Capítulo 22: -22- A heart that longs for peace?
Gallen didn't expect to encounter important "plot characters" on his first day in King's Landing.
Gallen had a thought that there wouldn't be so many coincidences in the world. At this point, the Lannisters were still a "loving family," so was Tyrion probing for Cersei in advance?
Tyrion Lannister's announcement of treating everyone received loud cheers from the tavern crowd.
Tyrion's attendant threw a bag full of gold dragons to the tavern owner.
Gallen watched as Tyrion graciously responded to the crowd's thanks, standing tall and proud.
It was the 9th month of the year 297 in Westeros. Daenerys Targaryen, the blossoming young girl, should be residing with her brother on Essos in the mansion of the Governor of Pentos, Illyrio Mopatis.
The future Hand of the Queen, Tyrion, was lavishly spending his gold on Westeros, just enjoying life.
Life is strange enough.
Tyrion sat down opposite Gallen, and his attendant placed two empty glasses in front of Gallen and Tyrion, then filled them with wine.
Tyrion raised his glass towards Gallen, took a sip, and savored it, saying, "The Summerwine from Dorne, rich in fruity aroma, sweet on the palate, it's my favorite... "
Tyrion grinned and continued, "Each sip is like tasting the fragrance of a maiden, endless aftertaste."
Gallen smiled.
Placing his hand on his chest, Gallen nodded, "Good evening, Tyrion Lannister."
Tyrion leaned back in his chair, holding his wine glass, "Has my reputation preceded me all the way to Crackclaw Point? I'm pleasantly surprised."
Gallen took a sip of Summerwine, no longer wrinkling his brow this time, it tasted good.
"In my childhood memories, whenever I didn't want to sleep, my mother would always scare me with your name. You were the shadow of my childhood. As I grew up, I learned that it was my mother's well-intentioned lie. So, recognizing you isn't surprising to me."
"Ah, that must have been a miserable memory!"
Gallen chuckled, as if reminiscing, "My home is too far away."
Tyrion reached for a plate of roasted meat, put it in his mouth, and chewed, then asked, "Aren't you worried about the Hand of the King?"
Gallen shook his head, "Big shots don't deliberately pay attention to a small fry like me."
Tyrion raised his glass again, indicating, "When I was your age, I was only worrying about how to have my own dragon. Is inheriting the family business a bother for you?"
"My legs are too short, and my head is too big. Fortunately, this head suits me, and I know exactly what I can and cannot do with it. Jaime has his sword, King Robert has his warhammer, and I have my head... What about you, Little Lord?"
Tyrion's last tone carried a hint of contempt.
Unexpectedly, Gallen felt a hint of goodwill in Tyrion's words.
Tyrion lowered his head to drink, raised his eyes to look at Gallen, who remained indifferent.
Putting down his glass, Tyrion stared at Gallen with interest.
A faint smile played on Gallen's lips, "A heart that longs for peace? I don't think anyone would stop a heart that longs for peace."
Tyrion was surprised by Gallen's answer and paused for a moment before laughing heartily, "Yes, of course everyone would loves peace."
After laughing, Tyrion's tone became serious, "If I were you, I would do the same thing. But, young man, let me remind you, our Queen occasionally behaves recklessly, not in the usual sense. My advice to you in such situations is to bring Jaime with you. Only Jaime can advise our Queen."
"I'll remember that, Lord Tyrion."
Tyrion almost leaned his entire small body on the table, staring at Gallen, his tone becoming even more serious, "So, Lord Gallen, tell me, are you still a virgin?"
Sure enough, Gallen felt Tyrion was about to jest again.
Faced with Tyrion's already smiling face, Gallen's expression was complex as he shook his head firmly in denial.
Tyrion's laughter grew louder.
Gallen smiled while resting his chin on his hand and took another sip of the wine.
-------
The next morning, at Fishmonger's Square, in the temporary residence.
Gallen woke up, rubbing his head.
Tyrion's mind was filled with too many secrets of Westeros, and his eloquence was remarkable. Gallen listened and drank, unknowingly getting drunk.
Still feeling unsatisfied, the two of them hooked up again to listen to music, and Gallen generously threw money around.
Gallen regretted it and admonished himself, just this once.
---
---
At the Reach, Horn Hill, at sunrise.
Samwell Tarly, dragging his overly large body, breathless, sought out his father, Randyll Tarly.
Samwell Tarly was extremely obese, with dark hair and a huge round face with gray eyes.
Balding Randyll Tarly sat sternly at the dining table, having breakfast with his family. The table was quiet, with only the faint sound of utensils and whispers.
Samwell Tarly's arrival seemed to disrupt the warm meal of the family. Randyll Tarly glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and ignored Samwell's cautious gaze.
The entire table only had Randyll Tarly's youngest son, Samwell Tarly's brother, Dickon Tarly, quietly greeting Samwell.
"Father..., forgive... my intrusion. I..."
Samwell Tarly couldn't help but wipe the cold sweat from his forehead.
Bang!
Randyll Tarly set down his utensils, and the others stopped eating silently.
"You fool, if you knew it was a disturbance, why did you come at this time! Look at you, all useless fat!"
Samwell Tarly shrank back in fear.
"Weak, fat, you'll only put your face in books, always reading about achievements better than yours."
"You're about to come of age, but you're not worthy to inherit my lands and titles."
Randyll Tarly's wife, Melessa Florent, couldn't bear to listen anymore, but she didn't want to argue with her husband in front of the children, so she left indignantly to express her dissatisfaction.
The departure of his wife did have an effect. Randyll Tarly stopped humiliating Samwell Tarly.
Samwell Tarly looked guiltily at his mother's retreating figure.
Samwell Tarly was born into this family with Randyll Tarly's hope and reliance. From birth, he was burdened with too many expectations.
As the eldest son, Samwell Tarly was given too much hope by his father, Randyll.
When Sam was very young, Randyll Tarly also loved his son very much. But as Samwell grew up, Randyll Tarly found that his son was not what he had expected.
Although Randyll Tarly had spared no effort to cultivate Samwell Tarly, he seemed helpless in front of Samwell.
After this hope was gradually shattered, the straightforward and rigid Randyll Tarly became thoroughly disappointed in his son, even outright resentful.
"Father..., I... studied House Crabb's tactics."
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