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- Джордж Мартин
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"
Very
well
.
"
The
harpist
and
the
piper
bowed
and
hurried
out
,
while
Cersei
kissed
her
cousin
chastely
on
the
cheek
.
"
Leave
us
,
Lancel
.
My
brother
’
s
harmless
when
he
’
s
alone
.
If
he
’
d
brought
his
pets
,
we
’
d
smell
them
.
"
The
young
knight
gave
his
cousin
a
baleful
glance
and
pulled
the
door
shut
forcefully
behind
him
.
"
I
’
ll
have
you
know
I
make
Shagga
bathe
once
a
fortnight
,
"
Tyrion
said
when
he
was
gone
.
"
You
’
re
very
pleased
with
yourself
,
aren
’
t
you
?
Why
?
"
"
Why
not
?
"
Tyrion
said
.
Every
day
,
every
night
,
hammers
rang
along
the
Street
of
Steel
,
and
the
great
chain
grew
longer
.
He
hopped
up
onto
the
great
canopied
bed
.
"
Is
this
the
bed
where
Robert
died
?
I
’
m
surprised
you
kept
it
.
"
"
It
gives
me
sweet
dreams
,
"
she
said
.
"
Now
spit
out
your
business
and
waddle
away
,
Imp
.
"
Tyrion
smiled
.
"
Lord
Stannis
has
sailed
from
Dragonstone
.
"
Cersei
bolted
to
her
feet
.
"
And
yet
you
sit
there
grinning
like
a
harvest
-
day
pumpkin
?
Has
Bywater
called
out
the
City
Watch
?
We
must
send
a
bird
to
Harrenhal
at
once
.
"
He
was
laughing
by
then
.
She
seized
him
by
the
shoulders
and
shook
him
.
"
Stop
it
.
Are
you
mad
,
or
drunk
?
Stop
it
!
"
It
was
all
he
could
do
to
get
out
the
words
.
"
I
can
’
t
,
"
he
gasped
.
"
It
’
s
too
.
.
.
gods
,
too
funny
.
.
.
Stannis
.
.
.
"
"
What
?
"
"
He
hasn
’
t
sailed
against
us
,
"
Tyrion
managed
.
"
He
’
s
laid
siege
to
Storm
’
s
End
.
Renly
is
riding
to
meet
him
.
"
