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Chapter 32

Chapter 32: The Feast and Knighting
...
Tywin Lannister POV

The grand hall of Casterly Rock hummed with life, filled with the murmur of noble voices, the soft clatter of plates, and the rhythmic clinking of goblets.

Lords and ladies from across the Westerlands and beyond had gathered to celebrate the birth of my youngest son, Tyrion. But this was no mere feast; it marked the beginning of a tourney in Lannisport, a spectacle I had arranged in honor of my son.

Seated at the high table, I surveyed the room with a practiced eye. The hall was filled, just as I had intended.

Lords and bannermen sat in their places, and allies from across the realm filled every seat. Their attentions were divided between the lavish food spread before them and the quiet whispers of intrigue swirling around the hall.

A faint smirk tugged at my lips. Everything was unfolding as I had orchestrated. My ambitions, always carefully calculated, were aligning with quiet precision.

To my left, Joanna cradled our newborn son. Tyrion slept peacefully, oblivious to the grandeur surrounding him.

To most, this was simply a celebration of his birth. But for me, it was an opportunity to secure alliances and strengthen Lannister influence across Westeros.

To my right sat Rhaegar Targaryen, the crown prince of the Seven Kingdoms. His silver hair caught the light of the torches as he engaged my twins, Jaime and Cersei, in conversation. His soft smile and composed demeanor captivated them, and I could see how eagerly they absorbed his attention.

This was the true centerpiece of the evening—Rhaegar's presence was key to my plans.

As I observed the scene, a deep satisfaction settled within me. The feast progressed just as I had envisioned.

Rhaegar's place at the high table was no mere formality; it was a testament to our growing influence, a symbol of what was to come.

I could already see the future: Cersei at Rhaegar's side, ruling from the Iron Throne, Lannister gold and Targaryen dragons bound together in an unshakable alliance.

For now, I allowed myself to savor the evening's success. The first course had been served, and the hall buzzed with laughter and conversation.

The tourney would soon follow, bringing new opportunities to further my designs. And as always, I would be ready.
...
Third POV

In the dimly lit squire's row, Galahad sat quietly among the other young men, his expression calm as he ate his meal. The chatter around him was steady, but he barely noticed it. His mind was elsewhere.

He had been lost in thought ever since the previous day, when Kevan Lannister had told him he would be knighted during the feast.

It was a sudden and unexpected honor, one that would elevate him into the ranks of the noble knights of Westeros.

He had thanked Kevan as expected, bowing his head with the proper humility, but inside, his thoughts were spinning. This hadn't been part of his plan.

Before this, he had intended to enter the tourney under a different identity. One of his men had already registered him as a mystery knight.

The idea had been simple: compete in disguise, win glory, and only then reveal himself, earning admiration on his own terms.

But the promise of a knighthood had changed everything.

If Tywin Lannister wanted to make him a knight, Galahad could use that to his advantage. He didn't need to hide behind a mask.

Why not let them knight him in front of everyone? Why not show the realm what he was capable of? He could still take part in the tourney—this time as a true knight.