Exactly, this was why Cersei had sought out Corleone so urgently.
Because of the death of Robb Stark, the King in the North, and news from the North that the two younger Stark sons had been killed by Theon Greyjoy, the legal heir to the title of Lord of Winterfell had now become Sansa Stark.
Just a few days ago, under the instigation of a certain Lord Petyr Baelish who wished to remain anonymous, Hand of the King Tywin decided to force Sansa Stark to marry his son Tyrion.
This arrangement was ingenious; if Tyrion and Sansa produced an heir, that child, possessing both Stark and Lannister blood, would legally inherit Winterfell.
By then, the North would no longer need to be conquered by force, and even the title of Warden of the North, which Tywin had promised to Roose Bolton, could be rightfully reclaimed.
It was only a pity for Sansa; she had been full of joy at the prospect of marrying the handsome Knight of Flowers, famous throughout The Seven Kingdoms, but now she was about to become the wife of a hideous dwarf. In a political transaction, however, her wishes were of no consequence.
No, it wasn't just Sansa; even Cersei, as the Queen Regent, could not go against the arrangements of her father, Tywin Lannister.
The Hand had not consulted her at all before reaching an agreement with the actual power behind House Tyrell, Olenna Redwyne, the Queen of Thorns, finalizing her marriage to Loras Tyrell.
The remarriage of a Queen Regent seemed almost absurd to Corleone in his past life, but in Westeros, in the game of thrones, family continuation and political interests always stood above all else.
Furthermore, Petyr Baelish was set to depart for the Vale to marry Lysa Tully. Lord Robert Arryn of the Eyrie was still a sickly child; once Petyr became his stepfather, it would be no problem for a man of his means to dispose of the widow and her son.
This was essentially equivalent to bringing the Vale under the sphere of Lannister influence.
With this series of maneuvers, Tywin had practically brought the North, The Reach, Stormlands, the Vale, and even the Riverlands into his pocket.
Truly the premier politician of The Seven Kingdoms.
Corleone thought to himself.
The old lion had barely mobilized any more troops; through a series of marriage arrangements and political promises, he had quickly woven a giant web covering most of Westeros in the power vacuum left by Robb Stark's downfall.
He transformed potential enemies into in-laws, legally annexed turbulent territories through blood inheritance, and attempted to complete the Lannister family's unprecedentedly firm control over the iron throne at the minimum cost!
But... was this web truly without flaws?
Then again, if Loras really married Cersei, and her eldest son Joffrey married Loras's sister Margaery, the relationships in this family would be quite a mess.
By then, Cersei would be both Margaery's mother-in-law and her sister-in-law...
"Have you made up your mind, Vito Corleone?"
While Corleone was thinking about these things with dark humor, Cersei's impatient voice rang out.
Her emerald eyes flickered with obvious displeasure. Since this man had entered, he had just stood there in silence, making the already impatient Cersei feel extremely irritable.
"I'm waiting for your answer!"
The hot-tempered Queen Regent stood up abruptly and walked barefoot to Corleone, her gold and crimson skirt sweeping the floor.
"You don't have time to think slowly." She urged urgently, without any hesitation: "In a few days, the Small Council will officially announce the betrothal. By then, all of King's Landing will know the Queen Regent is marrying into Highgarden."
Cersei gritted her teeth, each word squeezed out: "What can you do?"
"Jaime said you're a man who can solve problems. Prove it!"
Seeing Cersei's fuming state, Corleone remained very calm.
Anyone could see that she was desperate.
"Your Grace."
He bowed slightly. Although he used a respectful title, there wasn't much respect in his tone; it was more like a polite reminder: "This matter is actually quite easy to solve."
"Quite easy to solve?"
Hearing this, Cersei raised a delicate eyebrow, her voice full of mockery: "Do you know that this is an agreement reached between my father and Olenna Redwyne? And you tell me it's 'quite easy to solve'?"
"If you're just someone who talks big, then don't waste my time."
"Patience, Your Grace." Corleone smiled slightly.
After all, the angrier and more impatient Cersei became, the more benefits he could extract from her.
"Facilitating a marriage can be very troublesome, as it requires family support, the blessing of the Faith, the right time and place, and two hearts willing to come together."
"But to ruin a marriage... I have at least dozens of ways."
"You must know, destruction is always easier than construction."
Hearing Corleone's resolute tone and seeing his extremely confident posture, Cersei felt her heart skip a beat.
This feeling actually reminded her of when she saw Rhaegar Targaryen on the tourney grounds more than ten years ago.
But she quickly forced herself to calm down.
The man in front of her was just a commoner from the Riverlands, an opportunist who only stood here by currying favor with her father.
He might just be boasting, trying to suck up to her.
"Dozens of ways?"
She folded her arms across her chest, accentuating her mature bosom, though it also made her look more arrogant.
"So, which one do you plan to use?"
"I want something specific and feasible, not an empty promise."
But Corleone did not offer a solution; instead, he shook his head: "No, Your Grace."
"Before I tell you the method, we must discuss something else first."
"That is... why should I help you?"
As he spoke, his gaze pierced straight into the Queen Regent's eyes. The look was so candid it made Cersei feel a hint of pressure.
"Why should I take the double risk of offending the Hand of The Seven Kingdoms, the Lord of Casterly Rock, the Warden of the West, Lord Tywin Lannister, as well as the masters of The Reach, the House Tyrell with their tens of thousands of troops, to do this for you?"
Corleone repeated, each word spoken with heavy emphasis.
Cersei was stunned, but her breathing immediately became rapid again—not because of anger, but excitement!
Because Corleone was bargaining!
That meant he really had a way, and he was actually considering doing it!
"What do you want, Vito Corleone?"
After calming down, Cersei immediately flashed a smile—a smile she had practiced countless times, one that could make men lose their minds.
"Gold? Lannister gold mines could fill the Blackwater Rush."
"A title? I can have Joffrey dub you a knight, or even grant you a piece of land."
She leaned forward, her red lips slightly parted: "The Lannisters can offer every price you can imagine. Just say it."
As she spoke, Cersei tilted her head slightly, candlelight flowing over her golden curls, her fair neck inviting imagination.
She was seducing the man before her with wealth, status, power, and her own subtle hints.
This was her usual method, one that had almost become a physical instinct.
Corleone gazed at the seemingly fragile and delicate Queen Regent before him, his heart unmoved.
For he knew all too well what a mad and vicious soul was hidden beneath this beautiful exterior.
His gaze lingered on Cersei's face, sweeping over her carefully groomed eyebrows and red lips, but it was like a merchant looking at a piece of merchandise to be priced.
This look infuriated Cersei, yet she restrained herself from lashing out on the spot.
"You are a Lannister, Your Grace."
Finally, Corleone spoke, his words very practical: "But Lord Tywin is also a Lannister."
"The price you can offer, I believe the Hand can certainly offer higher, can't he?"
"Furthermore, I am only here today because of Lord Tywin's patronage; it was he who gave me the opportunity to stand here, and gave me the status of a Special Service Officer of the Small Council."
"Lord Tywin..."
"
"He is the lord I respect the most."
As soon as these words were spoken, the hope in Cersei's eyes was instantly extinguished.
A feeling of disappointment surged into her heart, immediately followed by intense irritability.
She should have known!
This man was nothing but her father's lapdog!
Jaime had misjudged him; she had wasted her time and even exposed her own thoughts!
But just as Cersei was about to explode and use the most vicious language to kick Corleone out, she saw the detestable man suddenly grin.
It was frank, even a bit crude, but the meaning revealed in that smile was not a rejection at all.
"So..." he spoke, appearing to have everything under control.
"It'll cost extra!"
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