Chapter 41: Tower of the Hand 2
Red Keep, Maegor's Holdfast, Queen's Chamber.
Jaime stood by the bedside, looking at the still sleeping Cersei, and couldn't help but curve his lips.
The soft silk robe, however, better accentuated the beautiful curves of the sleeping woman.
Jaime's throat bobbed, and he reached out to gently touch the top of Cersei's foot, exposed outside the quilt.
"Your Grace, good morning."
Cersei's eyelashes trembled. She stretched her long legs, her beautiful feet spreading and curling.
After a brief moment of confusion, Cersei's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Good morning, Ser Jaime. Your Queen is getting out of bed."
Cersei accepted the long robe handed over by Jaime and wrapped it around herself, sitting down before the dressing table. "Ser Jaime, do you feel different from usual today? Did I see wrong?"
Jaime's heart actually faltered, but he said calmly, "Perhaps you are in a good mood?"
Cersei glanced at Jaime and said, "Tell me, what is it?"
Jaime walked behind Cersei, placing his broad hands on Cersei's shoulders. "Princess Myrcella has always wanted me to teach her sewing. I feel today is the right time."
Cersei raised her head slightly, meeting Jaime's gaze. A smile bloomed on her face. "Alright, I promise you, Ser. For your sake, we'll go in a moment."
...
Red Keep, Tower of the Hand.
Glyn strode along at a normal pace, but in his mind, he was dissecting the recent conversation with Varys.
Varys was a scheming power player. His Little Birds were everywhere.
In Glyn's transmigration memories, Varys was the most deeply hidden power player, and he and Illyrio had great plans.
Glyn had already stepped into the game of power. He now had his own political stance.
Although Varys's words were very friendly, Glyn himself had always spoken with ulterior motives to various people, so Glyn's instinctive vigilance towards the power player's words remained.
First, it was confirmed that Varys had done beneficial work for Glyn in front of Lord Jon Arryn, and had shown Glyn friendship.
There was no unconditional friendship in the game of power. What was Varys's goal?
Glyn, as a loyal member of House Targaryen, to help House Targaryen regain the Iron Throne, was he recruiting in advance?
Glyn directly rejected this possibility. At least House Targaryen couldn't secure any "investments" without dragons.
Glyn originally thought he could develop at a leisurely pace before the plot officially unfolded, but since entering King's Landing, he felt very passive. Every small action of the adults would demand a considerable amount of Glyn's energy.
Glyn felt he had to change his mindset and proactively plan some things.
Glyn walked out of the tower and reached the second floor.
Glyn stood still, looked left and right, and saw a Goldcloak approaching him.
"Good morning, my lord, please follow me."
Glyn's eyebrows twitched, and he nodded slightly.
With its outwardly strict yet inwardly relaxed defenses, the Tower's levels seemed separate but possessed connecting channels between them. The Tower of the Hand had its own unique operational design.
The Goldcloak led Glyn to a room without any special markings and stopped.
The Goldcloak silently opened the door and stood aside. "Please enter, my lord."
Inside the study.
When Glyn entered, he saw an old man buried in a pile of documents.
Glyn walked a few steps in front of the desk and bowed respectfully. "Good morning, Lord Jon Arryn."
Lord Jon Arryn looked up from the pile of documents, his weary eyes glancing at Glyn. "I still have a little work here. I don't like being disturbed by attendants. Help yourself. Treat this as your own home. Find a seat, and there's drink in the wine cabinet."
Lord Jon Arryn seemed to be talking to someone younger, kindly and intimately.
After speaking, Lord Jon Arryn's attention returned to the pile of documents.
Glyn, however, was not accustomed to treating wine as a common refreshment to be drunk anytime, anywhere.
Glyn pulled over the stool leaning in front of the desk and sat down, closing his eyes to rest.
After quite a while, Lord Jon Arryn put down the document in his hand, stamped it with a thud, and placed it aside.
Hearing the movement, Glyn opened his eyes, and happened to meet Lord Jon Arryn's gaze.
"I am old, and not as diligent as before... I made you wait long, young lord. You are very patient."
Lord Jon Arryn was very amiable. Glyn shook his head modestly, but he became more wary in his heart.
Lord Jon Arryn leaned back against the chair and said, "As the Protector of the Vale, I am very saddened by your cousin's misfortune. Alas."
"As a token of my regret, I can help your cousin find an excellent young man, and let her start anew."
Glyn respectfully replied, "Thank you for your Lordship's kind intentions. My cousin wants to rest for a while."
"That's fine. She is still young. Tell me when she has recovered. The Vale still has many excellent young people."
Glyn placed a hand over his chest and expressed his thanks again.
"I can feel your anger. A small merchant from Seagull Town, with considerable courage, dared to insult a noble young lady."
Lord Jon Arryn paused and asked, "Did that merchant family's fresh blood appease your anger?"
Glyn seemed very confused. "Whose fresh blood?"
"The family of Oswald Meka, do you want me to remind you?"
The amiable old man's demeanor vanished.
(end of chapter)