-23- Sincere suggestions

In order to increase credibility, Maester Ars of Whispers provided a detailed description of the battle process of House Crabb reclaiming of their old lands to the Citadel.

Maester Ars didn't intentionally leak any secrets; it was just his usual academic rigor and a bit of showing off.

The lords of Crackclaw Point were brave enough throughout the generations but lacked education.

Gallen was taught by Maester Ars from learning to read and write, and the old man enjoyed reminiscing. Now, looking back, he felt a sense of accomplishment.

Maester Ars's knowledge was rich enough, but he wasn't a general. Strictly speaking, he inadvertently leaked out some information.

Under Maester Ars's penmanship, House Crabb's tactics had an artistic feel to them. Except for a few interested individuals, most nobles of Westeros scoffed at them, thinking it was just dealing with wildlings, something they could handle too!

Samwell Tarly, Randyll's eldest son eager for his father's approval, was one of the few interested individuals.

The content described by Maester Ars, upon reaching the Citadel, would be further simplified and then sent to the "friendly" lords of Westeros by raven.

In Randyll's Horn Hill, only Samwell Tarly, who immersed himself in various readings every day, noticed. He even asked the maester of Horn Hill to request more detailed originals from the Citadel.

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Under Randyll's stern gaze, Samwell always stuttered when speaking, which only made Randyll dislike him more.

"Father..., I... studied the tactics of House Crabb."

Randyll seemed to not hear.

Samwell continued on, summoning the greatest courage he could muster to stand here and address his father voluntarily.

"I've researched a lot of information. The wildlings of Crackclaw Point are born warriors... They're not weak. Lord Gallen managed to defeat them with a small number of soldiers. He's worth paying attention to, his tactics are familiar to us..."

Renowned commander Randyll was proud, and his military achievements were indeed noteworthy.

During the War of the Usurper, the army he led caused Robert Baratheon's forces their only defeat at the Battle of Ashford.

Randyll Tarly was straightforward and rigid, but with a will of steel and shrewdness. He had been praised by Kevan Lannister as the most capable person to end the wars of Westeros after Tywin's death.

As for the battle briefs from Crackclaw Point, Randyll naturally read them. With a weak eldest son and a too young second son, he only sighed with regret that Gallen wasn't his children.

Samwell's words were interrupted by Randyll.

"So, what's the use of your research! When you meet them on the battlefield, can you defeat the Crabbs? Or do you think you're braver than those fearless wildlings? Can you still hold the sword when faced with the roar of war horses?"

"Get out of my sight."

Samwell was both fearful and anxious. He felt that there must be something wrong with House Crabb's archery, which needed to be understood in depth. Horn Hill should be informed of this information in advance, and there were more details to be advised to his father.

Samwell was suddenly drenched in sweat, as if rainwater dripped from his forehead to his chin and then dripped down.

"Get out!!"

Samwell shuddered suddenly. Under Randyll's cold gaze, the courage he had finally mustered had long since dissipated, and he hurriedly fled the dining room.

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Tyrion came again and told Gallen that the Queen was still recovering from her injuries and wouldn't see anyone until the scars on her face completely disappeared because it would affect her noble image.

After quietly sharing the "confidential" information, Tyrion took Gallen to drink.

For five consecutive days, Gallen could see Tyrion's small figure appearing in front of him every evening.

Each time, there was a reason that made it difficult for Gallen to refuse.

Gallen was very familiar with Tyrion's routine, as he had used it in his previous life.

Starting with the most sincere advice, revealing seemingly important secrets, quickly skipping the unfamiliar stage, directly narrowing the distance between the two sides, plus fine wine and beauty, and then... smoothly, the other party would have no defenses in front of you, and there would be no more secrets.

In fact, Gallen wanted to tell Tyrion that advanced hunters often appeared as prey.

Following Tyrion, Gallen experienced the extravagant life of King's Landing nobles, playing the role of an excellent lord who embodied humility, honesty, compassion, wisdom, bravery, justice, sacrifice, and honor all at once.

A serious Gallen was very frightening, as he became too immersed in the role, to the point where he even believed it himself.

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Red Keep, gardens.

Tyrion, with thick dark circles under his eyes, sat on a wooden bench, staring blankly at his nephew Tommen and niece Myrcella playing.

Tyrion reached out his small hand, caught the apple thrown to him, and took a big bite.

Jaime chuckled at Tyrion's state, sitting down beside him, watching Tommen and Myrcella with a gentle expression.

Tyrion let out a belch permeated with the smell of wine: "Jaime, I've decided. Starting tomorrow, I will stay away from all the wine, as the Seven Gods are my witness!"

Jaime chuckled: "I can't even remember how many times you've said that before."

"Well, I'm always forgetful. But I do need a few days of rest."

"You're getting along well with the little noble?"

Tyrion nodded: "At such a young age, without urgency or impatience, living in the wilderness, yet eager to learn, thirsty for knowledge, desiring but not greedy, and rarest of all, possessing a good heart."

Jaime leaned back comfortably on the bench: "Are you describing yourself? My dear brother."

Tyrion blinked, then grinned broadly: "Oh Jamie, am I that magnificent in your eyes?"

Jaime glanced at Tyrion's grinning face: "Looks like you high hopes for that little noble."

Tyrion scooted closer to Jaime, whispering: "If I were Cersei..."

Tyrion raised his chin slightly, but Jaime's attention shifted to Myrcella: "Myrcella's potential husband could be the little noble you mentioned. He's worthy. This is a..."

Jaime angrily interrupted: "Enough!"

Tyrion wasn't startled by Jaime's sudden outburst, instead, he looked puzzled: "Jaime, isn't your reaction a bit too much? You have to trust my judgment after careful consideration."

Jaime stood up and paced back and forth, gripping the hilt of his sword at his waist tightly: "Tyrion, Myrcella is still young. I don't want you to involve her in any scheming. I will keep her away from conflicts and ensure her happiness. My sword will cut through anything that reaches for her."

Tyrion blinked, seemingly digesting Jaime's current state.

Jaime regained his composure, his face slightly embarrassed. He sighed and sat back down, patting Tyrion's small shoulder: "I'm terribly sorry. I'm just... I'm too irrational for the sake of a marriage of convenience. Tyrion, I hope I haven't hurt you."

Tyrion shook his head, speaking in a low voice: "When father arranged for Cersei to marry Robert, I saw you lose your mind for the first time, the first time you argued with our beloved father. I can try to understand your feelings. I also love Myrcella. She embodies all the goodness I can imagine."

"I'm making sincere suggestions, not for the sake of so-called interests. I'm also Myrcella's uncle."

"But, I still want to remind you, my dear brother, our surname is Lannister...."

"Stop thinking about it. You know I like to joke, Jaime."

Jaime remained silent.

Jaime clenched his fists tightly, his eyebrows involuntarily furrowing.