Битва королей

Tyrion

           HetrodonSlynt’scloth-of-goldcapeonhisway.

           Tyrionsatalone,sippingatwhatremainedofthefinesweetDornishwine.Servantscameandwent,clearingthedishesfromthetable.Hetoldthemtoleavethewine.Whentheyweredone,Varyscameglidingintothehall,wearingflowinglavenderrobesthatmatchedhissmell."Ohsweetlydone,mygoodlord."

           "ThenwhydoIhavethisbittertasteinmymouth?"Hepressedhisfingersintohistemples."ItoldthemtothrowAllarDeemintothesea.Iamsorelytemptedtodothesamewithyou."

           "Youmightbedisappointedbytheresult,"Varysreplied."Thestormscomeandgo,thewavescrashoverhead,thebigfisheatthelittlefish,andIkeeponpaddling.MightItroubleyouforatasteofthewinethatLordSlyntenjoyedsomuch?"

           Tyrionwavedattheflagon,frowning.

           Varysfilledacup."Ah.Sweetassummer."Hetookanothersip."Ihearthegrapessingingonmytongue."

           "Iwonderedwhatthatnoisewas.Tellthegrapestokeepstill,myheadisabouttosplit.Itwasmysister.Thatwaswhattheoh-so-loyalLordJanosrefusedtosay.Cerseisentthegoldcloakstothatbrothel."

           Varystitterednervously.Sohehadknownallalong.

           "Youleftthatpartout,"Tyrionsaidaccusingly.

           "Yourownsweetsister,"Varyssaid,sogrief-strickenhelookedclosetotears."Itisahardthingtotellaman,mylord.

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