Beneath their feet was fine wooden flooring. Golden lion banners symbolizing the family hung on the walls, and the hall was filled with gold and gold-plated furnishings. In the center of this lavishly decorated and magnificent chamber, a group of well-dressed individuals sat around a table, discussing how to respond to the greatest crisis in the history of their house.
Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West, sat at the head of the table. He was tall and broad-shouldered, already in his fifties but still as vigorous as a young man. His decisions were always swift and decisive. Since his hair had begun thinning at the crown, he had ordered the barber to shave his head entirely bald. He had also shaved the beard from his chin and around his mouth, leaving only the thick golden sideburns along his cheeks, which extended down to his jaw.
His expression was always stern, but today, there was an almost imperceptible trace of concern on his face.
…
"An ultimatum from King's Landing." Kevan Lannister, the second-in-command of the Lannister family, pulled a note from his sleeve and placed it on the table. "Robert demands that you immediately send Jaime and Cersei back to stand trial and punishment, and that you personally go to explain their crimes. If you do not comply within ten days, it will be considered an admission of treason. The Iron Throne will then declare war against us with the full support of the realm. Considering it takes at least three days to travel from Casterly Rock to King's Landing, that leaves us with five days to decide."
"Robert would not write something like this," Tywin said without even glancing at the letter on the table. "If it were him, he would have gathered his men, armed them, and marched to Casterly Rock himself."
"The Hand of the King has the authority to speak on Robert's behalf." Kevan, bald and stout, looked far less imposing than his elder brother, but no one doubted his insight or judgment. He cast a sidelong glance at his nieces and nephews seated nearby, eyes cold and expressionless, as though he were already looking at dead men. Once upon a time, Jaime and Cersei were praised as the golden twins of House Lannister. Who would have thought that these two once-proud heirs would now be the cause of the family's downfall? "Whether this letter was penned by Eddard or Robert doesn't matter. It represents the will of the Iron Throne. The only question is whether we will comply."
"What is your opinion?" Tywin did not answer directly. Instead, he looked at Kevan with his usual expressionless face and asked.
Kevan did not respond right away, not because he was hesitant, but because as their uncle, it was difficult to speak such words aloud. "Most of the houses in the Six Kingdoms have begun rallying their forces. The last war only just ended, but their armies will be ready again soon. Margaery Tyrell is about to become queen. With the Iron Throne leading the war, the Reach providing food and coin, and the other five kingdoms contributing men and supplies, we stand no chance of winning."
…
"There are no outsiders here. Speak plainly." Tywin's tone remained unchanged. "What you mean is that I should cut off my own arm to survive, personally hand over Jaime and Cersei to be executed at King's Landing, and then offer to cancel the Iron Throne's debt to the Lannisters in exchange for pardon and the chance to return safely to Casterly Rock. Is that correct?"
Kevan held his head high and said nothing. He didn't wish to speak the words himself, but he was not afraid to let Tywin say them for him. This was indeed his belief, and he was not swayed by the sharp looks his nephews and niece gave him.
"What about our allies? We've spent so much gold over the years forging bonds with other houses. Now that we're in trouble, has no one stepped forward to help?" Cersei, unable to contain her panic as she listened to her father and uncle discuss sending her off to be executed, blurted out, "Is everyone in Westeros this ungrateful?"
"Allies?" Tywin sneered. "In a time like this, they dare only to quietly send us warnings, letting us know that their lords are raising their banners and preparing for war. That alone is the most they can risk. Do you expect more?" His gaze was harsh as he scolded her, "Do you think the people of the Seven Kingdoms are as foolish as you?"
The queen—or rather, the former queen—had no strength to argue in front of her father. The commanding presence Tywin Lannister had established since their childhood was not so easily shaken. Cersei lowered her head, her voice trembling. "Then… what about our gold? Can we not buy some of the families' support, no matter the cost?"
"Who would risk their lives for gold they believe they can soon claim for themselves? Once they stand with the Iron Throne, march into the Westerlands, and crush House Lannister, all of our gold and even the gold mines will belong to them. So tell me, would you rather wait safely on the winning side to share in the spoils, or take our bribe and join us in the grave?" Tywin glared at his daughter. "If you keep your mouth shut, no one will think you're a fool. Now, let me ask you this—what were you thinking that day when you admitted the rumors to Robert's face? And you had the gall to call for Jaime to kill the king?"
Jaime, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke. "Father, there's no hope for us to win this war. Please hand over Cersei and me to save the family. This disaster was caused by the two of us. Let us bear the consequences."
…
"You think you're noble for saying this, that your willingness to sacrifice yourself makes you selfless and honorable?" Tywin stared at Jaime coldly, showing no pity despite his son's wounds still wrapped in bandages. "Do you really believe this is only about your life and your sister's life?"
"If your Father truly hands over his own children, the dignity of House Lannister—the reputation I've spent decades rebuilding—will be utterly destroyed," Kevan spoke on Tywin's behalf, his tone heavy. "The entire realm would mock us, saying, 'Tywin Lannister, for all his cruelty and ruthlessness, bows and kneels when faced with the Iron Throne.' Over the past ten years, the Lannisters have lent Robert three million gold dragons, hoping to secure your sister's position as queen, ensure that the next king would carry Lannister blood, and to bring you home to inherit Casterly Rock. If we surrender now—"
Tywin picked up where his brother left off. "I would lose my son, my daughter, the three million dragons of debt owed to us, my position as Warden of the West, and the image of strength and dominance I have spent a lifetime building. At that point, the Lannisters would be reduced to a hollow shell, ripe for the taking. Some other house would rise from the ashes, fueled by the very gold that once filled our vaults. And tell me, do you think we'll be allowed to keep even Lannisport or Casterly Rock? Would we be permitted to quietly fade into the role of some minor lord, digging gold for the new Warden of the West?"
"No," Kevan continued, his voice grim. "From the moment you ordered the destruction of House Reyne and wrote 'The Rains of Castamere,' the Lannisters have had no choice but to keep moving forward, staying strong and ruthless. You set an example with blood, and the Westerlands obeyed. But beneath that obedience is fear… and fear breeds resentment. Given the chance, they will destroy what they fear most."
"If we show weakness now," he said, "there will be no shortage of houses eager to play that song within the halls of Casterly Rock, eager to rise against the Lannisters just as they rose against the Targaryens. They will slaughter us and take everything, just to prove that those who show no mercy will receive none themselves."
"So, whether we submit to the Iron Throne or not, House Lannister is doomed either way?" Jaime clutched at his aching abdomen, finally realizing just how dire the situation was. "There's no other path forward?"
"There is a way," Tywin replied, his voice calm but firm. "If we win. If we force the other six kingdoms to kneel, the crisis will be over. But tell me—can we truly win?"
He stared at his son, unblinking. "Do you know where you went wrong?"
"It was me… and Cersei…"
"Nothing happened between you and Cersei!" Tywin slammed the table, roaring with rage. "It is a baseless rumor! And I will not repeat myself a third time!"
"Your greatest mistake," Tywin growled, "was not what happened between you and your sister. It was that after you struck, you failed to kill Robert. You didn't even bring back a prince who could have been used as leverage. If Robert had died, Eddard would have helped Stannis claim the throne. But with Stannis's inflexible nature, his hold on power would have been weak. Renly would have married into the Riverlands and risen in rebellion. The North, the Riverlands, and the Vale would support Stannis, but the Reach might back Renly. Dorne could side with either. The realm would fracture. Amidst the chaos, we could crown Joffrey Baratheon and declare that the capital would move westward. No matter how the dust settled, our power in the West would remain unshaken."
Tywin clenched his teeth. "But you showed mercy. You stabbed the king but failed to kill him. And kindness to your enemies is cruelty to yourself. Do you really think Robert will spare you out of gratitude for that?"
Just then, the door swung open with a loud bang, and a dwarf stepped into the room, facing the four core members of House Lannister.
"Uncle," Tyrion greeted with a slight bow. "Father. My dear brother and sister. How delightful to find you all still alive."
Lord Tywin did not rise. He only gave Tyrion a long, meaningful look and said, "So the rumors of your escape from King's Landing were true."
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Father," Tyrion replied, walking straight toward the table. "No need to jump up and embrace me. I wouldn't want you to hurt your back." He climbed onto a chair and casually poured himself a drink. "I'm just curious why you sent soldiers to retrieve my brother and sister, but didn't order them to search for me along the way. You forced me to take the long route home. I swear, I've never walked so much in my life. My legs are even shorter now."
"I wasn't aware you had escaped from King's Landing when I sent the men," Tywin answered coldly, ignoring his son's mockery. "Now that you're back safely, spare me the sarcasm. The family stands on the brink of disaster. You always boast of your cleverness. Let's hear your thoughts. Where were we?"
"This is the ultimatum from the Iron Throne," Kevan said, handing Tyrion the letter. "We were just discussing whether to comply."
(To be continued.)
***
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