Lannisport.
House of Kevan Lannister
Evening.
Outside Lannisport, the sun was setting over a calm, mirror-like sea. The golden glow along the shore was beautiful and enchanting. But inside Lannisport's center, night had already fallen.
Lannisport was carved into a rocky mountain about twenty miles long and fifteen miles wide. Because natural light barely reached inside, darkness came earlier within the city than outside.
Outside, the sunset painted a picturesque scene. Inside, torches were lit everywhere, casting a bright glow like daylight.
Tywin rode slowly down the main street, mounted on a tall warhorse. Beside him rode Maester Pycelle. They moved side by side.
A short distance behind them, ten sword-bearing guards protecting the Lord.
Tywin's saddle was embroidered with golden thread, shining brightly. His horse's head and body were draped in golden silk decorations, dressing the warhorse like fine embroidery.
The warhorse reached the gates of Lord Kevan Lannister's castle. Kevan came out to greet his elder brother, Lord Tywin. But Tywin did not dismount and rode inside instead. Passing through the gates was a large courtyard filled with flowers and plants. Only when they reached the hall's entrance did Tywin stop and dismount. Servants immediately took the reins and led the horse to the stables.
The master-at-Arms and his ten guards dismounted at the main hall doors, drawing their swords and standing guard.
Kevan was cautious and taciturn, rarely mingling with other Westerland nobles. Although the city was bustling with nobles and knights from across the West due to the upcoming wedding of Jeyne and Gregor, no one came to visit or stay at the silent and aloof Kevan's castle.
Kevan led the way as he and Tywin crossed the hall, Maester Pycelle following. The three turned down a corridor and entered the tall Maester's Tower.
Kevan was unusually secretive on this journey. Tywin, calm and patient as ever, nevertheless furrowed his brows slightly.
Tywin did not know why Kevan had secretly summoned him here.
Tywin disliked mysteries and beating around the bush, but even Kevan seemed to think the matter was serious. Finally, the three reached the Maester's Tower.
The tower had four floors.
On the second floor was a cozy study room. Kevan gently pushed open the door and respectfully stood aside, waiting for Lord Tywin and Maester Pycelle to enter.
The study was warm and inviting, lined on all four walls with bookshelves filled from the lowest shelf all the way to the ceiling.
Three people were already inside, two maesters and a lord.
Lord Auren was also a Lannister, Lord Auren Lannister, lord of Lannisport. Standing beside him was his Maester, Barlow. The other maester was Yarlin, Kevan's maester and master of this tower.
The two maester and lord rose immediately to greet Lord Tywin, bowing and smiling warmly.
Tywin's expression was unreadable. He did not acknowledge their greetings but instead took the seat of honor and sipped quietly from the tea already prepared. Maester Pycelle stood behind him.
No one could tell from Tywin's face what he was feeling.
If Tywin chose not to reveal emotion, his face was like iron, eyes unfocused. You thought he was looking at you, but upon closer inspection, he wasn't. Or you thought he wasn't looking, but in fact, he was watching you carefully.
"My lord, Lord Auren has something important to tell you." Kevan said carefully, glancing at his brother's face. "He feared causing unnecessary misunderstanding, so he chose my place. In three days, Jeyne and Gregor's wedding will take place. Nobles and knights from all over the West are in the city, but my place, whether on usual days or festivals, is basically..."
Tywin abruptly waved his hand, cutting off Kevan's rambling.
Embarrassed, Kevan fell silent and gave Auren a subtle glance.
Auren smiled, "Your Grace, I believe there are unusual matters you need to know and be cautious about. That's why I dared to come to Lord Kevan's place. I first discussed it with Kevan, who agreed it's necessary to report to you. This is also my sworn loyalty, I must speak my true thoughts."
Tywin's unfocused eyes finally settled on Odo. He neither encouraged him to continue nor told him to stop.
Beads of sweat appeared on Auren's nose. He grew nervous, the Lord's expression made him doubt his own decision. But the arrow was already knocked.
"Maester Barlow, please show Lord Tywin the diagram of the P-trap."
"Yes, my lord!, Lord Tywin, here it is. This is called a P-trap. This is the diagram and principle of the P-trap." Maester Barlow stood, unfurled a parchment. The drawing and annotations were exactly the same as the one Jeyne had drawn in Lannisport.
The original!
Pycelle, the maester standing beside Lord Tywin, stepped forward slightly, glanced at the diagram, then quickly scanned Jeyne's notes. He said, "Yesterday, Lady Jeyne already explained this to Lord Auren and me. It's a sewage pipe component she named the P-trap. A very apt and pleasant name."
"Yes, maester. I also knew Jeyne would tell my lord about this invention, but what I want to say is, did Jeyne really invent this?" Odo's tone hardened. "My lord, if the P-trap wasn't invented by Jeyne but by Ser Gregor, then Jeyne and Gregor are deceiving you."
These words were sharp, directly attacking the trust between Gregor and Lord Tywin.
Gregor was a ruthless, infamous figure, lawless and cruel. Yet for sixteen years, despite his misdeeds, no one in the Seven Kingdoms had been able to defeat him. Why? Because of the mountain that was Lord Tywin.
Why did Tywin use such a villain and endure the kingdom's scorn? Because Gregor was useful. But more than usefulness, what truly moved Tywin was Gregor's absolute loyalty.
Auren's accusation cut straight at Gregor's loyalty to Tywin.
Backstabbing is a double-edged sword, if it doesn't hurt others, it can hurt oneself.
Tywin stared at Auren without a word, face impassive.
Auren's forehead broke out in nervous sweat.
But the arrow was already on the bowstring.
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