Chapter 10
: Casten Shadow Looking North
On the walls of the Red Fort, two figures, one tall and one short, looked down at the bustling construction site below.
Several craftsmen were hammering and tinkering around a wheel that was beginning to take shape.
The reason it was called that was because it was not just a carriage, but a small palace on wheels.
The oak chassis is glossy and thick, complemented by a metal frame with gold trim. It is over ten meters long and reaches the limit of King's Road in width.
"My dear sister, are you really going to ride this gleaming golden beast all the way to the North?"
Tyrion Lannister, nicknamed "The Imp," sports an unusually large head that seems out of place with his physique, and his heterochromatic eyes, one black and one green, gleam with undisguised amusement.
He placed an oak stool under his feet so that his line of sight was just level with the top of the stack.
"By the Seven Gods, our good king has actually agreed." His voice carried its usual hoarseness and mockery.
Joffrey lay on the cold wall, adopting a affected tone.
"This is a necessary step to demonstrate the majesty of the royal family and the Lannisters." He mimicked Cersei's tone perfectly.
This amused Tyrion so much that he couldn't straighten up.
Yesterday, he arrived in King's Landing with two attendants along the Golden Road, specifically to participate in this trip.
Seeing him laughing incessantly, Joffrey curled his lip: "Anyway, Mother only makes you Lannisters pay, she doesn't touch a single penny of the national treasury."
"Father simply nodded in agreement."
"You Lannisters?" Tyrion's smile vanished. "My dear nephew, you're being quite polite."
"Lord Tywin Lannister is much more affectionate toward you than toward his own son."
"Anyone who didn't know better would think you were the heir he had high hopes for."
However, he changed the subject: "But now, that warmth is probably going to be greatly diminished."
"Your insightful remarks at the Council of Kings were relayed back to Casterly Rock by that old raven, Paisell, word for word."
"This is the first time in my life I've ever seen him... well, so emotionally expressive."
Several workers carried over some prefabricated parts and placed them next to the wheel palace.
Joffrey looked away and tilted his head.
"Is Grandpa very angry?"
"Angry?" Tyrion grinned dramatically. "More than angry, he's about to explode with rage!"
"Your grandfather dreamed of returning to King's Landing and reminding everyone who truly kept the kingdom running."
"As soon as old Jon died, he packed his bags and waited for the king's summons."
"And what happened? What did he get in return?"
"The grandson I had been waiting for finally arrived. In the imperial council, he spoke eloquently, using several irrefutable reasons to utterly shatter my daydreams!"
"Hahaha!"
Tyrion laughed so hard he almost fell off his stool.
Joffrey did not respond.
After laughing enough, Tyrion stood on tiptoe and patted Joffrey on the back.
"However, what you said isn't entirely without merit."
"Otherwise, why would I come all the way from Casterly Rock?"
Joffrey remained silent for a moment.
Below, craftsmen were still assembling the enormous wheel palace with clanging and clattering sounds, its golden frame standing out starkly against the leaden sky.
He looked at the bustling port outside the muddy gate and said with certainty.
"Your grandfather sent you."
"To be precise, it was a suggestion that I come." Tyrion rubbed his fingers together.
"He felt that even a very precocious twelve-year-old child needs an adult who understands the family's interests to give guidance from time to time."
"Instead of letting my stupid sister spoil him."
Joffrey turned around, his back to the battlements, and met Tyrion's scrutinizing gaze.
Tyrion lowered his voice.
"Your grandfather may be angry, but he understands why you did it. At least part of it was to prevent the Lannisters from becoming targets too early."
"But I know Tywin Lannister better than anyone else what kind of person he is."
"He hates it when others make decisions for him."
"Especially the children he favored, they started to have their own ideas."
Tyrion chuckled again.
"Your eldest uncle has gotten into a lot of trouble because of this. If you do this again, I'm afraid you'll make him sick."
Joffrey felt a mix of emotions, as Tywin's anger was within his expectations.
But this arrangement is both a warning and an investment.
All three second-generation members of the Lannister family's main line were sent to King's Landing.
You could say two and a half.
The dwarf, who was only half-represented, was specifically assigned to supervise him.
At that moment, a servant hurriedly ran up the city wall.
He first bowed to Joffrey, then to Tyrion.
"Your Highness, the blacksmith Tob Motto has sent someone to say that the item you ordered has been completed."
Joffrey raised an eyebrow.
So fast.
It arrived a few days earlier than he requested, so it seems that paying more money really works.
Tyrion's ears perked up instantly: "Oh, what treasure did our little prince secretly order?"
"Just a sword," Joffrey said casually, gesturing for a servant to bring it to him.
Soon, the servant ran up the city wall again, carrying a long wooden box covered with dark velvet, panting heavily.
After waving him away again, Joffrey gently opened the wooden box.
A finely crafted hand-and-a-half-sword lay quietly in the gray wool.
The blade is made of matte dark gray steel with clear and deep blood grooves, a cross-shaped guard, and a hilt wrapped in dark brown leather.
The most eye-catching feature is the counterweight ball at the tail, which is ingeniously forged into a wolf's head, with two small agates inlaid in the wolf's eyes, making it not luxurious, but exuding a wild and fierce aura.
Tyrion leaned closer and gently touched it with his fingers.
"Wow..." he whistled, looking up at Joffrey. "This isn't like you."
"Let me guess, is this a gift for that little Stark cub?"
Joffrey didn't answer directly. He reached out and gripped the hilt of his sword, swinging it twice to produce a low, whistling sound.
Tyrion took two steps back.
"Be careful, this isn't a practice blunt sword, it can kill you if you get stabbed."
After trying it, Joffrey put the sword back and closed the lid.
Winterfell was a thousand miles away and a poor place, so he had little interest in it.
Being able to win them over can save a lot of trouble.
"I've heard that the Starks prefer practical and sincere gifts to flashy gold."
"Besides, it's always better to have one more friend than one more enemy, especially in the North. Uncle, what do you think?"
Tyrion stared at him for several seconds, then suddenly burst into laughter.
"If your grandfather hadn't turned back to Casterly Rock halfway and had come to see you in person, he might have been less angry."
He kicked the wooden stool under his feet, gesturing for Joffrey to sit down and talk.
"It seems you've been planning to head north for a while now."
"And since I, as your uncle, am your advisor, could you perhaps give me a heads-up?"