Eagle of the Valley of Ice and Fire

The light shone through the window frame, shining on the palm of Jaime's hand.

The golden hollow carvings also had a lion's head with a bloody mouth, showing its fangs and showing off its might.

I'm afraid they will all have to be chiseled off and replaced. Jaime looked at his palm, his mind filled with these irrelevant things.

Just now he wanted to tell William that the wine bottles in the Red Castle all smelled of smoke, and the flowers and trees next to his residence were replaced with a new batch by the nosy people in the River Bay.

He wanted the morning glory of the West, not the golden rose of the River Bay.

The morning glory, he had a petal in his hand, and Jaime still remembered that the first one was picked for him by his mother from the cliff of Casterly Rock.

Mother, he just remembered that the person he dreamed about recently was not Cersei, but his mother.

The face that made him feel guilty was his mother's sad smile, not Cersei's.

If she was still there, maybe the ending would be different.

"Sir, everything is ready."

Jaime was stunned, then recovered and turned to see the neatly arranged white robes and his unique style of Kingsguard armor on the table.

The gold-rimmed decoration is the symbol of Lannister, and the white armor is the standard of the Kingsguard, the flawless white robe.

He rolled up the white robe, smoothed the folds with his palm, and nodded.

"Give it to Ser Barristan for me, William." Jaime smiled at William, who also had Lannister blond hair, put down the white robe, put on a plain dress, and walked out of the house.

"I will definitely help you find Lord Tywin's head," William Lannister murmured behind him.

Jaime just smiled and walked out of the room.

At least it was a wise choice not to live in the White Sword Tower, and he didn't have to face his sworn brother.

From the palace to the dungeon, the road was not long, only a dozen minutes away, and the maids on the road seemed to have been cleared. Only one gardener was still watering the flowers. When he saw him, he just nodded slightly and didn't approach.

There were still many Lannister triangular flags hanging in the corridor, but the air was a bit heavy at this time, and there was no wind, so the flags were not seen swaying.

Walking through the corridor and passing the bright garden, the blue-robed guards of the valley looked at him through their visors from time to time, but no one really wanted to draw their swords to subdue him.

For the first time in history, Jaime laughed at himself. People were so tolerant and indifferent to a kinslayer.

Was it Cersei's problem or his? Jaime couldn't help but wonder.

He lowered his head and walked into the dungeon.

There were not many jailers, but there were a lot more craftsmen and wall painters. Almost every wall had a craftsman tapping with a fine hammer, followed by a wall painter washing mud.

Cautious enough, Jaime walked down and found that the original entrance to the tunnel had been sealed, and several blue robes were chatting there.

The jailer walked up to him, nodded slightly, and led him to a cell with an open door. As soon as he turned his head, he smelled the smell of foie gras mixed with juice from inside, swirling in front of his nose.

A table, two wine glasses, a wine bottle, and a plate of whole chicken.

Tyrion was pulling chicken legs, mixing with sauce, and savoring the aroma and wine by himself.

Jaime was not surprised. He walked slowly into the cell. The jailer closed the door but did not lock it. After getting a nod from Tyrion, he turned and left.

"Prime Minister, don't you worry about me escaping?"

Tyrion chewed the meat and mumbled, "This delicious chicken is in front of you, eat a few pieces."

Jaime looked at his brother. The clothes on his body were low-key but never lost their luxury. The material of the dark red coat must be expensive. The golden lion of Lannister was embroidered on the lower right of the front of the coat, which was exquisite and gorgeous.

"I'm living well with Artis Arryn."

Tyrion nodded without hesitation, "Most people in the Vale are very arrogant, but they are all God-worshipping people, and most God-worshipping people are not bad people."

Jaime came over, sat at the table, tore off a leg and stuffed it into his mouth.

Tyrion slowed down his chewing speed, and he looked at Jaime's face, the scar was still hideous.

"You can actually ask the maid to help you put on makeup to cover the scar."

"No need," Jaime shook his head, "A person who kills the king and his family does not need any cover-up, and the Seven Gods will not give him the opportunity of honor."

Tyrion sighed slightly, his heart trembled, and a trace of fear crept onto his face. He was not sure about Jaime's feelings before, but now Tyrion seemed to be able to feel that Jaime was consistent in his words and deeds, and the calmness in his tone was also the tranquility in his heart.

This... is not like Jaime.

Tyrion swallowed the chicken nuggets dipped in sauce and was silent for a long time.

The silence was broken until Jaime spoke.

"I heard he executed a lot of people."

Tyrion knew he was referring to Artis, and coughed twice, trying to evade the question, "People who deserve it."

"When will it be my turn?" Jaime took a sip of wine and asked.

"Jaime." Tyrion's eyes widened, and he looked at his brother, "I think you can...can give an explanation." Tyrion couldn't sit still, and leaned forward, "Cersei must want to do something, is she in control of the wildfire, I said, she..."

"She's a lunatic." Jaime interrupted him.

Tyrion swallowed his words, clenched his fists, and sat back.

"Some small things," Tyrion held his forehead, "I have sent people to the flea pit to find my father, ahem, my father's head, it would be best if it can be brought back before the funeral." He took a deep breath, "and my father's funeral will be held tomorrow, do you want to."

Jaime looked at Tyrion, who shut up again and stood up.

"I see," Tyrion said, "Listen to me, the Wall is great, white clothes are not bad in black, there is a shortage of people there."

When he reached out to push open the prison door, Jaime's voice sounded again behind him.

"When will you return to Casterly Rock?"

Tyrion's hand froze in place, and he did not turn his head. "Probably, when everything is settled."

He pushed the door open and walked out of the cell.

Jaime stared at the plate of chicken in front of him, chewing it and losing the taste in his mouth, as if the candle broke into pieces under his teeth.

A tear slipped from the corner of his eye and dripped into the wine glass, causing a brief ripple.

Jaime raised the wine glass and drank it all.

The monks paced around the seven-pointed star main hall of the septa, and the silent sisters who served the strangers surrounded the two corpses, lowered their heads, and their faces could not be seen in their cloaks.

The low chants echoed in the huge main hall, and the voices were solemn.

"Prime Minister, Lord Tywin's head has been found." Ange said to him, holding a black cloth in his hand.

The Silent Sisters stepped forward, took the black cloth, and spread it in front of the coffin.

Bald head, thin body, these are the only features that Attis could recognize.

The eyeballs have disappeared, and the face is bloody and fleshy, and it is impossible to tell whether it is Tywin.

Two generations of Lannister made two jokes, Attis thought to himself, the laughing lion and the headless lion.

Tyrion walked over slowly, squatted down close to the head, frowned, and carefully identified it.

He forced a smile, stood up, and nodded to the Silent Sisters.

The latter said nothing, approached Tywin's body, took off the wooden head that was originally replaced, put the real head on, took out the needle and thread and scissors, and sewed and mended it.

"Will Jaime come?"

Tyrion shook his head, "He won't come," he said after a moment of silence, "At least when I went to see him, I didn't have any thoughts of suicide."

"So," Tyrion raised his head and looked at Atis beside him, "I advised him to put on black clothes on his own initiative."

"A wise choice, he is a brave man."

"Brave?"

"Choosing to live at this time is the bravest." Atis' words were emotionless, but Tyrion heard comfort in them, comfort for himself.

He nodded and sighed, "Poor Lannister"

"The Wall needs more brave people like this." Atis said suddenly.

The two said nothing more, just quietly watching the silent sisters mending.