iron throne of ice and fire

Chapter 631 The Kind Dwarf

Just as Tyrion was about to gracefully express his humility, a sudden gust of cold wind whipped up snowflakes and pelted his face.

The dwarf looked comical and pathetic, which made Melisandre burst into laughter.

Tyrion shrugged, bent down and extended his hand, a smile on his face, and said, "Please allow me to continue to serve you."

After walking a few steps, Tyrion narrowed his eyes at the group of figures in front of the city gate, then suddenly lowered his voice and said, "Charming Lady, did the Lord of Light... give you any subtle hints?"

Melisandre slowed her pace slightly, turned her head to look down at the dwarf with a fawning expression, and gently curled the corners of her lips: "For example?"

Tyrion instinctively glanced around: "Is this trip safe?"

"Oh?"

Melisandre's smile deepened: "Have you sensed danger?"

Tyrion moved closer to her, lowering his voice even further: "That king is a capricious tyrant..."

Melisandre interrupted the dwarf's slander with laughter, and she said with amusement, "Should I thank you for reminding me, honest little lion?"

Tyrion grinned. "Actually, I'm just a lowly dwarf. And I'm very afraid of dying."

A few dozen yards from the city gate, Melisandre stopped. She glanced at Tyrion and said in a low, husky voice, "Are you worried about being implicated because of me?"

Faced with Melisandre's affirmative tone, Tyrion met her fiery red eyes and nodded honestly.

Then, he chuckled and said, "I was worried that the Seven Gods and the King of Light, those two old folks, would have a falling out, and I'm just a dwarf born of a curse, and..."

Tyrion coughed softly, straightened his small frame, and continued, "...Please allow me to reintroduce myself. Before I left King's Landing, I was a member of the Clayber Legion, personally appointed by the great King Grin."

While Melisandre was still pondering the reason for Tyrion's sudden "change of attitude," a figure emerged from the crowd waiting in front of the city gate, and she quickly spotted him.

Both of them wore scarlet robes, and as the cold wind howled past, they looked like two flames.

Ignoring the little dwarf beside her, Melisandre slowly took steps toward the figure.

They stopped almost simultaneously, a few steps apart.

"Priestess Melisandre".

It was the Red Priestess Marchiro, who now plays for Green, who was the first to call her.

However, he turned and left without waiting for Melisandre's response, as if he had only appeared to say hello.

Tyrion limped over, looked around curiously, and asked, "You two know each other?"

Melisandre paused, her red eyes flickering slightly: "He is a red priest of the Temple of Rahlo, named Machiro."

Tyrion knew something about the Temple of R'hllor across the fjord. As far as he knew, in addition to the children they normally adopted, they also bought slave children and raised them to become temple priests, temple maidens, and temple warriors, all collectively known as—Slaves of R'hllor.

The slaves of Rahlo all have tattoos on their faces, while the red-robed monks who are of Rahlo origin have flame tattoos on their faces.

The priest Machiro whom Tyrion had just seen had crimson flame tattoos covering his cheeks and forehead, clearly indicating that he had once been a slave of R'hllor.

Tyrion glanced at Melisandre's flawless, beautiful face and forehead out of the corner of his eye, and couldn't help but wonder what role she would play in the Temple of R'hllor.
On the surface, Melisandre and Marchio are acquaintances, but not close...

Thinking this, Tyrion said with a smile, "He is the third red priest I have ever seen. Aha, the Lord of Light's business in this land is becoming more and more prosperous. I mean the Seven Kingdoms of the Seven Gods."

Melisandre's eyes, burning like flames, were fixed on Tyrion's smiling face. After a pause, she chuckled softly, "Thanks for the reminder..."

She slowly leaned down and placed a light kiss on his forehead, which was covered by messy hair: "...kind little lion."

Melisandre's beautiful body always exuded a magical heat, which Tyrion felt even more strongly at this moment.

He put his small hands behind his back and smiled slightly at her: "Madam, I'm doing this for myself too."

Despite his dwarf stature, Tyrion believed himself to be a lion with a sufficiently sharp mind…

Every night at the Wall is lonely, and the longer it goes on, the lonelier it becomes. To avoid becoming a bitter, resentful woman, Tyrion reminisces about the past every night…

Sometimes, I imagine myself as tall and strong as James...

The night on the Great Wall was long enough. After "remembering" his loving family, he began to idly recall all the things and people he had experienced.

Of course, this certainly includes the current kings of the seven kingdoms, although they are listed last...

To be honest, Green Clayber was a past he didn't want to recall. Green had manipulated seven nations, including this self-proclaimed brilliant dwarf.

In retrospect, he wondered... what if he had discovered Green's "plot" earlier?
Later, his calculations became even more disheartening; his situation would not improve at all, and he was very likely to be silenced by Green...

Perhaps, with a rational analysis, Green actually gave him a more promising "future".

……

When Tyrion and Melisandre approached the city gate, Ser Mandon Moore, the Kingsguard who was standing at the forefront to greet them, finally stepped forward to welcome them.

"Good day, Sir Moore."

This Kingsguard was an old acquaintance of Tyrion's. He had a pair of seemingly lifeless light gray eyes, and Tyrion thought his white robes looked like a shroud.

Ser Mandon did not respond, but Tyrion remained unfazed, casually asking, "Where is Bronn?"

Sir Manden's eyes finally twitched slightly: "His Majesty ordered him to teach Miss Arya swordsmanship."

Did the mercenaries betray us so quickly?

“Oh? That’s a great job. I really envy Bronn.”

Tyrion chuckled, then raised an eyebrow: "Lead the way, sir?"

Sir Manden glanced at the two of them again, then with a flick of his white cloak that seemed to blend into the snowy landscape, he turned and strode away.

Tyrion shrugged and gracefully extended a hand forward: “Charming lady, please.”

Winterfell was so vast that on his way to meet the king, Tyrion saw many, many onlookers, including the passionate and bold girls of the North who were very curious about what the little devil's... well, you can't believe their gazes.

Of course, he was also spared the hateful gazes he was familiar with. He had to thank Cersei and Joffrey, and be thankful that Grimm had secretly rescued the Duke of Winterfell.

Otherwise, his fate upon entering Winterfell would certainly have been to become a roasted dwarf or a headless dwarf.

After passing through numerous guards, Tyrion, whose legs were aching from walking, finally entered the temporary palace that House Stark had arranged for the king.

As he ascended the steps, Tyrion encountered the most elite Clyberian soldiers and an excessively young Vale knight.

Tyrion also saw many family crests from the Stormlands, the Riverlands, and the Old Kingdoms; in a short distance, he suspected he had toured all seven kingdoms.

The King met with him and her in the study, Sir Manden told him.

As they neared their destination, Tyrion paused slightly, noticing the family crests of the Westerlands. These young men were knights' squires.

This world changes so fast...

Their eyes met briefly, and they avoided each other like the plague. Tyrion, a member of the once-ruling family of the Westerlands, smiled slightly and continued to limp behind Ser Mandon.

Upon arriving at the study, Tyrion encountered an old acquaintance—Brenée of Tarth, a strong and loyal female knight.

He greeted him again, saying, "Sir Tass, it's been a long time."

Tyrion's gaze swept over her white robes, and he couldn't help but sigh. He had witnessed the first female Kingsguard in the history of the Seven Kingdoms, and the feeling of witnessing history... was not bad.

Ser Brienne looked over expressionlessly, her gaze lingering on Melisandre for a moment before she said, "Please come in, His Majesty the King is waiting for you."

(End of this chapter)