me, please. I like to feel you there.”
So Tyrion did not move, except to put his arms around her.
“I like your scar.” She traced it with her finger. “It makes you look very fierce and strong.”
He laughed. “Very ugly, you mean.”
“M’lord will never be ugly in my eyes.” She kissed the scab that covered the ragged stub of his nose.
“It’s not my face that need concern you, it’s my father—”
“He does not frighten me. Will m’lord give me back my jewels and silks now? I asked Varys if I could have them when you were hurt in the battle, but he wouldn’t give them to me. What would have become of them if you’d died?”
“I didn’t die. Here I am.”
“I know.” Shae wriggled atop him, smiling. “Just where you belong.” Her mouth turned pouty. “But how long must I go on with Lollys, now that you’re well?”
“Have you been listening?” Tyrion said. “You can stay with Lollys if you like, but it would be best if you left the city.”
“I don’t want to leave. You promised you’d move me into a manse again after the battle.” Her cunt gave him a little squeeze, and he started to stiffen again inside her. “A Lannister always pays his debts, you said.”
“Shae, gods be damned, stop that.
“Can I come to the king’s wedding feast? Lollys won’t go. I told her no one’s like to rape her in the king’s own throne room, but she’s so
Tyrion had almost forgotten about Shae’s thrice-damned singer. “How is it you spoke to Symon?”
“I told Lady Tanda about him, and she hired him to play for Lollys. The music calms her when the baby starts to kick. Symon says there’s to be a dancing bear at the feast, and wines from the Arbor. I’ve never seen a bear dance.”
“They do it worse than I do.” It was the singer who concerned him, not the bear. One careless word in the wrong ear, and Shae would hang.
“Symon says there’s to be seventy-seven courses and a hundred doves baked into a great pie,” Shae gushed. “When the crust’s opened, they’ll all burst out and fly.”
“After which they will roost in the rafters and rain down birdshit on the guests.” Tyrion had suffered such wedding pies before. The doves liked to shit on
“Couldn’t I dress in my silks and velvets and go as a lady instead of a maidservant? No one would know I wasn’t.”
“There’s to be a thousand guests, Symon says. She’d never even see me. I’d find a place in some dark corner below the salt, but whenever you got up to go to the privy I could slip out and meet you.” She cupped his cock and stroked it gently. “I won’t wear any smallclothes under my gown, so m’lord won’t even need to unlace me.” Her fingers teased him, up and down. “Or if he liked, I could do this for him.” She took him in her mouth.
Tyrion was soon ready again. This time he lasted much longer. When he finished Shae crawled back up him and curled up naked under his arm. “You’ll let me come, won’t you?”
“Shae,” he groaned, “it
For a time she said nothing at all. Tyrion tried to speak of other things, but he met a wall of sullen courtesy as icy and unyielding as the Wall he’d once walked in the north.
When the candle burned out, Tyrion disentangled himself and lit another. Then he made a round of the walls, tapping on each in turn, searching for the hidden door. Shae sat with her legs drawn up and her arms wrapped around them, watching him. Finally she said, “They’re under the bed. The secret steps.”
He looked at her, incredulous. “The bed? The bed is solid stone. It weighs half a ton.”
“There’s a place where Varys pushes, and it floats right up. I asked him how, and he said it was magic.”
“Yes.” Tyrion had to grin. “A counterweight spell.”
Shae stood. “I should go back. Sometimes the baby kicks and Lollys wakes and calls for me.”
“Varys should return shortly. He’s probably listening to every word we say.” Tyrion set the candle down. There was a wet spot on the front of his breeches, but in the darkness it ought to go unnoticed. He told Shae to dress and wait for the eunuch.
“I will,” she promised. “You are my lion, aren’t you? My giant of Lannister?”
“I am,” he said. “And you’re—”
“—your whore.” She laid a finger to his lips. “I know. I’d be your lady, but I never can. Else you’d take me to the feast. It doesn’t matter. I like being a whore for you, Tyrion. Just keep me, my lion, and keep me safe.”
“I shall,” he promised.
The walk back seemed long and lonely. Podrick Payne was asleep in his trundle bed at the foot of Tyrion’s, but he woke the boy. “Bronn,” he said.
“Ser Bronn?” Pod rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Oh. Should I get him? My lord?”
“Why no, I woke you up so we could have a little chat about the way he dresses,” said Tyrion, but his sarcasm was wasted. Pod only gaped at him in confusion until he threw up his hands and said, “Yes, get him. Bring him. Now.”
The lad dressed hurriedly and all but ran from the room.
He was on his third cup and half the night was gone before Pod finally returned, with the sellsword knight in tow. “I hope the boy had a damn good reason dragging me out of Chataya’s,” Bronn said as he seated himself.
“
“It’s good to be a knight. No more looking for the cheaper brothels down the street.” Bronn grinned. “Now it’s Alayaya and Marei in the same featherbed, with Ser Bronn in the middle.”
Tyrion had to bite back his annoyance. Bronn had as much right to bed Alayaya as any other man, but still…
“What of him?”
ARYA
She was grubbing for vegetables in a dead man’s garden when she heard the singing.