Varys sipped his wine and said, "Ah, sweet as summer, the grapes sing on my tongue."
Tyrion Lannister watched Varys's performance silently.
Varys reined in the smile on his face a bit and said, "Prime Minister Tyrion, I assure you, I served Prime Minister Arryn and Prime Minister Stark to the best of my abilities, but..."
Shaking his head slightly, a hint of grievance appeared on his face, and he continued, "They have their own principles, and they are firm-willed.
As the Master of Whisperers, hated by all, I truly was powerless."
Tyrion swirled the wine in his cup and said, "What about me?"
Varys smiled faintly, habitually clasping his hands together: "You are... the wisest Hand of the King I have ever seen."
Tyrion grinned: "But?"
Varys paused slightly, then smiled and said, "You understand what power is, or what true strength is, but..."
At this point, Varys moved his lips, smiling and shaking his head: "Casterly Rock's spring of wisdom favors you."
He first offered a compliment, then continued, "Prime Minister Tyrion, your sword is very frightening.
Fear can breed thoughts of resistance, and the consequences can become unpredictable."
Tyrion's bicolored eyes flickered.
As he swirled his wine, he said, "The two Baratheon brothers will sooner or later march on King's Landing.
I need to prepare for war; I don't have time to play around with others."
Varys nodded.
He sighed and said, "Understanding each other's difficulties... it's too hard!"
Tyrion shrugged: "I have no choice but to do this."
Varys nodded slightly, smiling, and said, "This is the Hand of the King's firm will.
You see... I still cannot stop it."
Tyrion chuckled: "Lord Varys, I might end up following in the footsteps of previous Hands of the King... Hmm, I think being poisoned might be better than being swallowed whole.
I'm quite curious about my fate."
Varys smiled and said, "The fact that you can say that shows you don't worry about the future."
Tyrion picked up his wine cup, took a shallow sip, and said, "To my benevolent father."
Varys nodded in agreement: "Indeed, Duke Tywin would never allow anyone to harm Lannister."
Tyrion murmured, loud enough only for himself to hear, "Lannister."
Seeing Tyrion somewhat distracted, Varys continued, "Prime Minister, I must admit you've done a truly splendid job this time!
Your presence in this position fills me with increased confidence in the future of the kingdom."
Tyrion reached up and rubbed his temples, saying, "Are you referring to the Gold Cloaks?"
Varys's voice seemed to be filled with emotion: "Queen Regent Cersei controls King's Landing with two swords, a fact known only to a few."
Tyrion grinned: "And that few includes my good sister, I presume."
Hearing Tyrion's jest, Varys immediately became tense: "Prime Minister, the Queen Regent is your own sister.
I wouldn't dare make fun of her."
Tyrion waved his hand: "Lord Varys, it's just a private joke.
This is because I'm gradually trusting you.
Continue."
Varys first bowed slightly, then continued, "One sword left King's Landing voluntarily, while the other was forced to leave.
Of course... there's also a new sword, a decorative sword."
Tyrion's eyes shifted slightly.
He felt as if Varys was probing for something.
What did he want to know?
The real reason Greene left King's Landing?
Why did the eunuch want to know this answer... He was silent for a moment, then said, "The person I truly need to thank is still my good sister.
A loyal sword will not defy orders, even unreasonable ones."
Varys's eyes flickered.
He paused, seemingly regretting: "At least he left the maelstrom of King's Landing..."
Tyrion chuckled, stating directly, "Perhaps Count Greene was homesick."
Varys sighed, "In the Red Keep, the unchanging truth is always big fish eat little fish."
Tyrion seemed not to understand Varys's insinuation: "Lord Varys, cheer up.
My sister still has the Kingsguard with their beautiful cloaks."
Varys lamented, "When Ser Barristan Selmy was expelled, he threw his sword at the Iron Throne, but he also took with him the Kingsguard's last shred of honor."
Tyrion laughed heartily: "Do eunuchs understand honor too?"
Varys's eyes moved slightly.
He paused, then revealed a cunning smile: "Of course, eunuchs don't understand honor, but I think... our views on honor might have quite a lot in common."
"Haha, I like your honesty."
Tyrion raised his cup in a toast: "It's strange to say, but I find I like you more and more.
Is it because I'm half a man..."
He put down his wine cup and continued, "I'm small, my legs are underdeveloped, and women aren't interested in me, but the gods above have been kind enough to me; at least I'm still a man, and one day I might even marry and have children.
If the gods favor me, my son will have Jaime's looks and Tywin's mind.
And you, you can't even have a dream like that..."
After a pause, Tyrion said seriously, "Dwarfs are a prank of the gods, but eunuchs are a sin created by mortals on earth.
Varys, what is your true identity?"
Varys's expression remained unchanged: "Prime Minister, as you said, eunuchs don't have many choices.
I just want to be a servant of the kingdom.
If possible, I hope my humble abilities can serve the power that can bring stability to the kingdom.
Therefore, every time I will do my best for my small wish."
Tyrion stared at Varys for a moment.
He tilted his head and said, "Power?"
Varys smiled and said, "Power is a strange thing... Prime Minister Tyrion, have you ever thought about the riddle I posed to you in the tavern that day?"
"Once or twice..."
Tyrion nodded slightly and said, "The king, the priest, the rich man, who will die?
Who will live?
Lord Varys, it's a riddle without an answer, or rather... there are too many answers, it depends on how the person holding the sword chooses."
Varys smiled faintly: "Yet he is nothing.
He has no crown, no gold or silver, and no favor from the gods, only the sword in his hand."
Tyrion's eyes flickered: "A sword has the power to decide life and death."
Varys nodded, the smile on his face gradually fading: "Since the one holding the sword truly decides our life and death, why do we pretend to acknowledge that the person sitting on the Iron Throne holds power?
For instance, this strong, sword-wielding man, why must he obey a little boy like Joffrey, or a drunken lout like his father?"
Tyrion shifted his body, leaning back in his chair, and said, "Because the little boy and the drunkard can command other strong men, and they also have swords."
Varys gazed at Tyrion: "If that's the case, are they the ones who truly hold power?
If so, where do their swords come from?
And whose words will they choose to obey?"
He paused, then smiled slightly, and continued, "Some say knowledge is power, others say power comes from the gods, and still others say power comes from law.
Yet that day, in the square of the Great Sept of Baelor, our devout High Septon, the legitimate Queen Regent, and many noble lords present were powerless against the rioting commoners.
Ever since I came to the Red Keep as Master of Whisperers, I have seen powerful individuals die for various reasons, one after another, and I have wondered who killed them.
Perhaps... could it be that those who wield power have wielded a power they could not bear?"
Tyrion said with interest, "Lord Varys, it seems you have found the answer."
Varys smiled and shook his head: "I wouldn't dare call it an answer.
The Master of Whisperers is an observer, a pair of ordinary eyes can see many things... What I see is that power exists in the human heart.
What people believe to be power, is power, no more and no less."
Tyrion reached for his wine cup and said, "Sounds like power is a trick?"
Varys also picked up his wine cup and said, "Power is like a shadow on the wall; even a small person can cast a large shadow."
Tyrion laughed: "I like you, Lord Varys."
...
...
Crab Island, Lyanna's Estate.
Greene Kleber looked at Steward Surana, who shrugged with a helpless expression.
Greene nodded slightly, then took a step and said, "Surana, let's go together."
Surana walked alongside him, saying, "My lord, Lyanna is not deliberately avoiding you; she doesn't know how to face you."
Greene raised an eyebrow and said, "My cousin wouldn't mistakenly think I'd force her to drink moon tea, would she?"
After walking a few steps in silence, Surana slowly began to speak: "My lord, forgive my presumption, but your Klaeb Territory's laws are easily feared."
Greene thought for a moment; he reconfirmed that he had not yet enacted such territory laws.
"Surana, are you saying I'm misunderstood... right?"
Surana smiled, a rare occurrence, and respectfully said, "I have experience; when pregnant, it's easy to overthink and imagine the worst."
Greene glanced at Surana walking beside him: "..., understandable."
...
In the small hall, Leanna Clayburgh, supported by Yulia, slowly sat down in a chair.
Greene glanced at her abdomen and said gently, "Cousin Lyanna, it's been a long time since we last met."
Lyanna said with slight unease, "Greene, I..."
After waiting for a moment, seeing Lyanna struggling to speak, Greene spoke up, "Why keep this child?"
He paused, then added, "We are family, you can tell me directly."
A film of mist appeared in Lyanna's eyes, and she whispered, "I don't want to get married, but I want to have my own child."
Yulia and Surana both secretly glanced at the silent Greene.
After a moment of silence, Greene said, "I understand."
He added, "This estate truly needs an heir."
...
At night, candlelight flickered in the study.
Greene's long fingers tapped lightly on the desk.
Beside it were the letters received this evening, reporting that Renly Baratheon had proclaimed himself King of the Seven Kingdoms in Bitterbridge in the Riverlands, calling himself Renly I, and his queen was Margaery Tyrell.
Greene wondered, Duke Stannis must have also received this news... If Greene weren't a transmigrator, he really wouldn't have expected Stannis to lead a mere few thousand troops directly to Storms End, intending to fight Renly's hundred thousand troops... The law... both stubborn and unyielding.
Greene's fingers paused.
He reached for the Westeros map, stood up, and spread it out on the table.
Greene first looked at the location of Storms End, then pointed his finger at the small island to the east of Crab Island—Crab Island.
Greene pinched his chin, his gaze fixed on Seagull Town in the Vale.
Greene's eyes flickered... He regretted Jon's departure; otherwise, with some training, he would have been a general capable of leading troops independently.
Greene looked at Crab Island on the map again.
Without much hesitation, he made a decision... The time was not yet ripe; he would wait for the fruit to ripen further before picking it.
Greene picked up Varys's letter... Two thousand free riders led by a Lannister sworn knight had left Casterly Rock.
Greene lowered his gaze to the map, his sight sweeping over Harrenhal and The Twins in the Riverlands.
Greene sat back in his chair... The chaos in Westeros was about to begin... The Vale... The Arryn Family cannot be allowed to remain... He needed a "killer."
...
...
Iron Islands, Pyke.
King Balon's study was as damp and airy as usual.
Asha Greyjoy's smile was quite irritating: "Good brother, your sister is a shy maiden!"
Theon Greyjoy looked at his father sitting by the brazier, his face flushed, and whispered, "Then you should never marry.
When I become king, the first thing I'll do is throw you to be a silent sister."
"What are you two talking about?"
King Balon's voice came, and Asha instantly became "serious," at least in Theon's sight.
"I intend to send you as an vanguard, Theon.
You will lead eight longships north.
Your mission is to raid Rocky Coast, plunder coastal fishing villages, and sink every ship you see.
Perhaps you can draw out a few northern lords from their stone keeps.
Euron will follow you, and Dagon.
Theon didn't even listen carefully to the rest.
He said in disbelief, "Father, are you sure you're only giving me eight ships?
What can eight ships do?"
King Balon said coldly, "I have planned everything.
You just need to listen carefully, Theon."
Theon felt as if he had been slapped hard... His father didn't trust his abilities, giving him a mere plundering task, burning fishermen's huts, raping their ugly daughters, and even for this small task, he couldn't act independently.
Wasn't this meant to sideline him, to make him a mere figurehead?
Theon clenched his fists.
...
...
Essos, Vaes Dothrak, West Port.
Creak, creak, Jon Snow, Young Griff, and Rolly stepped off the ship onto the long wooden plank.
Young Griff scanned the surroundings with great interest, then suddenly patted Jon beside him.
He laughed and said, "Hey, Jon, are you thinking about that redhead again?"
Jon smiled and replied, "Young Griff, her name is Rennel."
Young Griff shrugged somewhat helplessly: "I know, I know, I'm actually envious of you."
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