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Tyrion

           

           ThepinkfacewasbeginningtopurplewhenTyrionletgo.Themaesterreeledback,suckinginair.Hisreddenedthroatshoweddeepwhitegougeswherethelinkshadpressed.Hiseyeswerewhitetoo.Tyrionraisedahandtohisfaceandmadearippingmotionoverthehardenedmask.Andagain.Andagain.

           "You...youwantthebandagesoff,isthatit?"themaestersaidatlast."ButI’mnotto...thatwouldbe...bemostunwise,mylord.Youarenotyethealed,thequeenwould..."

           ThementionofhissistermadeTyriongrowl.Areyouoneofhers,then?Hepointedafingeratthemaester,thencoiledhishandintoafist.Crushing,choking,apromise,unlessthefooldidashewasbid.

           Thankfully,heunderstood."I...Iwilldoasmylordcommands,tobesure,but...thisisunwise,yourwounds..."

           "Do.It."Louderthattime.

           Bowing,themanlefttheroom,onlytoreturnafewmomentslater,bearingalongknifewithaslendersaw-toothblade,abasinofwater,apileofsoftcloths,andseveralflasks.BythenTyrionhadmanagedtosquirmbackwardafewinches,sohewashalf-sittingagainsthispillow.Themaesterbadehimbeverystillasheslidthetipoftheknifeinunderhischin,beneaththemask.Aslipofthehandhere,andCerseiwillbefreeofme,hethought.Hecouldfeelthebladesawingthroughthestiffenedlinen,onlyinchesabovehisthroat.

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