lannister, had passed away, and all of Casterly Rock was imrsed in grief.
Lord Tywin not only rudely rejected the marriage proposal but also suggested that the infant Tyrion be betrothed to Elia instead of Jai—a proposal Oberyn's mother viewed as a huge insult to House Martell, causing them to part on bad terms.
Since then, Tywin Lannister had been pushing hard for a marriage between his daughter Cersei and Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, attempting to bring his family into the core of power.
Unexpectedly, Aerys II, the "Mad King," out of suspicion toward Tywin, flatly refused and instead had Prince Rhaegar marry Elia Martell.
This decision undoubtedly deepened Tywin's grudge and dissatisfaction with Dorne.
Now, two families bearing old grievances reunited on the Roseroad, invisible sparks crackling in the air.
Despite the unpleasant history, there were no other irreconcilable direct conflicts between House Lannister and Dorne.
Superficial etiquette had to be maintained thoroughly.
As representatives of Dorne, Oberyn Martell and Arianne Martell, along with Euron Greyjoy representing the Iron Islands, rode forward proactively to greet and bow to Lord Tywin. Their deanor was impeccable, as if the past discord had never happened.
Cersei Lannister remained incredibly beautiful, like a ticulously carved piece of cold jewelry. However, deep within her erald eyes, a difficult-to-dissipate anger was constantly suppressed.
Shortly before departing for Harrenhal, she learned news that made her burn with rage: House Lannister was about to form a marriage alliance with House Tully. Her perfect twin brother, Jai, was arranged by their father to marry the second daughter of Hoster Tully, Lord of the Riverlands—Lysa Tully.
She had fiercely objected to her father. The result was predictable: she received only Tywin's cold rejection and harsh mockery: "When did Jai's marriage beco yours to decide? What right do you have to object?!" "Useless brain!"
Unlike his sister's gloom, Jai Lannister appeared very happy to see Euron. The golden-haired young knight's eyes shone with excitent when talking about the upcoming Tourney at Harrenhal, eager to try his skills.
Tyrion Lannister squeezed forward impatiently. Not only was he happy about the reunion, but he also eagerly ntioned the book Euron had given him—The Miracles—and asked with glowing eyes when the next sea adventure would begin. He couldn't wait to see the vast world across the Narrow Sea again.
The two groups with the sa destination—one representing the blazing sun and spears of Dorne, the other symbolizing the lions and gold mines of the Westerlands—naturally rged and traveled together, winding along the Roseroad toward Harrenhal.
During the noon feast that day, exquisite food and fine wine were laid out on long tables under a temporary luxury tent.
At the table, Lord Tywin Lannister sat at the head, his posture as cold and majestic as ever. Unexpectedly, the Warden of the West didn't exchange many pleasantries. Instead, he steered the conversation directly to the battle that had spread throughout the Seven Kingdoms.
His gaze was sharp as a hawk, landing precisely on Euron Greyjoy at the table. His voice was steady. "Greyjoy, I am quite interested in that 'encounter' you commanded near the waters of the Arbor not long ago." He deliberately chose relatively neutral words, but every word carried heavy weight. "I wonder if you are willing to share so details? For example, how did you end the battle so... efficiently, given that your forces might not have had the advantage?"
The atmosphere at the table seed to condense slightly. Everyone understood this was no ordinary casual curiosity. What Lord Tywin was truly evaluating was the military talent, tactical style, and the mariti threat—or potential—represented by the young Ironborn before him.
Facing Lord Tywin's inquiry, Euron remained composed, responding concisely and logically. "First, we held the absolute moral high ground in this battle. The Arbor plundered our rchant ships first, insulting the honor of Greyjoy; we were forced to counterattack." His tone was calm but carried undeniable weight. "Before the battle, we gave them ample ti to admit their mistake and return the property, but at the sa ti, we made full preparations in case they insisted on fighting."
He paused briefly, continuing to expound on his tactical core. "Victory in a naval battle does not equate to the end of the entire campaign. To truly destroy the Arbor's will to resist, a fatal blow had to be dealt from within. Therefore, before the fleets engaged head-on, I personally led an elite squad to infiltrate quietly from the rear, entering their core castle ahead of ti."
Euron didn't want to dwell on this matter. He pivoted, skillfully guiding the topic toward Tywin, his words carrying just the right amount of respect. "In fact, Lord Tywin, you have always been a model I study in military strategy. Many ideas for this operation drew inspiration from your classic campaigns of the past."
A extrely subtle ripple seed to pass over Lord Tywin's stern face. He keenly caught Euron's hint and slowly added, "Including that song which is now widely circulated—'The Flas of the Arbor'?"
Hearing this, Euron didn't hide anything. Instead, he laughed openly, his smile frank and unrestrained. "You jest, My Lord. An impromptu work, rely to boost morale. Naturally, it cannot compare to your classic 'The Rains of Castare'."
Cersei Lannister suddenly clapped her hands lightly a few tis. The crisp sound was particularly abrupt at the sowhat dull table.
She raised her beautiful face, which carried a trace of deliberate provocation. Her voice was like smooth silk. "I always feel this luncheon lacks so entertainnt. Where are our musicians?" Her gaze swept over everyone, finally landing on her father's face. The corner of her lips curled into a shallow smile. "Co, play and sing a song for our honored guests—'The Rains of Castare'."
Lord Tywin's ice-sharp gaze imdiately turned to his arrogant, beautiful daughter. His rock-like expression didn't change in the slightest, but deep in those cold green eyes, a profound exhaustion and helplessness flashed almost imperceptibly, as if sighing heavily in his heart for this untily provocation filled with taphors.
That song... is not ant to be played during a al...
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