The Red Keep banquet should have been held after the martial arts tournament officially concluded, but King Robert held it early. Some joked that King Robert was beaten too badly yesterday, and his mind was muddled, mistaking yesterday's group martial arts tournament for the final martial arts tournament.
Although those nobles expressed extreme disdain for this ill-timed banquet, each of them attended in full formal attire, fearing they would be outdone in demeanor by others.
This banquet was not just a feast; it was more for the court nobles of the Red Keep and the lords, great and small, of the Seven Kingdoms to interact and exchange information.
Therefore, this banquet was not as noisy as the previous one celebrating the prince's birth, nor did it have circus performances or other entertainment. Everyone, upon arriving at the banquet, sought out the people they wanted to associate with, then gathered in small groups of three to five, conversing. This made the entire banquet very quiet.
As the host of this banquet, King Robert was not present. Only Queen Cersei sat on her throne, surrounded by a circle of noblewomen from various aristocratic families.
Several court jesters were also among them, saying who-knows-what, but one could always hear the women's laughter, which echoed through the hall, causing many to look over.
Linde was somewhat unaccustomed to such banquets. In his previous life, he was not a person who enjoyed attending banquets or parties, and now his personality was even more reclusive. Attending such a banquet made him feel inexplicably uncomfortable, especially with those nobles, great and small, constantly scrutinizing him with strange looks, as if they were examining a commodity—extremely rude. It gave him the urge to slaughter all these nobles.
So, to avoid being provoked by these fellows, after arriving at the Red Keep hall with Duke Tyrell and others, he walked away alone, picked up a wooden plate, loaded some food, and sat down in a deserted corner, quietly enjoying his meal.
However, even so, some nobles would still proactively approach Linde to converse.
Although this was a good opportunity to make connections with the influential, Linde knew very well that his current status would not be taken seriously by these powerful figures. Even if some nobles came to talk to him, it was mostly out of curiosity, as he was, after all, the martial arts champion who almost achieved a hundred kills.
These nobles would often ask overly personal questions, completely disregarding Linde's feelings, as if in their eyes, their willingness to speak with Linde was already the greatest favor, and Linde should be more humble, answering their questions honestly.
However, Linde completely ignored these nobles. He continued to focus on his food, as if these nobles didn't exist, leaving them in an awkward, difficult position. After a few such instances, those curious nobles no longer came to humiliate themselves.
However, Linde still couldn't enjoy his food in peace, because after dismissing those curious powerful figures, other nobles also approached him. But these nobles weren't there to befriend Linde, nor were they curious about his personal life; they approached Linde for only one reason: hatred.
"I am Ser Philip of Stony Sept. My brother, Barmet Philip, died by your hand yesterday," a middle-aged man with distinct Northern features walked up to Linde, his eyes filled with hatred, and said, "He died from your despicable sneak attack. He was fighting others, and you basely from behind..."
"Ser Philip, what do you hope to achieve by telling me this now? To prove your brother died heroically, or to prove I am despicable?" Linde placed the roasted meat back on the wooden plate, wiped his hands, and looked up slightly at the hate-filled middle-aged noble, saying calmly, "Instead of talking here, why not do something more practical, like loudly challenging me, and then killing me in the challenge to avenge your brother?"
Saying this, he looked at the other nobles who had gathered for the same reason and added, "The same goes for all of you. You can challenge me directly here. I can duel all of you at once. With so many of you ganging up on me, I imagine your chances of avenging your relatives should be quite high."
Linde's direct, almost impolite words left the Northern noble speechless. His face turned extremely grim, and in his eyes, besides hatred, there was a hint of fear. The other knights and nobles with similar intentions around them also showed the same expression.
Although the duel conditions Linde offered were tempting and seemed to give them a distinct advantage, each of them knew very well that, given Linde's performance in the martial arts arena yesterday, even if all of them ganged up on Linde, the ones who would die would probably be them.
For a moment, the atmosphere here became somewhat awkward. The nobles who came to demand an explanation were left hanging by Linde's words, unable to advance or retreat.
The powerful figures around them clearly noticed the commotion, but none of them intended to intervene. Instead, they seemed to be watching the show, awaiting further developments.
"What are you doing? This is the King's banquet, not some small-town party where you can do as you please." Just then, a slightly languid voice came from nearby. Then, Jaime Lannister, clad in magnificent armor, walked over, a flask in one hand and the other on his sword hilt.
Normally, Jaime Lannister's words might have caused them displeasure, but now they were more grateful, because Jaime Lannister's appearance perfectly eased the tense atmosphere, giving them a way to back down.
So, these nobles glared at Linde one by one, then turned and left. Each of them wore an arrogant expression, as if they had been the ones to challenge Linde, and Linde, out of cowardice, had refused to fight.
"A bunch of insects!" Jaime looked at the retreating backs of these nobles with disdain, then turned to Linde and said frankly, "Bear Hunter Linde, you remind me of someone."
"Who?" Linde could sense that Jaime had no ill will, so his tone softened, and he asked.
"Arthur Dayne of Dawn, Sword of the Morning," Jaime replied.
Linde was silent for a moment, then asked, "Is it Arthur Dayne who died from being ambushed?"
Hearing this, Jaime's face showed a hint of displeasure, and he said in a deep voice, "You really are an unlikable fellow!"
Jaime greatly admired Arthur Dayne, and while Linde's question was a statement of fact, it also carried a hint of looking down on Arthur Dayne. The hidden meaning in his words was simply that Arthur Dayne died from being ambushed, while I, Bear Hunter Linde, survived an ambush. This naturally displeased Jaime.
Linde looked calmly at Jaime and said, "Arthur Dayne was a hero, whom I greatly admire, but he died too needlessly, dying for someone like the Mad King is not worth it."
Hearing this, the displeasure on Jaime's face faded, and his gaze towards Linde became a bit more familiar. Clearly, Linde's disdain for the Mad King resonated with him.
"Want a swig?" Jaime offered the flask in his hand to Linde, asking.
Linde shook his head and said, "I don't drink."
"Then you're missing out on a lot of fun!" Jaime pouted, saying.
"I also advise you to drink less," Linde said bluntly, "Drinking too much, your hands will tremble uncontrollably. If a swordsman can't even control the hand that holds his sword, then he's not far from death."
Hearing Linde's words, Jaime couldn't help but be stunned, then he looked Linde over and said, "Someone else told me something similar."
Linde thought for a moment and asked, "Arthur Dayne?"
"Hmm." Jaime nodded, then gave a self-deprecating laugh and said, "It's a pity that Arthur Dayne, who didn't drink much, died, while Jaime Lannister, who loves to drink, survived. How ironic."
"Choices determine destiny," Linde said with a hint of emotion, "He chose his own death."
"No, he was killed by a sneak attack, a despicable sneak attack!" Jaime raised the flask, took a large gulp, then turned to look at the Northerners in the hall, gritting his teeth.
Linde did not refute Jaime's words, but he also disagreed with Jaime's view, because in his opinion, in a life-and-death battle, there is no such thing as despicable or not; surviving and achieving ultimate victory is what matters most.
Moreover, through this conversation, he could also see that Jaime Lannister still possessed some knightly spirit at this moment, but this knightly spirit would probably gradually fade and hide over the next decade or so. Otherwise, he wouldn't have done something like throwing Bran off the high tower. At least, the current him wouldn't be able to do it so decisively; he would definitely hesitate.
"Bear Hunter, you are a very special person." After drinking more than half of the wine in the flask, Jaime let out a somewhat rude burp, then said something out of the blue.
Linde was startled, looking at Jaime Lannister with a hint of confusion, and said, "Should I take that as a compliment, Lord Jaime?"
Jaime said with a serious expression, "No, you can take it as a prophecy, because every special person is bound to encounter various twists and turns in life. Your twists and turns have just begun."
Linde felt that Jaime's words had a hidden meaning, sounding like an insinuation.
However, Jaime did not continue, holding his flask, he turned and walked away.
Linde did not follow to press for answers, nor did he believe Jaime would respond. He himself couldn't figure out what the 'twists and turns' Jaime spoke of were, but he felt that it might not be a bad thing for him. After all, people of different statuses have different perspectives; what a person of Jaime's standing considers a setback might be different when applied to him.
Jaime's arrival and brief conversation with him did not change Linde's situation at the banquet. Instead, his calm attitude during the conversation with Jaime made people wonder if he and Jaime, the Kingslayer, were acquaintances.
One was a Kingslayer, the other a King-slayer; a perfect match. Coupled with Linde's sneak attacks in the martial arts arena, it added a hint of disdain in the eyes of some nobles who were already somewhat disgusted with Linde.
The strange glances around him did not affect Linde. House Tyrell also seemed to have noticed Linde's ostracism from the banquet, but they couldn't do much.
However, Garlan, Fotimo, and Scholar Moras found an excuse to talk with Linde, hoping to alleviate some of the awkward atmosphere for him.
However, they quickly realized that Linde did not seem to be affected by his surroundings; his mind was entirely focused on the exquisite food at the banquet. So, they relaxed and went to other noble groups to complete their respective tasks of befriending the new elites of House Baratheon.
Just as Linde finished the last piece of roasted meat on his plate and was about to get more food, a plate full of food was brought over and placed in front of him.
Linde looked up at the person in front of him. It was a bald, corpulent man with a perpetual smile on his face, dressed in a silk robe and soft leather boots that allowed him to move silently. His hands were always tucked into his sleeves, making it impossible to see what he held.
Within the Red Keep, only Varys, the Master of Whisperers for the Iron Throne, had such an appearance and attire. And this person was one of the people Linde least wanted to see.
If Littlefinger was the top schemer in the Seven Kingdoms, then Varys was the master of schemes in the Seven Kingdoms. All kinds of intelligence in the Seven Kingdoms were in the hands of this Master of Whisperers. No one knew what this man was thinking, nor did anyone know what he could do with so much intelligence. The only thing that was certain was that he absolutely could not have descendants.
Although Varys was also on Linde's list of dangerous individuals, compared to Littlefinger, with whom cooperation was impossible, Linde felt that Varys belonged to the category of people one could talk to and cooperate with, but there was a prerequisite: their goals must not conflict.
However, at this moment, Varys taking the initiative to approach him was completely unexpected by Linde and caught him off guard.
Although he was incredibly surprised, Linde's face showed no sign of it. He picked up the wooden plate Varys had placed in front of him, and while taking food from it and eating, he thanked the other party, saying, "Thank you, Lord Varys."
Varys was not surprised that Linde recognized him; after all, his appearance in the Red Keep was too distinctive, making it difficult to mistake him for anyone else.
He walked over to Linde, and, disregarding the somewhat dirty floor, sat cross-legged on the ground as crudely as Linde. He also took a piece of food from the plate and, while eating, said, "Lord Linde, you are a kind person, out of place in this hall. This shouldn't be where you stay."
"Kind?" Linde put down his food, looked at Varys, and chuckled, "Lord Varys, are you mistaken? Nearly a hundred people died by my hand yesterday."
"I am not mistaken." Varys shook his head and said, "The kindness I speak of refers to the poor little girl you saved outside the Lion Gate."
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