February 1st, the afternoon sun was dazzling.
Queen Cersei's large retinue finally appeared outside the Lion Gate of King's Landing.
The Gold Cloaks guarding the gate diligently dispersed the dense crowd at the entrance, clearing a path for the Queen's party.
The Queen's massive Wheeled Palace moved slowly in the middle of the procession.
Ser Jaime rode ahead, leading the way.
He wore a set of intricately carved Porcelain White Scale Armor and the white long cloak unique to the Kingsguard, which made the Gilded Longsword at his waist look even more striking.
"The Kingslayer" held his head high and chest out, as if returning from a victory, imprinting the sharp, proud smile on his face onto the hearts of countless passersby.
Behind the Kingslayer was a carriage tightly covered with black cloth, and Joffrey followed closely behind the carriage.
Before entering the Lion Gate, the strong smell of people and animals filled his nostrils, making Joffrey, who had become accustomed to the fresh air of the wilderness, experience the "flavor" of King's Landing again.
He could only endure, trying to focus his attention on the sights along the way.
As soon as they passed through the Lion Gate, a large area of dense, low-rise houses came into view, with many children and teenagers curiously peering out of the windows.
Further into the city, there were more and more inns, taverns, warehouses, shops, and brothels. These places were not very interested in the Queen's beauty; only Gold Dragons and Silver Stags could open these doors.
The streets were extremely crowded, and from the height of a horse's back, he could only see countless heads and a dazzling array of clothes and faces.
Commoners, knights, merchants, craftsmen, beggars, mercenaries, travelers, prostitutes, gang members...
Midway through the journey, the view suddenly widened. The huge statue of Baelor I, with a look of compassion, occupied the center of his vision. He raised his head and finally saw the full view of the sacred and dazzling Great Sept of Baelor.
The center of the faith of The Seven, guarded by seven Crystal towers, a magnificent Sept built of white marble.
Religion, he thought, his mind in turmoil.
Are The Seven real beings, or illusory idols?
Is the power of R'hllor, the Lord of Light, some kind of magic, or another mysterious force?
The procession then reached the large square in the city center, and then went straight all the way, returning to the Red Keep via Aegon's High Hill and entering that bronze gate.
With the Queen's return to the palace, the servants naturally had to welcome and serve her early, making the scene quite lively.
He came back to his senses.
He had to go back to being a willful Prince.
The Crown Prince dismounted, waiting expectantly for the soldiers to lift the black cloth from the carriage in front.
Four soldiers pulled together, and the living creature under the black cloth saw the sunlight again.
A crowd of servants burst into an uproar.
"Father above, what kind of miracle is this!"
"Monster! Monster!!"
Joffrey put his hands on his hips and laughed heartily with pride.
"Scared, aren't you? This is my mount, mine!"
The servants quickly gathered around to flatter the Crown Prince.
Only when the carriage carrying the giant lion was transported to the stables did Joffrey leave his "mount" with satisfaction, preparing to return to his chambers.
Somewhat surprised yet somewhat understanding, he met Littlefinger halfway.
"Your Highness,"
Littlefinger still acted like the most loyal subject.
"First, I must congratulate you on acquiring such a magnificent mount, truly a gift from The Gods. But I have another piece of good news."
He looked up and glanced at the Crown Prince, "Do you remember the Dragon Eggs from your Naming Day? They've arrived."
Joffrey's face lit up with joy, "Then why aren't you taking me to see them quickly?"
Littlefinger bowed and accepted the order.
"I also have a small question to ask Your Highness. Your attendant, Elin, was unfortunately cursed by the storm and did not return with the ship, but remained alone in Pentos. What do you think?"
Joffrey frowned slightly, "He's a disgrace to me! Ignore him, let him die there!"
"Where are my Dragon Eggs?"
"Your Highness, you don't need to worry, they have already been delivered to your chambers."
Joffrey gave Littlefinger a look of approval.
On the steps of Maegor's Holdfast, Tyrion was sitting in front of Joffrey's chambers, engrossed in reading an ancient book.
Noticing the figure in front of him, Tyrion gently closed the ancient book.
"Good nephew, you've returned too slowly, I couldn't wait. Littlefinger is too much, he wouldn't even let me have a look at what the Dragon Eggs look like first."
Joffrey understood what he meant.
"Hmph, he did well. I am their master, of course they can't be shown to just anyone."
The two entered Joffrey's chambers together.
A simple, heavy cedar wood chest sat on the most prominent stone table in the center of the hall.
My dragon eggs!
Joffrey unlatched the lock and slowly lifted the lid. Tyrion stood on tiptoe, trying to see every detail.
Lying quietly on the finest velvet and brocade from the Free Cities were the three large eggs they had been longing for.
The surface of the dragon eggs was covered with small scales, giving off a metallic sheen in the sunlight.
One was dark green, covered in various bronze spots;
One was pale milky white with golden stripes;
The last one was black, like a midnight ocean, yet with vibrant dark red waves and swirls.
The patterns were as rich as enamel, as smooth as porcelain, and as transparent as glass.
"So beautiful."
Tyrion exclaimed, utterly captivated.
He thought of the dragon bones beneath the Red Keep. Black as obsidian, smooth and bright, they seemed to shimmer in the torchlight.
It turned out that dragon eggs were even more breathtakingly beautiful.
"Joffrey, black, green, white, which one do you dislike the most?" That one will be mine.
Of course, Joffrey wanted the green one the least.
"Hmm, they all look pretty good. More than enough for decoration. You want one, Uncle?"
He held out his hand to Tyrion, "Give me something in exchange."
Tyrion shook his head.
"Sigh, what a stingy fellow."
He glanced at Hannah standing beside Joffrey, then pulled a scroll of parchment from his embrace.
"I've thought of a rather interesting new game. If Your Highness is satisfied, please don't forget to bestow a reward."
Joffrey unrolled the parchment.
Death of the Hand:
Insufficient investigation time, suspected involvement of Littlefinger, Varys, and Pycelle.
Intelligence:
475 Secret Personnel have been recruited. Identified 194 of Varys's subordinates, 289 of Littlefinger's subordinates, and over 60,000 pieces of King's Landing personnel information.
Hidden Agents:
Dick, Stannis's private kitchen helper; Morrie, a free rider under Renly; 26 King's Landing City Watch soldiers are on standby for action.
"Can this game guarantee I win?"
Tyrion spread his hands, "Is there any game with a hundred percent chance of winning? I can only say that Your Highness has a greater probability of winning."
Joffrey couldn't help but frown.
The chance of a successful assassination isn't high? Looks like I need to prepare more.
"Hannah," Joffrey also handed Tyrion a note with instructions, "Help my uncle take this verdigris dragon egg back so he doesn't get tired halfway."
Hannah picked up the face-sized dragon egg with both hands and smiled at Tyrion, nodding.
"Lord Tyrion, please guide me more in the future."
"Of course, of course."
Tyrion felt that things were not simple.
As Tyrion reached the doorway, Joffrey suddenly slapped his head as if remembering something.
"Oh, right, let's have a good time in the city tomorrow."
"After all, we're going to The North the day after tomorrow. That place is terribly cold, poor and broken, probably not very interesting."
Tyrion smoothly turned and bowed, then disappeared around the corner of the doorway.
Joffrey returned to his dragon eggs.
There were no others present now.
He gently stroked the two treasures he had just acquired, his eyes filled with excitement and anticipation.
The future black dragon Drogon, the white dragon Viserion, and the green dragon Rhaegal he had just given away, he could see their common point—three slightly glowing patterns.
One represented a Fire Rune, and the other two unknown ones were the great gains close at hand.
Even if I can't hatch the dragon eggs, as long as I have these runes, sooner or later I can create my own dragon!
On the other side, Tyrion returned to his small dwelling.
After meticulously checking the layout of the room, he read the information Joffrey had given him.
Everything is to be handled by Hannah?!
He immediately understood Hannah's greeting just now.
Heh, the dwarf does the work, and the woman enjoys it. This is the fate I can't escape.
He read further down, his expression growing more serious, then he set the parchment ablaze, watching it turn to ash as he stared silently at the candlelight.
The first one.
Did he choose Stannis...?
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