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- Джордж Мартин
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- Стр. 83/751
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He
peered
through
his
helm
,
looking
this
way
and
that
.
"
Spirits
of
the
air
!
"
The
prince
laughed
,
as
he
always
laughed
when
his
bodyguard
did
this
mummer
's
farce
.
Tyrion
was
used
to
it
.
"
Down
here
.
"
The
tall
man
peered
down
at
the
ground
,
and
pretended
to
notice
him
.
"
The
little
lord
Tyrion
,
"
he
said
.
"
My
pardons
.
I
did
not
see
you
standing
there
.
"
"
I
am
in
no
mood
for
your
insolence
today
.
"
Tyrion
turned
to
his
nephew
.
"
Joffrey
,
it
is
past
time
you
called
on
Lord
Eddard
and
his
lady
,
to
offer
them
your
comfort
.
"
Joffrey
looked
as
petulant
as
only
a
boy
prince
can
look
.
"
What
good
will
my
comfort
do
them
?
"
"
None
,
"
Tyrion
said
.
"
Yet
it
is
expected
of
you
.
Your
absence
has
been
noted
.
"
"
The
Stark
boy
is
nothing
to
me
,
"
Joffrey
said
.
"
I
can
not
abide
the
wailing
of
women
.
"
Tyrion
Lannister
reached
up
and
slapped
his
nephew
hard
across
the
face
.
The
boy
's
cheek
began
to
redden
.
"
One
word
,
"
Tyrion
said
,
"
and
I
will
hit
you
again
.
"
"
I
'm
going
to
tell
Mother
!
"
Joffrey
exclaimed
.
