"If you ask me, that bastard must have had his brains frozen off in Winterfell or at the Wall. A Lordship! Imagine that!"
In the taverns of King's Landing, the story of Jon abandoning his Lordship and fleeing King's Landing simply to avoid fratricide had already become a hot topic. Not only in the taverns, but among peddlers, in the streets and alleys, and at high-society gatherings of court nobles, Jon's affairs were being discussed almost universally.
The speaker was a thin, small man around thirty years old, who was currently loudly proclaiming that Jon was a complete fool.
If he were made Lord, it would definitely be more suitable.
"How can someone who doesn't even dare to dream succeed? If Harrenhal were handed over to me—"
"Handed over to you how?" A muffled voice sounded behind the man. "If it were me, I would definitely manage Harrenhal well for His Majesty Stannis. First, I would intermarry with the Frey Family, and then fight Riverrun. That way, what face would Robb have left to call himself the Lord of the Trident?" The man speaking continued to babble on, promoting his daydream, completely oblivious to the fact that the surrounding onlookers had all fallen silent.
Just as he was about to continue, he suddenly felt his body lift, and he was hoisted up by the back of his neck.
"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey—" The slightly tipsy man flailed his arms and legs, looking exactly like an insect that had been pinched up.
"Put me down! You brute! Do you know who I am! Put me down!" The thin, small man only had to turn his head to sober up considerably.
He saw a man whose face was half covered in burn scars staring coldly at him. The scarred half of his face didn't even have an ear, only a black hole, and the skin around his eye looked like hard scabs.
If the man's appearance was merely terrifying, the bulging muscles and the armor he wore unequivocally revealed his identity.
"L-l-l-l-lord, I-I-I-I-I—" The man realized he must have said something he shouldn't have, and his first instinct was to beg for mercy.
But being dangled by the muscular Sandor, he was too nervous to speak.
Sandor snorted, carried him by his collar to the tavern entrance, and then tossed him with a fierce swing, dropping him right into the middle of the main road.
The thin, small man landed face-first in a heap, but he didn't dare utter a single peep, tucking his tail between his legs and scurrying into a small alley.
Watching the man's miserable figure, Sandor sneered, then looked toward the Red Keep.
He thought that Jon would now surely not want to return to the Wall, and he would be able to stay by his side and serve him.
The discussions about Jon within King's Landing were extremely heated, which surprised many people.
And the driving force behind this was none other than Varys.
Varys had already learned that Stannis had prepared two options for Jon.
One was to become the Lord of Harrenhal, and the other was to become the lord of casterly rock.
Although the latter was better than the former, it required Jon to seize it himself, making it a hot potato.
Moreover, he knew that Stannis planned to have Margaery marry Jon, which would both punish and restrict the Tyrell Family while also serving as a reward for Jon—a move that achieved two goals at once.
From Varys's perspective, it would be best if Margaery could marry Little Aegon, but many conditions on Little Aegon's side were not yet mature, and this had only been the optimal choice before Daenerys hatched her Dragon.
But now that Daenerys had hatched her Dragon, he and his allies planned to unite Little Aegon and Daenerys, returning to Westeros with the Dragon and an army to seize the iron throne in one fell swoop.
However, their army was truly limited, and if Stannis and Tywin were to negotiate peace, this was something they did not wish to see.
It would be best to let Jon lead the Tyrell army to conquer the Westerlands and Casterly Rock. The Tyrell Family was, in fact, more inclined toward the Targaryen Family, which would indirectly tie Jon to Little Aegon's war efforts.
Therefore, Varys was also secretly working through his own efforts to push Jon to become the lord of casterly rock.
At this time, Jon, who had just been "brought back," was idle, instructing Arya's sword fighting in the courtyard. Sansa watched intently from the side, looking eager to try it herself.
Just then, Robb Frey suddenly ran up to Jon to report, "My Lord, someone wishes to see you."
"Who is it?"
"He only said one word:'secret passage.' He said you would naturally go see him after hearing it."
"Varys." Jon immediately thought of the Master of Whisperers.
Just as he was about to leave, Arya and Sansa said in unison, "Jon, where are you going?" Although it wasn't obvious normally, the moment Jon left the sisters' sight, both felt like young beasts abandoned in the jungle, lacking any sense of security.
"I'm just meeting someone by the door. I won't go far, I'll be right back."
Under the moonlight, Jon saw Varys dressed in black plain clothes. Gone was his usual scent of perfume; the man now even smelled faintly of sweat, and the hem of his clothes was stained with dirt, suggesting he had gone to considerable trouble to meet him.
"I must congratulate you, My Lord, the lord of casterly rock." Varys smiled, his tone even carrying a hint of respect.
Jon looked at Varys but said nothing.
Varys looked directly into Jon's eyes and said, "Lord Jon, let me be frank. You have always acted like a Saint, but based on my observation, you are truly a Great Master at controlling people's hearts. I would very much like to cooperate with a man like you."
Jon thought for a moment and immediately understood how Varys had figured it out.
"Because I didn't tell His Majesty Stannis what you told me?"
"Your wisdom is flawless, My Lord." Varys smiled and said, "Your strategy of retreating to advance is the greatest manipulation I have ever witnessed in my life."
"Then I thank you for your praise. Since you have seen through my true nature and have actively sought me out to cooperate, why don't you tell me what you want?" Although Jon already knew Varys's hidden agenda, he wanted to see if he would proactively reveal it.
Of course, it didn't matter whether he spoke or not; by asking proactively, he was actually avoiding Varys's suspicion and masking the fact that he knew his true intentions.
Varys merely shrugged and said, "What aspirations could a man like me possibly have? To remain by the King's side, make a few more friends, and maintain a decent life—"
"You are not telling the truth." Jon cut him off directly. "With the wealth you have accumulated over the years, you could easily go to the Free Cities or Braavos and live as a rich man. I imagine that would be decent enough, and you wouldn't have to be trapped in the vortex of power."
"Heh heh, My Lord is right. I do indeed have higher aspirations, and to continue rambling on would be disrespectful to you. But if you can accept it, please allow me to keep it confidential for now. Of course, by staying in King's Landing, I can provide you with the intelligence you desire. In the future, you will only need to lend a helping hand as a friend." Varys believed he had seen through the true nature of the "clever ambitious man" before him, so he spoke with considerable confidence.
"Deal. Perhaps our goals might even align in the future." Jon cracked a small joke.
He thought of the Dragon eggs he had found. If one day Varys painstakingly brought Little Aegon to Westeros, only to find that Jon was already raising Dragons on the other side of the continent, what would Varys, this "Blackfyre Bloodline," think?
Varys let out a soft, unmanly giggle. "Perhaps."
In the shadows beneath the moonlight, the two men temporarily reached an agreement.
"My Lord, I didn't come empty-handed this time. I brought you a small gift."
"Please speak." Jon said, assuming that the gift Varys brought him was intelligence.
"Tywin is mobilizing the strength of the entire Westerlands, preparing to consolidate the passes and hold the region independently. As you know, the current power of His Majesty Stannis is likely insufficient to suppress the Westerlands, so the possibility of a peace negotiation is not small. However, you know the King's temperament; he will never let Tywin off the hook. The Tyrell army combined with your martial prowess and strategy is the perfect Sharp Weapon to suppress the Westerlands. If you can conquer the Westerlands and capture Casterly Rock, then Casterly Rock will be yours, free from any suspicion or constraints. From the perspective of power, you would be the next King of the Rock!" Varys's voice carried a hint of temptation; he was indeed a master persuader.
However, Jon spotted a blind spot, and he said, "You seem very confident that I can conquer the Westerlands? Perhaps attacking the Westerlands is within my capabilities, but Casterly Rock—forgive me, but I haven't thought of a good way to take it yet."
In fact, Jon had an immature idea, but of course, he couldn't reveal it now.
"Our Your Majesty has already thought of that point for you. Melisandre might be able to help you."
Jon didn't need Varys to elaborate; he knew Stannis had developed a "path dependence."
He had used Melisandre's magic and deployed a Shadow Assassin to deal with Renly and take Storms End. Did he intend to use a Shadow Assassin to help him?
Once he reached Casterly Rock, Melisandre would "give birth" to a Shadow Assassin, which would sneak into Casterly Rock and kill Tywin with one strike.
If that were the case, then Stannis was a man he could trust!
But the problem was that Jon remembered Tywin was not the only Lannister Family member in Casterly Rock. Even if Tywin died, the other Lannister Family members might not necessarily surrender.
However, there was no need to think that far ahead now. Jon expressed his gratitude for Varys's intelligence.
"Alright, Lord Jon, we have talked long enough, and I have found this process very pleasant." Varys read the light in Jon's eyes, knowing he had guessed the truth, and spoke with satisfaction.
Moreover, his tone revealed the pleasure of encountering an intelligent person, unlike the stubborn Eddard he had met last time.
If he had been wary of Littlefinger and acted sooner, he wouldn't have met such a tragic end.
After seeing Varys off, Jon returned to the small courtyard.
Sansa was now surprisingly holding a wooden sword and trying to swing it, suggesting that the "King's Landing coup" had left her with considerable psychological trauma.
However, instead of learning political maneuvering alongside Littlefinger, she was now imitating Arya and learning martial arts.
"Sansa."
"Ah!" Sansa cried out in surprise, hastily hiding the wooden sword behind her back, looking a little embarrassed.
"Learning some martial arts is a good choice; at least it will make your body healthier. But the most sensible way to face danger is not to fight it, but to foresee it and avoid it. Using a sword is the choice of last resort. Do you remember that?"
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