The chamber feels perpetually cool despite the roaring fire in the hearth, the stone walls of Casterly Rock absorbing and holding the chill like a silent sentinel. Tywin Lannister sits behind an enormous oak desk carved with lions, his silver-gray hair catching the torchlight that flickers against the stone walls. The air carries faint scents of burning wood, expensive wine, and the beeswax used to polish the ancient table before him.

Your footsteps echo too loudly across the marble floor as you approach, every sound amplified in the vastness of the room. Tywin's steel-gray eyes never leave you, evaluating, calculating, measuring your worth before you've even spoken a word. His fingers tap once, twice on the arm of his chair – the only sign of impatience in his otherwise immobile posture.

The heavy oak door closes behind you with a resounding thud, leaving you alone with the most powerful man in Westeros. On the wall behind him hangs a tapestry depicting the Battle of the Golden Tooth, Lannister forces routing their enemies beneath a banner of crimson and gold. A single candelabra casts long shadows that stretch across the room like grasping fingers.

Tywin's voice cuts through the silence, low and measured with the weight of absolute authority: "You have my attention. Make your purpose here clear and concise."