Eagle of the Valley of Ice and Fire

"The Father's face is firm and resolute!~"

"To judge wrongs and uphold justice~~"

Sansa sat beside the queen, combing Cersei's soft golden hair through the teeth of the wooden comb, over and over again.

The songs of the Great Sept of Baelor echoed, just as her mother had taught her to sing in Winterfell, except that this time countless nuns and septs sang together, the sound was solemn and long, like the sound of a bell ringing at dusk.

She couldn't help but hum, "The Virgin Mary brings the blessing of life and protects and cares for every woman"

"Did the nuns teach you this since you were a child, Sansa?"

Cersei still closed her eyes and asked.

Sansa combed her hair and answered in an orderly manner, "Yes, Queen, even in the North where the weirwood grows, the song of the Seven Gods is still sung."

A chuckle came out of Cersei's mouth, she stood up and looked at the round mirror in front of her. Sansa's skillful hands had tied her beautiful golden hair into a beautiful and solemn and elegant bun, tightly coiled behind her head.

The queen held Sansa's hand, "What a lady's hand! Lady Stark has really taught her a good daughter."

Hearing Lady Stark's words, Sansa instinctively lowered her eyes and looked lonely.

Cersei looked at Sansa jokingly and reached out to touch her red hair.

The queen always liked to show this pitiful look, especially when facing the tragic situation of the Stark family scattered.

Sansa guessed that the reason was probably related to the strength of the Arryns in the Vale. The queen didn't like the Arryns, so she naturally showed her closeness to herself.

The hymn ended with the end of the bell, followed by the slightly cheerful tune of the troupe.

"The queen takes off her shoes, the king abandons his crown! The queen takes off his skirt, the king takes off his pants!~"

Cersei frowned in obvious displeasure and lifted the curtain to look outside.

"Little Joffrey has no memory. The troupe is still here. They were almost trampled to death by those unruly people last time!" Cersei closed the curtain angrily.

"Oh! Beautiful Queen Margaery! Oh! Kind King Joffrey, my nephew, my relative, please spare me, your beloved uncle Stannis Baratheon! ~"

The troupe's performance was actually on the road. Sansa looked at Cersei with a frown, and she couldn't help but wonder in her heart. Joffrey looked tyrannical, but not brave. Except for scolding Duke Tywin in person, everyone in the Seven Kingdoms knew about it, but that was just relying on his self-righteous personality and his mother's doting.

How could he allow the troupe to continue performing in front of him?

Cersei opened the curtain again and looked ahead. Sansa noticed that it was the carriage where Joffrey and Margaery were.

Jaime held the golden mask in his hand, staring at Cersei's carriage. The bastard Oren Waters stayed inside for a long time before walking out. He straightened his clothes and looked around carefully. After confirming that everything was correct, he walked away tremblingly.

"She slept with many people, Ser Jaime." After Kevan left, he heard Lancel say when he visited him again, "Many people, more than you think, including me. I'm sorry, Seven Gods bless you."

His weak voice spit into Jaime's ears, and the Seven Star Bible beside Lancel's bed shook the cover gently in the wind. The strong smell of herbs almost made Jaime nauseous.

He wanted to strangle Lancel to death on the bed.

But now, Jaime only hated why he didn't die in the riverlands.

He lowered his head and stared at the golden mask in his hand.

"Tywin, our father is a paranoid, Cersei? This dear sister is a complete idiot and lunatic. You must master all the secret passages in King's Landing in your own hands, so that Wildfire and King's Landing will truly belong to you."

Tyrion's words in the Alchemist Guild lingered in his ears.

He held his breath, took a deep breath, rode on his horse, and left the Queen Mother's carriage.

Tyrion was nowhere to be found. I'm afraid he had left King's Landing last night and fled to the Vale camp outside the city.

Jaime breathed a sigh of relief and glanced over. He saw the figure of the Stark girl walking into the Queen Mother's carriage.

He had no time to care about him. The White Knight and a group of sworn brothers were greeting him. Jaime looked at the scorching sun above his head, pulled the reins, and ran away.

Jaime noticed that the silver-haired bastard who had gotten into Cersei's bed was following the team, riding a warhorse and playing the harp leisurely.

The sword was faintly moving beside his waist.

Tyrion looked at the moonlight outside the window and calculated the time in his mind. Ever since he revealed his true thoughts in the Alchemist Guild, Jaime excluded him from the investigation of the wildfire and the secret passage in King's Landing.

Looking out from the window, the big bell of the Red Castle was right in his sight. The next day, the bell would ring, and a judgment without trial would be imposed on the king in the dungeon of the Red Castle.

The glass of the hourglass cracked, and the rustling sound of gravel sliding through the cracks was heard softly.

It was not far from the time agreed by Bronn. The mercenary was more sensitive to the current situation than he had imagined. The captain of the capital guard team trusted by Duke Tywin just a moment ago was about to escape from King's Landing with him and go to the Eyrie.

Tyrion returned to the desk, took a deep breath and looked at the drawings on the desk, which were stacked thickly in a corner of the desk.

He swung his calves and kicked Podrick, who was dozing against the wall. "Wake up, Pod. If we don't finish reading these blueprints and history books about the construction of King's Landing, we may not be able to bring anything to the military camp in the Vale. By then, we will really become a deformed monkey, a sleeping pig, and a cunning gibbon, three actors on stage, and we will enter the Eagle King's lair without a piece of tender meat."

He's doing this for Jaime, for Lannister, Tyrion thought to himself.

Podrick woke up in a daze and asked, "Who is the monkey and who is the pig?"

"You're a pig!" Tyrion stood on tiptoes, picked up the book cover and hit him on the forehead, and angrily directed Podrick to hold up the candle.

"Then I won't be a gibbon, right?" Bronn's voice came from outside. He stood in front of the door, his long arms folded across his chest, "You can go. After a while, the capital guard will change." Gang, you can hitch a ride on the charcoal seller’s cart and run away.”

Tyrion sighed and did not look at Bronn. He stared at the drawings on the table, hoping to find traces of the secret passage.

"You said it all," Bronn played with the dagger in his hand, "The secret passage is the secret of the Targaryen madmen. It can't be leaked so easily. Don't bother, just leave."

Tyrion stood up helplessly, reached for a rope from the bookcase, and pulled hard, "Pod, tie these things up."

"Gah! Boom!"

Podrick was holding up the rope, trying to tie up all the drawings and historical records and put them into the bag. Suddenly, there were several sharp scratches under the attic floor, like a sword blade hitting the wall.

Bronn stuffed the remaining fruit into his mouth, raised his dagger gently yet agilely, and slowly reached out toward the door.

Tyrion's eyes widened and he pointed at the bookcase. Podrick quickly reached out and took off the crossbow and loaded it with arrows.

Podrick held up the oak shield, Tyrion pressed against his back tightly, and the crossbow carefully moved toward the gap in front.

Bronn walked down the stairs and leaned out, but froze in place.

Seeing this, Tyrion rushed out, passed Podrick, and quickly pointed his crossbow at the diagonal bottom of the stairs.

The finger that was supposed to pull the trigger of the crossbow froze in place, and Tyrion opened his mouth. Like Bronn, his face was sluggish, and a touch of paleness spread quickly, driving away the sallowness and redness on his face.

Huge dog, as big as a horse

"Giant wolf! The wolf spirit in King's Landing! Many people in the city have seen it!" Podrick exclaimed behind Tyrion.

The golden eyes swayed like will-o'-the-wisps.

"Look into the beast's eyes," Bronn whispered to him, with a clear tremor in his tone.

Tyrion's hands were shaking as he held the crossbow tremblingly. The wolf had obviously not taken a bath for a long time, and the smell of blood and stench on his body hit his face. The wildness and animality contained in it almost broke half of his heart. Scared out.

The giant wolf leaned down, leaving behind a parchment scroll. In full view of everyone, he jumped out of the house and disappeared into the night like a ghost.

"How did he find us?" Bronn suppressed his frightened pale face and reached for the parchment.

Direwolf Tyrion took a breath. He confirmed the identity of this wolf. The cold air of the night shuttled between his teeth, making his teeth hurt a little more.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, I really don't know if it's a gift from the Seven Gods or if you were born with good luck." Bronn handed over the parchment.

Tyrion opened the secret passages and secret doors, just like the Virgin singing a love song in his ears.

He closed the parchment, his expression became serious, and he looked at the broken cobwebs in the stairwell, "It's time to leave the city, everyone."