“If I remember correctly, our family motto is ‘Hear me roar.’ So how is it that now we find ourselves facing death, whether we roar or not? Are you all at a loss?” Tyrion still wore a grin, as if he were completely unaware of the crisis hanging over his family. He only glanced at the note before him and immediately understood the situation. “The choice before us is very clear. Either we roar and get hacked to death while roaring… or we lie down, wag our tails obediently, and hand over my dear brother and sister to be executed. Then, in the future, I will inherit the title of Duke of Casterly Rock and let me, the little imp, rebuild our crumbling house.”

“Tch,” Cersei snorted coldly, while Jaime shot his brother an unhappy glare. With the situation this dire, how could Tyrion still joke so shamelessly?

Tywin said nothing. He simply stared at Tyrion until the dwarf shrugged, feigning boredom. “Well, there is one other option. We could attempt to negotiate a compromise with the Iron Throne. Let Jaime, who attacked the king, take the black, and argue that the charges against Cersei lack sufficient evidence to prosecute her.”

“Compromise is always the path of the defeated,” Kevan replied, his voice calm but firm. “This time, Robert leads all six kingdoms against us. Why would he choose to show mercy to Jaime and Cersei?”

“Uncle, you are right. Robert would never agree to such a compromise. Which is why… he needs to die.” Tyrion shook his head and looked at Jaime regretfully. “Brother, not killing him with your strike was the greatest mistake of your life. As long as our good king lives, there is no chance of resolving this crisis. Instead of debating whether to accept the demands of the ultimatum, perhaps we should be asking ourselves which of the Free Cities across the Narrow Sea would be safest for us to flee to… and whether the ship that carries us there can avoid pursuit by the Iron Throne’s forces.”

The atmosphere in the hall became thick with tension. They were openly discussing regicide.

Tywin continued to stare at Tyrion, saying nothing. Of the four others present, only his youngest son saw things as clearly as he did. If it weren’t for the dwarf’s appearance, which damaged the family’s reputation, and his indulgent lifestyle… Tywin might have considered abandoning Jaime and Cersei altogether and naming Tyrion as his heir. Perhaps this little imp truly was the one capable of saving House Lannister from destruction.

When it came to disgraceful private lives, Jaime and Cersei, the children he had always been most proud of, had done far worse. What right did he have to hold Tyrion’s brothel visits against him?

…

“Father,” Tyrion said, breaking the silence, “you were able to send soldiers to retrieve Jaime and Cersei so quickly. Clearly, someone tipped you off. There are no outsiders here. At this moment, when the very survival of our house is at stake, may I ask… was your informant inside the Red Keep?”

“Pycelle,” Tywin replied flatly.

“When I served as Hand of the King under the Mad King, I worked alongside him to bring order to the Seven Kingdoms. We forged a long-standing friendship.”

Friendship was a polite term. Tywin alone knew that Grand Maester Pycelle had always been his man. Even Kevan and Cersei believed Pycelle was merely loyal to the Lannisters because of the family’s wealth and royal connections. None of them knew that Pycelle had been quietly supporting Tywin long before Cersei was even born.

This sort of inside knowledge would normally have remained a secret even from his closest family. But with their house now facing extinction, what use was there in keeping such cards hidden?

“It was him,” Tyrion said, realization dawning. “No wonder you always receive news first. I imagine that before Eddard’s men even leave King’s Landing, the ravens carrying your reports are already in flight. Let me guess… at the end of Robert’s Rebellion, it must have been your loyal ‘friend’ who persuaded the Mad King to open the city gates and admit your army.”

Jaime and Cersei looked at their father, stunned. They had never imagined their father possessed such leverage. How many secrets did he still keep hidden from them?

Tywin did not respond, tacitly confirming their suspicions.

Tyrion recovered quickly from his surprise. It was unexpected, but made perfect sense. “Then the question becomes, Father… if Pycelle was willing to help you breach the gates of King’s Landing once, would he now be willing to help you by killing Robert?”

“That may be difficult,” Kevan replied thoughtfully. “The last time, he could justify it as saving the people from the Mad King’s tyranny. But now, public opinion is against us. Who would risk their life to assassinate a king so firmly supported by all Seven Kingdoms?”

“Pycelle is the Grand Maester. He must be tending Robert’s wounds himself. If he were to tamper with the medicine, making the wound fester and refuse to heal… that would be the easiest way. Once Robert is dead and his body burned, even the Seven wouldn’t be able to tell what happened,” Tyrion suggested with a smile.

“Pycelle wouldn’t have the nerve,” Cersei scoffed. “It would be better to go to Braavos and hire the Faceless Men. They are said to never fail.”

“The Faceless Men are not the simple assassins most people believe them to be,” Jaime shook his head. “They are far more complicated. Robert is one of the Iron Bank of Braavos’s most important clients. As long as he remains in good standing, the chances of bribing the Faceless Men to kill him are slim to none. Even if we offered twice his debt in coin, Braavos would hesitate to damage its reputation by accepting such a commission.”

Tywin ignored the argument between his golden children, continuing to watch Tyrion carefully. He did not like the boy, but he could not deny his sharp mind. Ordinary methods would not save them now. Perhaps it was time to consider more unconventional strategies.

“Suppose,” Tywin began slowly, “and I emphasize suppose… if I had a way to kill Robert, what would you suggest we do next?”

He already had a plan in mind but wanted to test Tyrion’s thinking. Jaime, having attacked the king twice, was no longer fit to be heir. Though Tyrion was hardly an ideal choice, he might yet prove to be a valuable advisor.

“Assuming Robert dies,” Tywin continued, “whoever takes the throne would still never forgive Jaime, the kingslayer, or the former queen accused by so many rumors.”

…

“Let’s take this one step at a time, Father,” Tyrion replied calmly. “If House Lannister wants to survive this crisis, there can be no missteps. Instead of worrying about ‘what comes next,’ our first concern should be the enemy closest to us. If we make the wrong move, they could be raiding our shores before nightfall.”

“Ironborn?” Tywin’s eyes narrowed. He had wanted to test Tyrion’s thinking, but the dwarf’s first words immediately brought him back to reality. For the past two days, he had been focused on the threat from the Iron Throne and the six kingdoms, nearly forgetting the more immediate danger so close to home.

“Since Aegon’s Conquest, the Ironborn have been forbidden from using the Old Way of reaving. This has allowed the western coast to flourish peacefully. But the Ironborn have long hungered for the wealth of the Westerlands,” Kevan agreed, his expression grim. “Now, with Jaime’s attack on Robert, I fear the raiders will take this as their chance. They could already be setting sail to plunder the villages and towns along the western shores.”

“Guards!” Tywin did not wait for the meeting to end. He called for his men immediately and issued orders in front of everyone. “Send word to the fleets at Lannisport and Fair Isle. They are to put out to sea at once, patrolling the coast and ready for battle. Make sure they are not caught in port by an enemy blockade. Notify all coastal lords of the Westerlands to evacuate their people and secure their assets within reliable castles. Increase patrols, raise the alert to the highest level.”

Cersei frowned, puzzled. “The ten-day ultimatum has not yet expired. Would the Ironborn really defy the Iron Throne and move first?”

“If they attack us and force our surrender to the Iron Throne, do you really think Eddard Stark will punish them afterward?” Tywin shot a cold glance at his daughter. If Cersei were not directly involved in this disaster, he would have told her to leave the room. “At worst, the Ironborn can simply deny responsibility. In a realm this chaotic, who will prove otherwise?”

“Father, your decisiveness is admirable,” Tyrion said with a smile. “It seems you have no intention of handing my brother and sister over to be executed. If that is the case, then we must begin preparing for war. Should we wait for the six kingdoms to gather their forces and meet them in open battle? Or should we strike first, avoid direct confrontation, and attack where they are weakest? If we choose to take the initiative, who should we strike first?”

“Take the initiative?” Kevan was startled by Tyrion’s suggestion. “We are the weaker side. If we strike first, we will be giving up any chance for negotiation. It would be suicide.”

“Uncle is right. Whoever attacks first usually dies first. But,” Tyrion pointed out, “Father just said, ‘If we can kill Robert.’ That changes everything.”

He took a sip of wine before continuing. “If Robert remains alive, it doesn’t matter how clever our strategies are. We will lose. But if Robert dies, the one who strikes first may well hold the advantage. So I ask you plainly, Father—no more hypotheticals. Do you have a way to kill Robert? Even a small possibility?”

“For the future of our house, we must be willing to take any risk,” Tywin answered, his eyes sharp. “There are still a few within the Red Keep who are not loyal to the Iron Throne. I can reach out to them. At this point, life or death no longer matters. We have to try.”

He leaned forward slightly, fixing his gaze on Tyrion. “Aside from guarding against the Ironborn, do you have any other suggestions? Do not hold back. Tell me everything now.”

(To be continued.)

***

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep