Chapter 285 Headless Lion
Light shone through the window lattice, shining on James' palm.
The golden hollow carving also has a lion's head with its mouth wide open, showing its fangs in a show of power.
I'm afraid they all have to be chiseled off and replaced. James looked at the palm of his hand, his mind filled with these irrelevant things.
Just now, he wanted to tell William that the wine bottles in the Red Keep contained the smell of smoke, and the flowers and trees next to his residence had been replaced by a new batch of new ones by the troubled people of the Reach.
He wants the morning glory of the West, not the golden roses of the Reach.
He had a petal of morning glory hidden in his hand. James still remembered that his mother picked the first petal for him from the cliff of Casterly Rock.
Mother. He just remembered that the person he dreamed about recently was not Cersei, but his mother.
The face that caused her guilty smile was her mother's sad smile, not Cersei's.
If she were still here, maybe the ending would be different.
"Sir, it's all sorted."
James was stunned for a moment, recovered, and turned to see the white robes and his unique Kingsguard armor neatly arranged on the table.
The gold-rimmed decoration is the symbol of Lannister, the white armor is the standard equipment of the Kingsguard, and the flawless white robes.
He rolled up his white robe, smoothed the fine folds with his palms, and nodded.
"Transfer it to Ser Barristan for me, William." Jaime smiled and looked at William, who also had Lannister blond hair, put down his white robe, dressed in plain clothes, and walked out of the house.
"I will help you find Lord Tywin's head," William Lannister murmured behind him.
James just smiled and walked out of the door.
At least it was a wise choice not to live in White Sword Tower, as he didn't have to face his sworn brothers.
The road from the palace to the dungeon was not long, only about ten minutes. The maids on the road seemed to have been cleared. There was only one gardener who was still spinning among the flowers and watering her. When she saw him, she just nodded lightly and did not approach.
There are still many small triangular Lannister flags hanging in the corridor, but the air is a bit heavy at this time and there is no wind, so the flags can't be seen swaying in unison.
Walking through the corridor and passing through the open garden, the blue-robed guards in the valley looked at him through their visors from time to time, but no one really wanted to draw their swords and subdue him.
For the first time in history, James laughed to himself, people were so tolerant and indifferent to a parricide.
Is it Cersei's problem or his? James couldn't help but think.
He lowered his head and walked into the dungeon.
There weren't many jailers, but there were a lot more craftsmen and wall painters. Almost every wall had a craftsman tapping it with a thin hammer, followed by a wall painter washing the mud.
Cautious enough, James walked down and found that the original entrance to the tunnel was sealed, and several blue robes gathered around chatting about something.
The jailer stepped forward, nodded slightly to him, and led him to a prison with an open door. As soon as he turned his head, there was a smell of foie gras mixed with juice coming from inside and lingering in front of his nose.
A table, two wine glasses, a wine bottle, and a plate of whole chicken.
Tyrion was pulling the chicken legs, mixing the sauce, and savoring the aroma and wine.
Jaime was not surprised. He walked slowly into the prison. The jailer closed the door but did not lock it. After getting Tyrion's nod, he turned and left.
"The Prime Minister is so not worried about me escaping?"
Tyrion chewed the meat and slurred in his mouth, "This delicious chicken is in front of you. Eat a few pieces."
James looked at his younger brother. The clothes he wore were low-key but not luxurious. The dark red coat material must be expensive. The Lannister golden lion was embroidered on the lower right side of the front of the coat, which was exquisite and gorgeous.
"It was a good time at Attis Arryn's."
Tyrion nodded without hesitation, "Most people in the valley are very arrogant, but they are all people who worship the gods. Most of the people who worship the gods are not bad in nature."
James came over, sat at the table, pulled off a piece of the leg and stuffed it into his mouth.
Tyrion's chewing speed slowed down, and he looked at Jaime's face, the scars were still hideous.
"You can actually ask the maid to put on makeup for you to cover up your scars."
"No need," James shook his head, "A person who kills kings and relatives does not need any cover-up. The Seven Gods will not give him a chance of honor."
Tyrion sighed slightly, his heart trembling, and a trace of panic crept onto his face. He was not sure how Jaime felt before, but now Tyrion seemed to be able to feel that Jaime meant what he meant, and the calmness in his voice was also the peace in his heart.
This...isn't like James. Tyrion swallowed the chicken pieces dipped in sauce and was silent for a long time.
The silence was not broken until James spoke.
"I heard that he executed many people."
Tyrion knew he was referring to Attis, and coughed slightly, trying to mumble, "The person who deserves it."
"When will it be my turn?" James took a sip of wine and asked.
"James." Tyrion's eyes widened and he looked at his brother, "I think you can give me an explanation." Tyrion couldn't sit still anymore and leaned forward, "Cersei must have wanted to What, did she control the wildfire, I said, she."
"She's a madman," James interrupted.
Tyrion swallowed his words, clenched his hands into fists, and sat back.
"Some small things," Tyrion held his forehead, "I have sent people to Flea Bottom to look for my father. Ahem, it's best to get my father's head back before the funeral." He took a deep breath, "There are also father's. The funeral will be held tomorrow, do you want it?"
Jaime looked at Tyrion, who shut his mouth again and stood up.
"I understand," Tyrion said, "Listen to me, the Wall is very good, and it's not bad to replace the white clothes with black clothes. There is a shortage of people there."
When he reached out to push open the prison door, James's voice sounded behind him again.
"When will you return to Casterly Rock?"
Tyrion's hands froze in place and did not turn his head, "Probably, when everything settles."
He opened the door and walked out of the cell.
James stared at the plate of chicken in front of him, chewing and losing the taste in his mouth, like a candle shattering into pieces under his teeth.
A tear slipped from the corner of his eye and dripped into the wine glass, causing brief ripples.
James raised his glass and drank it in one gulp.
The monks paced around the seven-pointed star in the main hall of the temple, and the silent sisters who served the strangers gathered around the two corpses, their heads lowered, their faces invisible under their cloaks.
The low chants echoed in the huge main hall, and the voices were solemn.
"Prime Minister, Lord Tywin's head has been found." Ange said to him, holding a black cloth in his hand.
The silent sisters stepped forward, took the black cloth, and spread it out in front of the coffin.
Bald and thin, that was all Artis could make out.
The eyeballs had disappeared, and the face was so bloody that it was impossible to tell whether it was Tywin.
There were two jokes between the two generations of Lannister, Attis thought to himself, the laughing lion and the headless lion.
Tyrion walked over slowly, squatted down close to his head, frowned, and looked carefully.
He forced a smile, stood up, and nodded to the Silent Sisters.
The latter remained silent, approached Tywin's body, took off the wooden head that had been replaced, put the real head on it, got a needle, thread and scissors, and began to sew and mend.
"Will James come?"
Tyrion shook his head, "He won't come," he continued after a moment of silence, "At least when I went to see him, I didn't have any thoughts of suicide."
"So," Tyrion raised his head and looked at Attis, "I advised him to take the initiative to put on black clothes."
"Wise choice, he is a brave man."
"Brave?"
"The bravest person is to choose to live at this time." There was no emotion in Attis's words, but Tyrion heard comfort in it, comfort for himself.
He nodded and sighed, "Poor Lannister"
"The Great Wall needs more brave people like this." Attis said suddenly.
The two of them didn't say anything more, just watching silently the sewing work of Sister Jingmo.
(End of chapter)