The eastern coast of the Westeros Continent.
The Kingswood, stretching for a thousand miles, faced King's Landing across the river.
The Kingswood was sparsely populated and had been the private hunting grounds of the King of Westeros since the Targaryen Dynasty.
Today, it welcomed two important new guests:
The young Crown Prince, Joffrey Baratheon, who inherited his mother's beauty, the "Light of the West."
And the clever dwarf, "The Imp" Tyrion Lannister.
Though ostensibly for hunting, their intentions clearly lay elsewhere.
After allowing the accompanying hunting party and guards to go about their business, the two went off alone together, gradually disappearing into the deep woods.
...
The Kingswood was a paradise for trees.
The deeper they went, the thicker and more intertwined the exposed tree roots on the ground became.
"The Imp" navigated around them with his short legs, walking slower and slower, until he finally had to stop in frustration.
"Have mercy, dear Prince. The path in the Kingswood is not easy to traverse, especially for your uncle here."
Tyrion's characteristic mocking tone rang out.
Joffrey turned and stood still, smoothing a slightly messy golden curl by his ear.
Under the dense tree canopy, the two stood facing each other.
Tyrion couldn't help but wonder if he was dreaming.
The esteemed Prince Joffrey actually invited "The Imp" for a private talk.
The strangest thing was that at this moment, Joffrey didn't seem to be looking at his disgraceful dwarf uncle, but rather at a person, a normal, ordinary person.
Tyrion would trade anything for people to look at him that way.
"Just say whatever secrets you have here. Some ordinary corner of the Kingswood is the perfect place for a murder, absolutely private."
Was this another prank?
His one black and one blue eye fixed intently on Joffrey's pale face.
Joffrey lowered his gaze, looking at his dwarf uncle, who was more than a head shorter than him, and sighed softly.
Tyrion, Tyrion.
Nice to meet you. From now on, I am Joffrey.
He had inexplicably transmigrated to this world of A Song of Ice and Fire / Game of Thrones.
He was excited, yet also a little apprehensive.
According to the plot, in just two years, "he" would be poisoned to death.
To avoid such a tragic end, he had to act immediately and unite all possible forces.
"We've always been good friends, haven't we, Uncle Tyrion?"
Tyrion almost burst into laughter.
"Ha! You win, dear Joffrey, you win! That's absolutely the most humorous joke I've ever heard!"
Here and now, Joffrey no longer needed to pretend to be foolish.
"Look here, how suitable this is for friends to have a heart-to-heart talk. There are no ubiquitous spies from the city, no secret passages connecting the Red Keep from top to bottom, and no Weirwood trees of the Old Gods."
Red Keep secret passages? Tyrion keenly caught the key information.
Could this be the eunuch's secret weapon?
How could he know?
Tyrion was very surprised.
How did Joffrey suddenly seem like a true heir to the kingdom? It was a miracle.
Were the gods in the sky blind?
"So, my dear friend, what exactly do you want to talk about?"
Tyrion grew more and more curious.
Joffrey was silent for a few breaths, a hint of just the right amount of confusion in his expression.
Then he shook his head and sighed.
"It feels like a dream. Even now, I don't want to believe those things will actually happen."
"I saw many scenes I had never seen before. Betrayal, war, weddings, death, there were familiar people, and also unfamiliar faces."
"Of course, there was also you, Uncle Tyrion."
He stared into Tyrion's eyes, his face full of solemn seriousness.
"Perhaps it was a gift from the gods, or some other reason. The fact is - I saw the future."
...
A breeze blew at just the right moment, and the rustling leaves seemed to laugh for Tyrion.
Then did you see who your real father is?
Sorry, that was too cruel.
"So that's how it is. I'm very willing to believe you, but friends should be honest, right?"
It was a thinly veiled mockery, but Joffrey didn't care.
He smiled back, "My friend, if I were you, I wouldn't jump to conclusions so quickly."
Joffrey recalled the breathtaking plots and scenes from the show, his expression becoming increasingly lost in thought.
"I truly wish it were just a fleeting dream."
"The future is too terrifying. Truth is always cruel, power is dangerous and alluring, and there are countless secrets, conspiracies, and killings."
"But I also grew because of it."
Tyrion remained silent, seemingly intending to listen to the end.
Joffrey decided to reveal some information that wasn't of much practical use. "I saw it. Hand of the King Jon Arryn is about to die, and Father will go north to Winterfell to invite Lord Eddard to succeed him."
Tyrion's expression shifted slightly. "Hmm. A good story, just don't let Lord Jon hear it."
"I also saw that Master of Whisperers Varys is plotting to restore the Targaryen Dynasty, or the Blackfyre. Master of Coin Petyr Baelish covets the Iron Throne and is scheming to incite war."
"They are indeed not good people, but such accusations are too much."
"A Red Comet will appear in a few months, its light bright enough to rival the sun and moon."
"I look forward to seeing it."
"The Long Night is coming."
"The end of the world, huh? I'd really like to witness it."
As expected, Tyrion showed no sign of believing him, stubborn as a rock from Casterly Rock.
Despite some reluctance, Joffrey knew he had to play his trump card.
"Tysha."
The smile on Tyrion's face instantly froze.
He never expected to hear that name from Joffrey's lips.
The layers of defense in his heart immediately collapsed.
Those painful memories he hadn't dared to think about since all came rushing out, like a sharp sword, plunging fiercely into his mind.
Tysha, ha, Tysha.
My first woman, my true love, my bride, was a whore bought by Jaime.
A whore, a whore full of lies.
At Duke Tywin's command, the Lannister soldiers lined up, one, ten, a hundred, and Tyrion was last.
From that moment on, after being forced to witness and participate in his wife's "work."
Tyrion no longer hoped for a woman's love.
Joffrey lowered his voice, trying his best not to provoke the "Imp" at this moment.
"Tysha, what a good person she was. Frankly, I truly feel for you both. Such a tragedy, it's hard to imagine. Pitiful, regrettable, sorrowful."
"Stop talking."
"One hundred Silver Stags, one Gold Dragon."
The price for a common soldier was one Silver Stag, higher than the market rate. The Lannisters were naturally different; Duke Tywin threw a whole Gold Dragon at Tysha for Tyrion.
"Shut up." Tyrion's expression became increasingly twisted.
Joffrey couldn't help but be affected either.
To be fair, he didn't want to tear open Tyrion's wound. But the opportunity across the Narrow Sea was fleeting, and he had to reach a cooperation with Tyrion as soon as possible.
Since Tyrion was reluctant to let down his guard, he had no choice but to disturb the poor Tysha.
Seizing the moment, Joffrey added, "While the past cannot be changed. But as a simple farmer's daughter, being able to make you kill your father for her years later, I believe she would also feel some comfort."
Tyrion was already on the verge of being completely drowned by painful memories. But at this moment, he seemed to see a glimmer of hope and salvation.
"Farmer's daughter?! Tysha, she's not... a whore?"
Filial piety, how comforting.
"Uncle Jaime admitted it himself. She was pure."
Jaime? Jaime. Tyrion was stunned for a few seconds, his eyes darkening again.
From those eyes, Joffrey felt pain, doubt, relief, hatred, and many other unspeakable things.
What would Tyrion do? Hate Jaime? Kill his father again? Endure and seek revenge?
Joffrey couldn't be sure, but he was prepared.
"I'm sorry, but it's true. Go ask Uncle Jaime, ask him seriously."
Joffrey was very sincere.
"I don't want to, and I won't hurt you."
"We can be true friends and help each other."
He really thought so.
Knowing the truth about Tysha, it was impossible for Tyrion to reintegrate into the Lannister family.
Such a Tyrion would surely become his true right-hand man.
The sound of the wind blew for a long time...
Tyrion didn't explode like he did in the story.
He just asked, "How is Tysha? Where is she now?"
His voice was weary and dry. His face was full of hope.
But Joffrey was helpless.
"I only saw your conversation. Grandfather doesn't know either, but he didn't kill her, he just drove her away."
"Where can a prostitute go?" This question also plagued countless book fans and drama fans.
Perhaps in Braavos, perhaps in King's Landing, perhaps living in some corner, perhaps...
Joffrey could only try his best to comfort him and give him a promise.
"Pull yourself together, Tyrion."
"When I become king, I can mobilize the power of the entire kingdom to help you. Tysha must still be alive, and we will definitely find her!"
"There is still hope!"
As long as he didn't completely break down, time and hope could heal almost all wounds.
Tyrion tried to calm his expression. In front of Joffrey, he really didn't want to expose his weakness.
He buried all the turmoil in his heart.
That's right, there is still hope.
I can't give up! Tysha, Tysha is still waiting for me.
I will become a better person.
Gradually, the "special treatment" he had received as a dwarf for more than twenty years, those looks, whispers, and actions, kept appearing in his mind.
Tyrion was determined not to let the world have its way.
So what if I was born a dwarf, deformed and ugly?! Even if I am cursed and abandoned by the gods, I will never admit defeat!
You all watch.
I will live well, and I will personally watch my father's body buried.
You all watch.
I will make the sacred and solemn Sevenfold Marriage Vows with Tysha in the Great Sept of Baelor, witnessed by the High Septon!
I will be in the spotlight.
Inherit Casterly Rock!!
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