However, as he rode his horse and looked up at the Gold Cloaks peeking out from the city walls, a sense of absurdity welled up in his heart.
Five hundred Lannister cavalry followed behind him, and the banners also bore the golden lion of Lannister, but the defenders on the walls did not seem to intend to open the gates, nor did they show any signs of preparing to attack; not even a single person came to question them.
"I am Tyrion Lannister, the Queen Regent's brother," he shouted toward the wall. "Let Cersei come out to see me."
But it was a long time before the city gate slowly opened a crack, and the commander of the gate guard ran over, accompanied by a soldier wearing Lannister armor.
"Welcome to King's Landing, Lord Tyrion." The leading Gold Cloak commander barely managed an awkward smile; the expression looked worse than crying.
Tyrion ignored him and spurred his horse to lead the army into the city, but in his heart, he had already sentenced this commander to death. After all, the man clearly recognized him, having even drunk with him in the same brothel before; it was clear he was derelict in his duty.
The city gates were thrown wide open, and a dozen Gold Cloaks lined up on both sides, but the looks the soldiers gave him held no awe, only curiosity and a hint of undisguised contempt—a noble dwarf.
Tyrion had long been accustomed to such gazes. He passed through the gate expressionless, his horse's hooves making dull thuds on the dirty, muddy road inside the city.
The streets on both sides were already crowded with commoners watching the commotion, as this was the first time outsiders had entered the city in days. Some whispered, others pointed, and children hid behind their mothers, asking aloud, "Mom, why is that man so short?"
"Because the gods like to play jokes," Tyrion couldn't help but answer in his heart. He looked at the child with a polite smile, which startled the child's mother, who hurriedly pulled the child away into the crowd.
"Even worse than I imagined," Tyrion muttered to himself, looking at the sallow and emaciated crowd around him.
The Lannister soldier who opened the gate heard this and whispered, "My lord, the city has been in chaos for days. After the news of the Targaryen landing spread, the wealthy merchants and nobles took their supplies and fled, and the rest..."
He didn't finish, but the meaning was clear.
By the time they passed through the Street of Steel and crossed Rhaenys's Hill, the silhouette of Red Keep gradually became clear. He looked up toward Red Keep, the massive castle standing atop Aegon's High Hill.
He remembered the last time he came here, it was to accompany Tywin to attend Joffrey's name day celebration, but back then he only hid in a brothel, drinking and having fun.
He hadn't expected that he would now become the hand of the king.
The Seven really played quite a big joke.
In the Great Hall of Red Keep, Cersei was already sitting there waiting for him.
She wore a black gown, her long golden hair cascading behind her. Her face remained beautiful—at least more beautiful than any woman Tyrion had ever been with—but Tyrion could see the exhaustion and a trace of fear in her eyes.
Jaime stood behind her, in white cloak and golden armor, looking at him with a smile, but because Cersei did not like him getting close to Tyrion, he could only nod at him.
"Dearest sister." Tyrion walked quickly, limping as he climbed the steps, and opened his arms. "Your favorite brother has arrived."
Cersei did not move, only looking at him coldly, her green eyes filled with undisguised disgust.
Tyrion had no choice but to smile self-deprecatingly and lower his hands. When he walked up to her, he said, "Father sent me to oversee the defense of King's Landing. What, sister, do you not welcome your brother?"
"Father sent you to oversee the defense of King's Landing?" Cersei suddenly shouted in a sharp voice. "Is he mad?"
"Perhaps." Tyrion shrugged, then produced the hand of the king pin. "But I dare not disobey his orders. Now, as the acting hand of the king, I need to inspect our city defenses. Look, for a dwarf like me, not even having a moment to rest, what a laborious life it is."
After speaking, he passed Cersei and walked straight out of the hall. Behind him, Jaime followed, bending down to put an arm around him, and whispered, "Tyrion, don't take it to heart, Cersei has been like this lately because of the Targaryen business..."
"I know, my dear brother, we have always been like this, I am used to it." Tyrion interrupted him, then turned his head, looking into Jaime's green eyes, which were just like Cersei's, and suddenly asked, "Jaime, did Father ask you to return to the Westerlands?"
Jaime's expression changed, and he asked nervously, "How did you know?" Just two nights ago, Grand Maester Pycelle had personally delivered a letter to him; it was Tywin telling him to go to Casterly Rock to defend against Robb leading an army to attack the city.
"I guessed," Tyrion said, his tone a bit sad. "Father needs someone to help him, and I am already here; he wouldn't leave two heirs in King's Landing waiting to die."
Jaime lowered his head and said nothing.
Tyrion patted his arm, but for Jaime, this action only reached his waist. "It's alright, go ahead without worry. You can leave this to me; I will help you protect Cersei."
After saying this, Tyrion and Jaime began to inspect the city defenses, but the result was even worse than he had expected.
The walls of King's Landing were high and thick enough, but that only applied to the section facing Blackwater Bay, where the terrain provided an advantage. As for the gates near the land, the walls looked much lower, and in some places, the stones had even begun to loosen.
Even worse were the defensive armaments; there were fewer than a hundred scorpion crossbows in total, and less than half were in working order; the rest were so rusted they couldn't even turn. There were plenty of bolts, filling the warehouses, but those bolts were so rusted they might work against ordinary soldiers, but against dragons?
There were over thirty trebuchets, but most were missing parts, and less than half were usable. Jaime, standing nearby, also looked grim as he watched this; it was his first time on the walls, and he hadn't expected their quartermaster to be so negligent.
"Can these things deal with dragons?" Tyrion asked a minor officer beside him.
He shook his head and answered truthfully, "I don't know, my lord, but this is all we have right now. The new recruits don't even have decent weapons."
Tyrion went to look at the soldiers again.
There were only three thousand defenders stationed there now, but two thousand of them were newly conscripted commoners. They wore worn-out leather armor, held rusted weapons, and couldn't even stand in formation. Moreover, this number was nowhere near enough to defend all of King's Landing.
"If the Targaryen forces attacked now, how long could we hold?" Tyrion asked the Commander of the City Watch, Janos Slynt.
Janos was a slick man, but now his face was pale as he replied, "My lord, perhaps... perhaps two days?"
"Two days?" Tyrion laughed. "I doubt we'd last one."
By the time they finished the inspection, it was already evening.
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