Tyrion, both amused and exasperated, said, "That time, she was only on her way to Sunspear to meet your father. Running into Darkstar was purely accidental."
"Meeting my father? Why didn't she go?" Arianne asked anxiously.
"She did go to Sunspear. She walked around beneath the Tower of the Sun, but your father was at the Water Gardens," Tyrion replied, uncertain.
"Ah, judging by the time she reached Oldtown, my father really was at the Water Gardens." Arianne clenched her wrist in regret, sighing deeply.
"Can I bring Myrcella back?" Tyrion suddenly asked.
Seeing the seriousness in his expression, Arianne grew curious and asked, puzzled, "You still dare return to King's Landing?"
"No. I'll take her to Slaver's Bay and hand her over to the Dragon Queen as a hostage!"
"She is your niece! Seven hells, do you truly hate your sister that much?" Arianne said in disbelief.
"You don't understand. I'm saving her. For the Lannisters as they are now, the only truly safe place in the world is at Daenerys's side well, aside from being with me."
"What did you and Princess Arianne do?"
The pair of lovers finished their business, then spent over an hour tangled together in the sky upon the dragon. Only when the western horizon bloomed into golden-red dusk did they fly across the shimmering sea and descend into a wildling settlement, its houses arranged in a square formation.
Princess Arianne walked away with a face full of satisfaction, but Barristan immediately called the dwarf over.
"Hey, we're a match of beauty and wit. She was like dry tinder, I like blazing fire. What else could we do? And what does it matter to you?" Tyrion replied lazily.
"Tyrion, I must remind you. Now that you serve Her Majesty, the least you owe her is loyalty!" The White Knight spoke sternly.
"I swear, I've never betrayed the Queen!" Tyrion raised his hand.
"She did ask me about the Queen's character and behavior, and yes, I answered her. But that is the most basic rule of noble interaction. Unless Her Majesty chooses to make Dorne an enemy, mutual understanding and communication are necessary.
"You may not believe it, but just earlier I even dispelled a misunderstanding Princess Arianne had about the Queen.
"When I return to Slaver's Bay, I'll report to Her Majesty about the Dornish ways and their thinking.
"Yes, I am the bridge of communication between the Queen and Dorne. This is official business!"
Barristan opened his mouth but found no words to refute the dwarf's twisted reasoning. In the end, he muttered, "You should leave quickly. The skinchanger has already prepared the supplies. You can depart at once."
"No. Flying thousands of miles in one trip isn't easy. I must go back to Westeros first," Tyrion shook his head.
"Where are you going?" the White Knight asked, frowning.
"As luck would have it, today happens to be my dear sister's engagement to Euron. I must attend in King's Landing and deliver a gift to the happy couple." Tyrion grinned.
"Are you mad?" Ser Barristan's expression looked as though he had seen a ghost in broad daylight.
Tyrion shrugged and smiled meaningfully. "Ser, think about it. If I meant to betray the Queen, why would I tell you beforehand? And do you truly believe my dear sister would welcome me back?"
"What is it you intend to do?" Barristan asked coldly.
"Whatever I do, I'll explain it all in full detail to Her Majesty afterward."
Without even staying for dinner, Tyrion departed beneath the golden-red glow of the evening sky.
He did not travel alone. A strong skinchanger went with him.
And the little lion was not wrong. Today was indeed Cersei and Euron's wedding day.
According to Regent Kevan's plan, today his niece was to be betrothed to Euron. Tomorrow, the Ironborn would withdraw from Moat Cailin. The day after, his troublesome niece and her new husband would be out of his sight.
The couple would sail westward along the Mander to Highgarden, completing the final negotiations with House Tyrell: the Ironborn would return the Shield Islands in exchange for a ransom from Highgarden.
The Seven Kingdoms would once again return to peace and unity.
Then Kevan could focus all his attention on dealing with the "High Sparrow" and "Saint Daenerys."
Though those matters were still distant, the thought that the Lannisters and the Iron Throne would finally be rid of that foul, clinging Cersei was enough to bring a long-lost smile to Kevan's face during the feast.
In good spirits, he drank a few extra cups. By the time Ser Boros Blount shook him awake, the Regent was still groggy.
"Your Grace, forgive me for disturbing your rest, but a boy outside Maegor's Holdfast requests an audience. He says Grand Maester Pycelle has received urgent news and begs to meet with you immediately."
"What time is it now?" Kevan sat up, rubbing his face.
"Your Grace, it is three in the morning. Dawn is near," Ser Boros replied.
"So late, and he could not wait for daylight? What matter could be so urgent?"
Though Kevan grumbled, his mind quickly cleared. With the help of two Lannister guards in golden armor, he began dressing.
Black wings bring black tidings.
It had to be something serious for Pycelle to be in such a hurry.
"I asked, but the boy knew nothing. If you prefer, Your Grace, you could remain in your chamber, and I'll bring the Grand Maester here," Ser Boros suggested.
"No, I'll go myself. It's freezing cold outside, snow falling, and the old man is eighty-five. After the humiliation of his last public shaming, best not trouble him further."
Unlike Cersei and Tyrion, who treated Pycelle with cruelty and disdain, Kevan held genuine respect and reliance for the old Maester.
He understood well how loyal and wise Pycelle had been to House Lannister.
In Aerys's reign, though he served the dragons, his heart was with the lions. It was Pycelle who urged the Mad King to open the gates and let Tywin march in leading to the death of the entire Targaryen family.
In Robert's reign, he not only kept silent about Cersei's incest but also helped dispose of Jon Arryn, the "first and greatest foster-father" of the Game of Thrones, who had uncovered the secret.
Jon Arryn was poisoned by Lysa at Littlefinger's instigation, but it was a slow-acting poison that could have been treated. Pycelle drove away Maester Colemon, who had been tending to the old Lord Arryn.
(As an aside, Maester Colemon was the sworn maester of House Arryn, much like Maester Luwin at Winterfell, yet he betrayed old Jon. When Pycelle forbade him from treating Jon any further, he truly abandoned his own lord.)
During Tommen's reign, Pycelle also tried to clean up the mess Cersei had left behind. It was even he who granted Kevan the title of Regent.
Such a loyal servant across so many reigns naturally earned some favor from the Regent.
The messenger was a boy of twelve or thirteen, wrapped in a sheepskin coat worn pale from washing. He stood shivering beneath the drawbridge, hunching his shoulders and stamping his feet.
He was a quick-witted little novice whom Kevan had seen a few times at the rookery.
The Red Keep was divided into inner and outer baileys. The inner section, Maegor's Holdfast, belonged to the royal family. It was encircled by walls four meters thick and a dry moat bristling with iron spikes. Aside from the drawbridge, there was almost no other way in or out.
Around Maegor's Holdfast stood the rookery, where the maesters dwelled, the Tower of the Hand, the White Sword Tower of the Kingsguard, the hall for council meetings, the sept, the maidenvault, the dungeons, and more.
When the drawbridge was lowered, Ser Kevan emerged from the gatehouse under the guard of a Kingsguard knight and eight gold-cloaked Lannister men-at-arms.
Catching sight of the boy's frost-reddened, cracked face, the Regent paused, pulled two copper coins from his pocket, and handed them over. "Go inside and ask a guard for a cup of wine. Warm yourself up."
Creaking under their boots, the group trudged through the bleak, gray moonlight, leaving a trail of muddled footprints in the ankle-deep snow of the courtyard.
"Could the Long Night truly be coming?"
Looking at the towers and stone paths draped in white as though by a vast blanket, and then at the icicles dangling from the eaves like spears, Ser Kevan suddenly felt a chill of dread in his heart.
The maesters were accustomed to living in the rookery; even the Grand Maester's chambers were located there.
At the base of the tower, a maid received the Regent and left eight guards outside. Kevan and the Kingsguard knight Ser Boros pushed open the door to the Grand Maester's chambers.
At once, a wave of warmth tinged with wine and red firelight swept over them.
The hearth blazed, and before it stood two armchairs, backs turned to the door. From Kevan's angle, he could see the bald crown of Grand Maester Pycelle peeking over one of them.
The other chair was empty, perhaps left for him.
Beside the chairs stood a small table with two bottles of golden wine and two glass goblets.
Kevan stamped his boots on the threshold, shaking snow from his cloak and boots, then unfastened his heavy lion-emblazoned mantle as he stepped inside.
"Grand Maester, calling me here so late what is it about?" the Regent asked, handing his cloak to the Kingsguard and moving toward the hearth.
"Your nephew has returned," came a voice from beside the fire.
"Jaime is " Kevan began, then froze, his expression twisting in shock. "Tyrion!!!!"
"Hush, not so loud!" The high-backed chair beside Pycelle turned, revealing the dwarf curled within.
Tyrion smiled faintly, but each hand held a crossbow one aimed at his uncle, the other at the Kingsguard knight.
"Don't move!"
Boros had been thinking that, clad in armor, he might still rush in, when suddenly a shadow glided silently up behind him and pressed a cold blade to his throat.
The Kingsguard turned to stone, standing stiff and still, his hands at his sides.
"This is a Kingsguard! Hahaha!"
Tyrion tossed the crossbow onto the thick Myrish carpet and rocked with laughter in his chair.
"Uncle, if you'd brought a whore, at least she would have screamed. I truly wonder Father was shrewd and strong all his life, yet how did he ever bring this useless fool back into service?"
During the War of the Five Kings, Cersei had feared her son would fall into Tyrion's clutches, so she arranged for Ser Boros Blount to escort Tommen away from King's Landing after Tyrion, against Cersei's wishes, had sent Myrcella to Dorne for a marriage alliance.
The Imp then arranged for clansmen disguised as brigands to attack the party. The Kingsguard had offered no resistance at all and simply handed Tommen over.
For that, he became the second Kingsguard Cersei dismissed.
Later, when Tywin ruled King's Landing, he recalled the cowardly knight, giving him a second chance.
Now, mocked to his face as being less useful than a whore, the Kingsguard could only flush crimson and keep silent.
"So Cersei wasn't wrong you've been skulking in the tunnels of the Red Keep all along!" Kevan said, face dark with fury.
"Ah, now I finally understand why everyone says Westeros is such a backwater.
The news here is far too slow! Imagine, I General Wildfire, a second-rank minister, a man honored with the Yellow Jacket, who accomplished great feats in Slaver's Bay that shook the world and you, Uncle, know nothing of it." Tyrion shook his head with mock solemnity.
"Slaver's Bay?" Kevan stiffened, his anger rising. "You've joined Daenerys. And now you've come to kill me?"
(End of chapter)
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