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- Джордж Мартин
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"
.
.
.
hated
every
instant
of
it
,
is
that
what
you
would
have
me
believe
?
A
high
place
at
court
,
knighthood
,
my
sister
’
s
legs
opening
for
you
at
night
,
oh
,
yes
,
it
must
have
been
terrible
for
you
.
"
Tyrion
pushed
himself
to
his
feet
.
"
Wait
here
.
His
Grace
will
want
to
hear
this
.
"
The
defiance
went
from
Lancel
all
at
once
.
The
young
knight
fell
to
his
knees
a
frightened
boy
.
"
Mercy
,
my
lord
,
I
beg
you
.
"
"
Save
it
for
Joffrey
.
He
likes
a
good
beg
.
"
"
My
lord
,
it
was
your
sister
’
s
bidding
,
the
queen
,
as
you
said
,
but
His
Grace
.
.
.
he
’
d
never
understand
.
.
.
"
"
Would
you
have
me
keep
the
truth
from
the
king
?
"
"
For
my
father
’
s
sake
!
I
’
ll
leave
the
city
,
it
will
be
as
if
it
never
happened
!
I
swear
,
I
will
end
it
.
.
.
"
It
was
hard
not
to
laugh
.
"
I
think
not
.
"
Now
the
lad
looked
lost
.
"
My
lord
?
"
"
You
heard
me
.
My
father
told
you
to
obey
my
sister
?
Very
well
,
obey
her
.
Stay
close
to
her
side
,
keep
her
trust
,
pleasure
her
as
often
as
she
requires
it
.
No
one
need
ever
know
.
.
.
so
long
as
you
keep
faith
with
me
.
I
want
to
know
what
Cersei
is
doing
.
Where
she
goes
,
who
she
sees
,
what
they
talk
of
,
what
plans
she
is
hatching
.
All
.
And
you
will
be
the
one
to
tell
me
,
won
’
t
you
?
"
