He just nodded and said, "I understand. Now, if I really manage to hold King's Landing, how will you reward me? Or, if I die, will you be sad for me?"
Tyrion finally asked his father this question, harboring a sliver of hope.
But Tywin only glanced at him sideways, then continued handling the matters at hand without giving him any answer.
Tyrion could only shrug self-deprecatingly and said with a smile, "Fine, don't worry, Father. Even if I die, I'll make sure to take a few down with me."
As he spoke, he jumped off the chair and waved his short arms a few times, as if he were wielding a sword to slash at something.
Tywin ignored his antics and waved his hand, signaling him to leave.
Tyrion turned and walked towards the door, then suddenly stopped.
"Father." He didn't turn around, but looked back at Tywin, who was buried in his desk, and said, "I don't care how you see me, but I am a true Lannister lion, and I will do my best to hold King's Landing."
After saying this, he pushed open the door and left.
Tywin looked up then, watching his retreating figure with no expression on his face.
Kevan looked at him and sighed, "Brother, are you really just going to let him go like this?"
Tywin didn't answer. He went back to looking at the documents on his desk, but his mind was on other things. Casterly Rock was indeed easy to defend and hard to attack, but he didn't know if it could withstand dragons.
But he was Tywin, and he would not sit and wait for death.
"Kevan," he said, looking at Kevan who was still in the study, "Send someone to inform Renly and Stannis now. Tell them that if King's Landing falls, they will certainly be next. If they want to survive, they must send troops immediately."
However, he only wanted Renly and the others to distract Viserys, because he always felt that Viserys's next target was likely the Westerlands, not the Stormlands. He wanted more time to prepare for the future of House Lannister.
Kevan didn't know his intentions and nodded, saying, "Alright, I'll go arrange the ravens now." In Kevan's view, Tywin doing this might be out of concern for Tyrion, as his father.
After all, the deep disgust Tywin felt for Tyrion deep down was known only to himself. Perhaps Tyrion sensed some of it, but he didn't care. For the sake of Lannister honor, he had always hidden it well from the outside world.
To outsiders, his dislike of Tyrion was at most because he was a dwarf. But this was normal among the nobility; no one would like their child to be a dwarf, and Tywin had already done well enough.
After Kevan left, Tywin stood up and leaned over the map. His finger slid from King's Landing to Dragonstone, then from Dragonstone to the Crabs Claw Peninsula, then from King's Landing to Bitterbridge, and finally stopped at Castamere.
He was calculating how long it would take for the Targaryen to take King's Landing, how many troops Renly and Stannis had left and how long they could hold out, and how much longer Robb Stark could cause trouble in the Westerlands.
He was Tywin, the smartest schemer in the Seven Kingdoms. He had never miscalculated before, except for that time with Robb.
But this time, he felt very uncertain. Because of the existence of dragons—creatures that were almost forgotten on the continent of Westeros.
Just as he was thinking, the sound of ravens kept coming from outside the window, one after another, like some kind of ominous omen.
Tywin frowned and walked over to close the window. He did not believe in omens, did not believe in curses, and did not believe in anything he could not see. He only believed in armies, money, and schemes.
That evening, Tyrion left Harrenhal with five hundred cavalry, preparing to rush to King's Landing.
Ser Kevan came to see him off. He looked at the Imp and whispered, "Tyrion, there are many bandits in the territory of the The Riverlands from Harrenhal to King's Landing. You must be careful on the road."
Tyrion nodded and looked at him with some gratitude, "I will be careful, Uncle."
Then, he rode away, followed closely by the five hundred cavalry, the sound of hoofbeats echoing in the twilight.
Kevan stood at the city gate, watching the small figure disappear at the end of his vision, a strange feeling welling up in his heart.
He knew that Tyrion's journey was perilous, and this was likely the last time they would see each other. It was just that the Lannister "giant," the dwarf who had suffered cold looks since childhood, was finally being "put to use" by his father this time.
But he also knew that Tywin had his reasons for doing this, and it was not his place to say anything.
Tywin was also standing on the walls of Harrenhal at this time, watching the troop disappear into the distance, but his green eyes kept flashing with light, and it was unknown what he was thinking.
Tyrion was riding a small horse with a specially customized saddle. This saddle had been designed and crafted by him and his favorite uncle, Gerion Lannister, and was very suitable for someone of his small stature or someone with limited mobility to ride.
Throughout this journey, Tyrion rarely spoke. He was constantly thinking about how to hold that damned city, which made his head, which already looked a size too large, seem even bigger.
He knew what he was about to face. The hostility of his sister Cersei, the stupidity of his nephew Joffrey, the schemes of Varys, the plots of Littlefinger, as well as other rats in the shadows, and the dragons of the Targaryen outside the city.
He also knew that with the strength he had on hand, King's Landing could not be held at all.
But he had no way out. If he did nothing, Tywin would be very happy to watch him die in King's Landing. But if he did something, perhaps...
Perhaps he could survive. He thought with some expectation in his heart.
He remembered a story he had heard Jaime tell a few years ago. When The Mad King Aerys burned the Starks to death, Jaime was standing right next to him. At that time, he asked Jaime why he didn't stop The Mad King, and Jaime replied to him, "I was powerless."
Now he understood Jaime's feeling a little.
Powerless.
But the difference was, he still wanted to try to do something. Not for Tywin, and not for House Lannister, but just so that he could survive as long as possible.
He touched the book at his waist that he hadn't finished writing yet and smiled bitterly. Perhaps he should write about his upcoming experience in King's Landing, and change the title to "The Death of a Noble Dwarf."
They galloped along the Kingsroad, traveling day and night without much rest.
Tyrion rode on his horse, looking at King's Landing, which was getting closer and closer. He reined in his horse; his heart was very calm now, so calm that even he himself felt a little surprised.
He had been to King's Landing many times before, but that was as a guest, as the dwarf of House Lannister, the Imp, the Half-man, being mocked and looked down upon, needing Jaime to stand up for him every time.
But this time it was different. This time, he was here to save King's Landing.
Although this King's Landing before him had never belonged to him.
"A Lannister always pays his debts." He murmured to himself, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, but he continued to urge his horse forward.
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