After seven long and exhausting days at sea, the welcome sight of Lannisport served as salvation to the weary men on the ship sailing with Robert Baratheon.

“By the gods. I have half a mind to go back to Pyke and behead Balon Greyjoy for this shit,” Robert muttered under his breath.

He scowled deeply as he saw exactly who had arrived at the sprawling port to welcome him back to the mainland.

Lord Tywin Lannister and his younger brother Gerion Lannister stood waiting on the stone docks.

Both men maintained perfectly straight backs, their piercing green gazes fixed steadily toward the king as the royal vessel finally made landfall.

Just as Robert stepped off the wooden ramp and reached the Lord of Casterly Rock, every single soldier and servant standing behind the Lannister brothers dropped to their knees.

Tywin and Gerion themselves offered deep, respectful bows before straightening up to look back at the monarch.

“Lannisport is yours, Your Grace,” Tywin declared smoothly.

The imposing lord received a brief nod from the king in return. Tywin then moved his gaze toward the rest of the party who had made landfall with Robert.

The Lord of Casterly Rock could not completely hide the fact that his cold eyes lingered on Ra for a moment longer than anyone else.

Beside him, Gerion was looking directly at the Custodian of Nightshade with open curiosity and a grin.

Robert answered Tywin’s formal greeting with a low hum and another nod before reaching out and firmly clasping Gerion’s shoulder for a brief moment.

Tywin took charge immediately. He led the exhausted royal party toward a long line of luxurious wheelhouses he had set up not too far from the docks.

Lannister guards efficiently assigned a specific wheelhouse to every lord and high ranking vassal present.

The common foot soldiers, however, were expected to travel the remaining distance either on their horses or on foot.

The king’s party was soon led into a magnificent feasting hall. The grand event had been meticulously arranged by Tywin himself, purposely designed to showcase the wealth and limitless resources of House Lannister.

Even the common soldiers resting outside were provided with exceptionally good food and flowing sweet wine.

They received such a bounty not because they had fought bravely for their king, but purely because the Lannister lord demanded that his feast display his unmatched prosperity to the entire realm.

“How are the preparations for the tourney coming along?” Robert asked, a genuinely excited gleam shining in his bright blue eyes.

Tywin looked calmly at the king. He finished chewing the rich food in his mouth and gracefully dabbed his lips with a fine silk cloth before offering his response.

“It is moving along quite well, Your Grace. Lords and knights from across the Seven Kingdoms will gather near the port on the morrow to celebrate your great victory,” Tywin answered, allowing a rare, prideful gleam to surface in his usually guarded expression.

That pride vanished entirely the very next moment. A sharp frown instantly replaced his composed expression when he saw his youngest child entering the massive feasting hall.

And as if the dwarf’s mere presence was not enough of an insult to the Warden of the West, the little monster was actually carrying a tiny babe in his arms.

The baby girl was no more than a single name day old. She was none other than the bastard daughter of Gerion, a little girl named Joy Hill.

In Tywin’s rigid mind, this entire display was nothing but Tyrion’s latest ploy to make him lose his composure in front of the king and the other assembled lords.

Taking a slow and deep breath, Tywin opened his mouth to dismiss his son and the bastard child. However, he was unexpectedly interrupted by another booming voice.

The king had spoken first.

“Ah! The Imp is here. Who is it you have in your arms, boy?” Robert asked Tyrion in his typically loud and boisterous manner.

“My new cousin, Your Grace. Jaime has never met his young cousin before today. I thought it prudent to bring her with me when I joined the feast,” Tyrion answered smoothly.

If the king’s blunt way of addressing him had bothered Tyrion at all, no one in the room would have been able to see it on his face.

“And whose little pup is this?” Robert inquired further, taking a gulp of his wine.

“My uncle Gerion’s. It seems he can do more than laugh” Tyrion answered before looking towards his uncle with an easy grin.

By now, the dwarf had waddled over to sit right beside his older brother. He carefully deposited the little girl directly into Jaime’s waiting arms.

Robert let out a deep chuckle when he observed the tiny girl tightly gripping onto Jaime’s finger.

“Fierce, this one is. She reminds me of my own girl,” Robert muttered softly. He took another gulp of his wine and continued eating his roasted meat.

The king was talking about his eldest bastard daughter, Mya Stone. He had made a devoted habit of visiting her almost every single day when she was just born in the Vale.

He had even mentioned to Cersei once that he wished to bring the girl to live in the Red Keep.

His queen, however, had implied a lethal threat upon the girl’s life if he ever did, forcing Robert to back off completely.

“She may agree now,” Robert whispered quietly to himself as he looked down at his wine goblet thoughtfully.

“I will definitely make the time to visit little Myrcella one of these days,” Gerion commented with an agreeable hum.

He had assumed Robert was talking about Princess Myrcella, who had been born just one year prior.

“You are one Lannister I would happily welcome,” Robert declared loudly with a booming laugh, reaching over to pat the cheerful man hard on the back.

Tywin clicked his tongue internally in pure annoyance. He had completely lost control of the current conversation, and the Warden of the West absolutely despised not being the one in total control of his surroundings.

“Take the bastard girl out to the gardens, Jaime. We would not want the little one to be overwhelmed by the noise,” Tywin instructed.

He spoke lightly but with a firm underlying authority, trying his best not to seem openly angry in front of the royal guests.

Gerion let out a quiet sigh, his fist clenching tightly in his lap under the heavy wooden table. Jaime simply nodded in obedience and started to get up to leave the hall. He stopped in his tracks when the king intervened.

“We will be quieter,” Robert said dismissively, implying that he preferred the baby girl to remain right there in the hall.

Tywin offered a stiff, slight nod and went back to eating his food in silence. Jaime immediately sat back down in his chair and began talking to his little niece exactly like the innocent baby she was.

Robert paused mid meal. He slowly turned his gaze toward Ra, wearing a deeply inquisitive expression on his bearded face.

“Tell me, Ra. Will you be joining the grand tourney tomorrow?” Robert asked.

The people sitting around them immediately stopped talking so they could clearly listen to the Custodian’s response.

Even Lord Tywin fixed his sharp gaze upon Ra, his stoic face betraying a slight, but genuinely curious expression.

“I will not,” Ra replied. It was a perfectly to the point response that did not really manage to surprise anyone sitting around the table.

“I thought so,” Robert muttered in understanding. He returned to his feast as heavy thoughts of his own began to swirl within his head.

“And here I was truly hoping to have a joust against you,” Jaime said, offering a slow shake of his golden head while a small, arrogant smile played upon his lips.

“You can always help yourself with laying in the dirt without my help,” Ra quipped with a light, effortless laugh.

Jaime simply shook his head at the jest and went back to gently bouncing the little girl in his lap.

After the massive feast finally concluded, the smaller lords and ordinary knights were escorted to their assigned quarters for some much needed rest.

Tywin, however, asked Robert to stay back in the hall. Robert in turn ordered Ned to stay back, and Ned subsequently asked Ra to remain behind as well.

Tywin moved his head slowly as he surveyed the few remaining men in the vast room. He then gestured sharply to a young cupbearer standing nearby.

The boy quickly rushed forward and placed a detailed piece of parchment onto the wooden table.

“This is the official schedule for tomorrow, Your Grace,” Tywin started, formally explaining the grand tourney he had carefully set up for the king.

The Lord of Casterly Rock had deliberately kept the actual events fairly simple. The tourney entailed a bright morning start with an archery competition, which would be immediately followed by the grand jousting matches.

The ultimate winner of the joust would naturally earn the honor of crowning the new Queen of Love and Beauty.

While Tywin had kept the actual proceedings somewhat simple, he remained determined to show the wealth and power of his noble house through the flawless organization and lavish infrastructure of the tourney grounds.

“No melee?” Robert muttered in disappointment, even though he already knew the exact answer to his own muttering. This was exactly why he interrupted Tywin before the Lannister lord was even about to answer.

“We cannot have that now. Can we?” Robert asked out loud, a knowing edge hidden in his booming voice.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep