Corleone ignored the guards at the entrance and strode unceremoniously into the brothel named "Hummingbird."
The interior decor was extremely luxurious; the soft carpet made not a single sound when stepped upon, and the air was filled with an elegant incense rather than the heavy scent of powder.
However, despite the unique decor, it couldn't change the fact that it was, in essence, a brothel.
In the main hall on the first floor, he could see some unsightly sights even through the curtains; presumably, the only difference between this place and the brothels outside was this layer of curtains.
Corleone shook his head, and [Majesty lv3] quietly unfolded, immediately attracting the attention of many. With his expensive attire and the dothraki guards standing behind him, people couldn't help but speculate which unknown noble family he hailed from.
Just then, a madam with fluffy red hair hurriedly came forward to greet him.
"Welcome to the Hummingbird, noble lord!"
Her voice was like honey, warm but not fawning, with a highly professional smile on her face.
Though called a madam, she was actually no more than twenty-five years old and had an excellent figure. The neckline of her deep purple silk gown was cut just right, revealing graceful collarbones and a hint of snowy white that left much to the imagination without being overly revealing.
Petyr Baelish's business mind was indeed outstanding.
Corleone glanced at her.
After all, sometimes men aren't particularly keen on complete exposure; instead, they prefer this half-hidden feeling, because when they undress them by hand, it creates a pleasure akin to unwrapping a gift.
"My name is Rose, my lord."
Seeing that Corleone ignored her, the woman was not angry and continued to patiently introduce, "It is an honor to serve you. I wonder what type of companionship you desire tonight?"
Her eye for people was also quite good; with just one look, she determined who was the one in charge.
However, Corleone didn't buy it at all and didn't respond to her greeting, walking straight toward the ornate staircase leading upstairs.
This familiar manner immediately made Rose categorize him as a veteran well-versed in such places.
Not daring to be negligent, she quickly lifted her skirt and followed him with light steps.
"My lord, there are comfortable private rooms on the second floor, and the girls are even more..."
"
She continued her enthusiastic introduction, but Corleone remained deaf to it, stepping directly onto the stairs to the third floor.
Seeing this, a hint of excitement flashed in Rose's eyes; after all, the third floor was where the top-tier guests were received and the prices were highest, meaning she could earn more money.
The environment on the third floor was more private, with doors hanging heavy curtains on both sides of the corridor; the soundproofing was excellent, and almost no sound could be heard.
Corleone's sharp gaze swept left and right as if searching for something, but in the end, he didn't see the figure he wanted to see.
Shaking his head, he pushed open an ajar door to an empty room, walked in, and sat down on a soft couch covered with velvet cushions.
"Arrange a few girls for my companion."
He looked up and instructed Rose, "Get the best ones, let him enjoy himself to the fullest."
"Yes, my lord!" Rose smiled happily; he was indeed a master who didn't lack money.
Hearing this, Yigo, who had been unable to restrain himself, had a gleam of excitement in his eyes; after all, since following Corleone, he indeed hadn't relaxed for a long time.
Soon, three women with outstanding figures and looks entered the room. Originally, Rose wanted to ask him whom he chose, but Yigo went up excitedly, hugging one on each side, indicating—I want them all!
They stepped toward another room, but Yigo still had a bit of a conscience and didn't forget Corleone.
Turning back, he asked with concern, "Won't you join us, my blood of blood?"
"In dothraki, bloodriders and Khals share everything!"
Hearing this, the corner of Corleone's mouth twitched slightly, and he waved his hand: "No need, this is your reward, enjoy yourself."
Although Yigo was also a bit puzzled, his physiological instinctual urge had already rushed to his head; with blood flowing in reverse, his brain had almost no capacity for thought.
Click...
As the door closed, only Corleone and Rose remained in the room.
Before Corleone could speak, Rose sensibly shed her dress, swaying her waist, and walked gracefully to him, her eyes brimming with desire.
After all, from any perspective, there was only one reason for Corleone to send his attendant away, and that was to be alone with her.
"It seems you aren't a natural redhead."
Corleone teased calmly.
Hearing this, Rose fell directly into Corleone's arms: "Let me help you pass this boring waiting time, my lord."
However, just as she reached out to unbutton his clothes, Corleone raised a finger and lightly pressed it against her smooth shoulder, preventing her from approaching.
Rose froze, but she saw Corleone unhurriedly take a Gold Dragon from his breast.
He didn't stuff it into her bosom like an ordinary guest, but held it between his fingers, raising it between them; the gold coin reflected an enticing luster in the soft indoor light.
"Rose, is it?"
Corleone spoke slowly: "Your service is very thoughtful, but this Gold Dragon is to ask you for another favor."
Saying so, he slapped the gold coin on the table and instructed in a gentle tone: "Go tell your boss, Lord Petyr Baelish."
"Say that the chief special agent of the small council, Vito Corleone, has a good piece of business he wants to discuss with him."
Petyr Baelish was in a very good mood.
He had just returned from The Red Keep, having used his linguistic arts to embellish and reveal the news to the Hand that the Queen of Thorns, Olenna, was preparing to have her grandson, Loras Tyrell, marry Sansa Stark.
He knew Tywin; the Lion of the West would never allow any possibility of an alliance between Highgarden and the North. This marriage was destined to be stillborn.
For many years, he had loved Sansa's mother, Catelyn Tully, which was the driving force behind all his ambition.
To climb up, he didn't hesitate to play along with her foolish and infatuated sister, Lysa, step by step using her influence to rise from the heir of a small family on Fingers to the position of master of coin in King's Landing.
Although after Tywin's return, the position of master of coin was given to his dwarf son, he was granted the title of Lord of Harrenhal.
More importantly, at the Small Council, he had already boasted that in order to win over the power of the Vale, he would go to Eyrie to persuade Lysa Tully to marry him.
That foolish woman had been infatuated with him like a dog craving a bone for years, obeying his every word, even poisoning her own husband—the former Hand and Lord of Eyrie, Jon Arryn.
As long as he proposed to marry her, Lysa would surely rush to agree; Petyr was convinced of this.
Thinking of this, a smile like a cat that had stolen cream hung on the corner of his mouth.
After marrying Lysa, he would just create an "accident" a few years later to make her disappear completely, and he would be the rightful Lord of Eyrie!
By then, Sansa Stark, who bore her mother's shadow, would completely become his caged bird.
Since he couldn't have Catelyn, he would have her daughter; how could that not be considered a victory?
Humming a tune and thinking of his wonderful future life, Petyr's steps became lighter, almost skipping.
Stepping into the front hall of the "Hummingbird," he happened to meet the red-haired madam Rose hurrying down the stairs.
"What's the hurry?"
Petyr was somewhat dissatisfied, but his usual smile remained on his lips.
This woman was from the North, but she wasn't like those coarse Northerners; on the contrary, her mind was very delicate and her brain very sharp. She had even arrived at the "Hummingbird" with great precision on her first day in King's Landing.
In just half a year, she had shown considerable ability, and her skills in bed were also quite outstanding; not a single guest was dissatisfied with her.
Therefore, she soon gained Petyr's appreciation and was "promoted" to madam.
Rebuked lightly by Petyr, Rose still moved quickly and whispered a few words in his ear.
Instantly, the relaxed and comfortable smile on Petyr's face froze.
Vito Corleone?
What did this fellow want with him?
They had only met once; previously, in order to get rid of Ralf and sever his connection with that filthy tail in Flea Bottom, he had taken the initiative to find the other party once.
Could it be just for those few thousand Gold Dragons in the Blood Cellar?
He wouldn't be that petty, would he?
Countless thoughts flashed through Petyr's mind, but his face quickly recovered that harmless, enthusiastic expression.
After all, he was just an outsider. Although he didn't know why the man had gained Tywin's appreciation and been appointed as the unheard-of "chief special agent of the small council," Petyr had painstakingly operated in King's Landing for over a decade.
There was no reason to fear him!
"I understand."
Responding faintly, he dismissed Rose and stepped up the stairs.
Arriving outside the room, he habitually straightened his well-made coat before calmly pushing open the door to this top-tier private room.
"Oh, dear Lord Special Agent, I wondered why I heard the birds chirping so happily this morning; it turns out it's because of your presence."
He put on a smile and greeted with his usual smooth tone.
Looking up, he realized there was no one else in the room; even wine and food hadn't been served. There was only a figure standing by the window with his back to him, seemingly very interested in the bustle outside Silk Street.
"Lord Petyr Baelish..."
"
Hearing his voice, Corleone finally turned his head, the light from outside the window hiding half of his face in darkness.
"Your 'Hummingbird' is indeed a fine place."
His voice was gentle, like an old friend's greeting: "Speaking of which, I must thank you for helping me solve that little trouble in Flea Bottom; it was cleaned up very thoroughly."
"You are too kind," Petyr smiled faintly.
Just as he wanted to exchange a few more professional pleasantries, he saw Corleone pacing toward him.
"I have always believed that a man has but one destiny."
His steps were steady, carrying a certain invisible pressure that made Petyr feel somewhat uncomfortable.
"From Fingers to Riverrun, from a customs officer in Gulltown to the master of coin of the realm, and then to the Lord of Harrenhal."
"Your abilities and methods are truly admirable, Lord Petyr."
While speaking, Corleone finally came to a halt in front of Petyr; the two were so close they could almost feel each other's breath.
"But...
""
"Could you explain to me why a lord of such broad mind and far-reaching ambition would be so petty as to leave me with only... a bare mess?"
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