"I'll make another bet with you after the Mountain, Blossoms, and the Hound have decided who will defeat the Kingslayer," Littlefinger chuckled.
"What? Scared?"
"I'm afraid you'll lose too badly!" Littlefinger grinned mischievously. "Your Hundred Flowers Beauty is about to be knocked off her horse, and might even die!"
Just as Lord Renly was about to retort, Littlefinger moved to Sansa Stark's side.
He was slightly shorter than Sansa. "You must be her daughter," Littlefinger said, a smile playing on his lips, though his grey-green eyes held no trace of it. "You have the Tully look."
"I am Sansa Stark," Sansa said, feeling uneasy. The man who suddenly appeared before her wore a heavy cloak with a fur collar, tied with a silver mockingbird. He had a natural and elegant aristocratic air, and his back was ramrod straight, but she didn't recognize him. She only vaguely remembered him from the banquet last night, when he was at the table of the royal courtiers: "My lady, I have no honor in meeting you."
Sister Mordan quickly came to the rescue. She was Sansa's governess and had been with the child as she grew up, like a mother to her: "Good child, this is Lord Petyr Baelish, the treasurer of the Council. Without him, we wouldn't have had so many delicious dishes at our banquet last night."
"Sister, you flatter me. Last night's delicious meal was thanks to the snow salt provided by the Mountain. His snow salt made all the dishes even more exquisite and delicious."
"Yes, thank you for Lord Gregor's snow salt. We also received Lord Gregor's snow salt gift. I have never seen salt grains as fine as sand and as white as snow before," Sister Mordan praised enthusiastically.
"Yes, Sister, I feel the same way. I think the Westerlands' snow salt will become the best-selling product in the Seven Kingdoms after the tournament." She nodded slightly to the nun, then turned her gaze to Sansa's face. "Sansa, your mother, Lady Catelyn, was once the queen of love and beauty in my heart." He took a step closer to Sansa, his elbow brushing against her body, and Sansa smelled the scent of mint in his breath.
"You inherited her hair, and those captivating eyes." He abruptly reached out and stroked a tuft of reddish-brown hair on Sansa's shoulder, then withdrew his hand, his fingertips casually brushing against Sansa's cheek. "I almost lost my life for your mother, Sansa. How is your mother?"
Sansa stepped back slightly, but the space behind her was limited, and she couldn't completely avoid Littlefinger's approach: "She's fine, my lady!" Sansa felt her heart pounding wildly.
"Oh, Duchess, you must be doing very well. Excuse me, Miss Sansa, let us cheer for the four valiant knights!" Before Sansa could answer, Littlefinger bowed slightly, nodded to Sister Mordan, then turned and walked away gracefully.
In the arena, the handsome and charming Knight of Flowers rode past the stands. When he passed Sansa, he stopped his horse, placed his hand on his left chest, and bowed to her. Sansa felt a surge of heat and quickly returned the bow, her face already flushed with embarrassment.
At the king's resounding announcement, the Mountain and Loras Tyrell arrived at their respective places and retrieved their lances. Loras Tyrell smiled and looked at his groom, who nodded in acknowledgment. Loras Tyrell felt reassured.
His groom, an experienced horse breeder, recognized that The Mountain's mount was a stallion in heat, a fatal weakness. When a stallion in heat meets a mares in heat, the mere scent can cause the stallion to lose control.
When the Knight of Flowers retrieved his gun, he discreetly switched to a mare in heat.
When a mare in heat meets a stallion in heat, the stallion will be the first to lose control and become incredibly aggressive, while the mare will become docile in the face of the male's strength.
When the Mountain's stallion goes out of control, the Mountain will reveal an opening, and with Lotte's precise spear skills, a single thrust, using the momentum of the blow, will be enough to knock the Mountain off his horse. Even if that fails, she will still be able to surpass the Mountain in spearmanship.
The two warhorses clashed. The Knight of Flowers adopted a defensive stance with his lance, waiting for the Mountain's stallion to lose control as the two warhorses drew close. The defensive stance would instantly turn into an offensive, defeating the Mountain and setting a new record!
Amidst the cheers of thousands, everyone in the King's Stand stood up, commoners and nobles alike, overwhelmingly cheering for Loki. Duke Renly waved his hands and shouted loudly.
The Mountain's offensive involved wielding his spear horizontally, allowing him to attack from all three directions. However, Loras Tyrell was cautious, using his shield and spear for a perfect defense, leaving no opening. His head-on defense was risky, given the Mountain's unparalleled strength. The Mountain could easily shatter a shield and send the Mountain flying, which is why Duke Renly was shouting for him to dodge and counterattack.
No one can withstand the Mountain's attacks in a head-on confrontation!
The clatter of hooves grew louder as the two horses drew closer. Strangely, the Demon Mountain's horse moved with a tight, unwavering rhythm. Just as the Knight of Flowers was wondering about this, suddenly, his mare leaped, her rhythm disrupted, and she lurched and lurched as she charged toward the Demon Mountain's horse. Caught off guard, the Knight of Flowers was nearly thrown off his horse. His riding skills were superb; he quickly lowered his shoulders and back, gripping the horse's back tightly with his legs to prevent falling. The defensive stance of his lance and shield instantly crumbled, leaving his chest wide open and vulnerable.
Bang!
A loud bang.
The Demon Mountain Spear thrust out, striking the Knight of Flowers squarely in the chest. The spearhead shattered, splinters flying everywhere. The Knight of Flowers groaned, flying backward as if an invisible rope had snagged his waist and pulled him into the air.
His horse had gone out of control, charging madly at Demon Mountain's horse, neighing, leaping and swaying, circling, and trying to rub against Demon Mountain's warhorse.
The Mountain thrust his spear down, piercing the neck of the unarmored mare. With a forceful push, the mare collapsed, her dying struggles sending dust flying as her hind hooves kicked up. The Mountain withdrew his spear and struck again, this time in the belly, pinning the horse to the ground. The mare ceased struggling, blood gushing from the wound on her neck.
On the sidelines, the Knight of Flowers' groom was pale with fright, his body trembling. The Mountain's horse galloped around the arena, its hands raised to receive the cheers of the crowd, but alas, the cheers were faint; everyone was worried for the elegant and charming Knight of Flowers. As the Mountain rode past the fallen Knight of Flowers, the groom realized with a start that the Mountain was not riding the stallion in heat.
The Mountain's three horses are all tall and majestic stallions. Two of them have undergone surgery to kill their libido, while the strongest and tallest, for breeding purposes, has never been castrated and is currently in heat, unable to bear the sight of mares. The Mountain rides the castrated 'castrated horse,' but has treated its body with the scent of a horse in heat. When the two horses approach, the scent is released, and the one stimulated is not the Mountain's 'castrated horse,' but rather Florence's mares.
Duke Renly, pale-faced and trembling, leaped into the arena, stumbled, and nearly fell. He staggered toward the Knight of Flowers!
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Littlefinger smiled, enjoying the Duke of Renly's 'mare out of control' panic.
He really didn't want Duke Renly to lose too badly; he wanted to easily make a small profit of one hundred gold dragons first.
Littlefinger and Crossing the Mountain were already well aware of Flora Knight's 'little trick' of using a mare to seduce the rutting stallion Win Mountain. The two were now on the same side, a secret unknown to outsiders.
Littlefinger looked at Sansa. The girl's profile was graceful and slender, with unparalleled beauty, just like Miss Catelyn running and leaping on the green grass of Riverrunner sixteen years ago.
The Knight of Flowers was carried away, and family and royal maesters arrived one after another. Duke Renly removed the knight's helmet, and the Knight of Flowers awoke. Upon seeing Duke Renly, he smiled. In truth, he was not seriously injured; he had simply had his breathing blocked by the sudden power of the Mountain.
The Mountain showed mercy and withdrew his power, because this boy and his family would be allies of the Lannisters from now on.
The Mountain versus the Knight of Flowers, the Mountain wins!
As the king shouted, the hound and the kingslayer appeared, one with a ferocious dog helmet, exuding a majestic aura; the other with a white cloak and full golden armor, displaying extraordinary heroism.