It was completely dark.
However, Kingslayer, who led the army, and Kevan Lannister were fiercely debating on the light screen.
Littlefinger watched with cold eyes.
"The enemy is completely unprepared. What a great opportunity. Just start the cannons and the whole army charges to annihilate them completely!" Ser Symond Templeton, a knight from Nine Stars City in the Vale, suggested.
His image was displayed on the light screen.
Just like the real person, his expression was cold, he had a pointed nose, ice-blue eyes, and a mustache that was even darker and more pointed than Littlefinger's own, like a raptor staring at its prey.
Littlefinger was no stranger to the people of the Vale.
Although Riverrun in the Riverlands held most of his beautiful or painful deep memories, he knew that he never belonged there.
He was Petyr of House Baelish.
He was born on his family's land – the smallest "Littlefinger" of the Fingers in the Vale, where he spent his ignorant childhood.
Desolate rocky coasts, howling winds, goats on rugged giant rocks, scattered herders.
This was all he saw after opening his eyes.
How sad. Before leaving that rocky area, he naively thought that the whole world was pretty much like this, and even thought his father was some great figure.
With the arrogance and ignorance unique to children, he gradually became familiar with, accepted, and became accustomed to this environment.
Desolate rocks, bleak storms.
This was all he should have had. And he should have been grateful and extremely satisfied.
After all, his great-grandfather was just a sellsword from Braavos, who served House Corbray in the Vale his entire life and never advanced further until his death.
It wasn't until the next generation – Petyr's grandfather – that House Baelish was finally granted a knighthood without land.
The family sigil, a Titan's head, was decided at this time. But Petyr didn't like the Titan, even though it was a man-made miracle that Braavos was proud of.
In fact, this often revealed House Baelish's status as outsiders and their low bloodline, making them even more despised.
Later on.
Perhaps the Gods took pity, but by the time of his father, House Baelish's luck finally turned.
Not only did his father perform meritorious deeds during the War of the Ninepenny Kings, being granted the current land and title, but he also formed a friendship with Duke Hoster Tully of Riverrun, who fought alongside him.
Petyr was therefore fortunate enough to be sent to Riverrun as a foster son.
This was also the beginning of all stories.
Petyr Baelish still remembered clearly. After receiving Duke Hoster Tully's positive reply, his father's face was filled with undisguised joy and pride, and every sound he uttered was overflowing with anticipation and hope.
At that time, Petyr was not yet able to understand his father's reaction. His heart was only filled with longing and curiosity about the outside world.
His father's reaction was even more urgent than his.
At that time, the conditions in the Narrow Sea were bad, with news of storms and shipwrecks constantly coming in, and many voyages were canceled by ship owners. His father immediately made a decision: travel to Riverrun by land, starting that very day.
His father personally escorted him west.
He was full of anticipation.
But everything he experienced along the way shattered all his previous perceptions, and then reshaped them into a distorted, condescending world.
The first stop of the journey was Longbow Hall of House Hunter.
Here, Petyr first experienced intense malice from others.
Lord Iain Hunter of Longbow Hall and his sons spoke mockingly, acted frivolously, and the contempt on their faces was palpable even to him as a child.
It was even worse during the meal.
On the Hunters' table were sizzling roasted meat, steaming meat porridge and thick soup, various pies, cakes, desserts, and fruits.
Before Petyr and his father, there was only dry, hard black bread and smelly blue cheese.
Although the food at home wasn't much better than this.
But Petyr could certainly see the huge difference in treatment between the two groups of people.
He felt wronged and wanted to cry.
What shocked, angered, and even disappointed and pained him even more was that his father not only didn't flare up on the spot and punish these bad guys, but instead said nothing and sat there chuckling foolishly!
Petyr had seen this kind of smile before.
The smiles of the humble commoners who came to the castle to pay taxes or request arbitration looked like this. Only to please the lord, beg for forgiveness or rewards.
Why would his father smile like this?!
Petyr's pale little face turned red, and he was about to get up and shout at the bad guys, but his left wrist was tightly held by his father under the table.
His father's strength was so great that for a moment he forgot the humiliation in the pain.
Gerwood Hunter, the eldest son of the Lord of Longbow Hall, very enthusiastically helped him remember everything.
At that time, Gerwood Hunter was in his early twenties, but he was already as stupid and annoying as he is now. He sang clumsy songs that were out of tune, weaving the origins of House Baelish and his father's subservient flattery into the lyrics.
The lyrics were not hidden at all, and anyone who could understand the Common Tongue of Westeros could understand their meaning.
His father remained unmoved.
Petyr almost buried his head in his plate. He didn't dare meet anyone's eyes again, afraid of seeing contempt and ridicule in them.
It was as if all the servants in the hall were killing him with their stares.
The him who was full of childish fantasies had his throat squeezed. He wasn't completely dead yet, but he only lived a few more days.
The journey continued.
In the wilderness, his father told him that their family's territory and title weren't outstanding in the Vale, and when faced with the difficulties from great lords, they had to learn to endure and smile.
Then his father became even more silent, focused on rushing to Riverrun.
Petyr later learned that their piece of the "Fingers" had originally belonged to House Hunter, and it was only because of his father's military achievements and House Hunter's losses that this "Fingers" changed hands.
He also understood that his father's choice wasn't wrong, just helpless.
But at the time, he hadn't grown up yet, still dwelling on the unfair treatment at Longbow Hall, his mood low, as if the whole world had dimmed a few shades.
By the time he saw the towering white Eyrie, the endlessly stretching mountains and valleys, and the Kingsroad bustling with carriages and horses, he no longer had his initial innocent smile. Instead, he was filled with inferiority, worry, and confusion.
Until he arrived at Riverrun.
Catelyn, Lysa, and Edmure Tully became his playmates. The few of them grew up together, and their laughter and joy gradually led Petyr out of the shadows, looking forward to the future.
He truly loved Catelyn.
Damn the Starks! Stuffy Old Hoster!
Catelyn was going to be sent to the cold Winterfell. Marry an arrogant and rude Stark?!
He finally mustered the courage to fight back, only to receive a long scar and punishment from Riverrun. He was "exiled" back to the Fingers.
Lysa also married Jon Arryn.
Petyr's future seemed already decided: a insignificant lord with no glory, living in fear, sorrow, and resentment, quietly dying.
He would never allow this.
Starting as the Tax Collector in Gulltown, a major town in the Vale, he returned to the stage, climbing step by step, and eventually became a significant figure in the court.
But this was far from enough.
Moreover, he was now back at the starting point, with neither title nor position.
How to return to the top fastest?
Littlefinger quietly watched the familiar faces in the light screen.
The Vale was not unfamiliar to him.
"Yes, it's like a forest hunt, easy and comfortable, with a rich harvest," echoed Ser Donnel Waynwood, the second son of Ironoaks.
Littlefinger smiled subtly.
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