The narrow alley was flanked by broken stone walls, where moss grew wantonly on the stones.
The bells of the Great Sept of Baelor rang out leisurely.
Greene Crabb looked up at the sun and said, "How is Tyrion doing?"
Ser Bronn spread a hand and grinned, "My Lord Duke, he is a Lion."
Greene couldn't help but smile, saying, "Only Tyrion and Prince Oberyn? Prostitutes excluded."
"And a mistress of the Prince..."
Ser Bronn scratched his cheek and said, "She shouldn't be considered a prostitute."
Greene smiled again, then said to Brienne, "Give him a bag of gold dragons."
Upon hearing this, Ser Brienne Tarth (Chapter 323) unfastened the coin purse from her waist and tossed it directly to Ser Bronn.
Ser Bronn habitually weighed the coin purse in his hand first, then tucked it into his bosom, his smile becoming even more lewd: "Thank you, generous Lord Duke, Bronn is at your service."
"How many guards did Tyrion bring?"
Hearing Greene's question, Ser Bronn's eyes shifted slightly, and he said, "Besides me and Pod, Lord Tyrion brought four Red Cloaks."
"What about the Blue Cloaks I lent to Tyrion?"
"Lord Tyrion arranged for Crabb warriors to protect... the Dorne Envoy who were left to rest in Hook Alley."
Greene scrutinized Bronn, frowning, "Do you know if there are other eyes among the Red Cloaks he brought?"
"I did notice a Red Cloak acting stealthily..."
Ser Bronn shrugged helplessly and continued, "But he's a Lannister's Red Cloak, and fortunately... that Prince Oberyn seemed to sense it, he closed the window."
Greene's eyebrows raised slightly: "You seem to have witnessed the entire eavesdropping process."
"The duty of a guard captain is to protect the safety of the employer, but I absolutely did not participate in eavesdropping, I swear."
Ser Bronn showed a fawning smile: "A Sellsword who wants to live will never act smart, Lord Duke."
Greene nodded and said, "How many guards did Prince Oberyn bring?"
After speaking, he made a gesture, and Brienne quickly threw another coin purse.
Bronn's face immediately broke into a wide smile, but he received it with trepidation.
The questions asked by the great nobleman in front of him seemed ordinary, but they must be hiding something, as evidenced by the bags of gold dragons he kept receiving.
Although he couldn't figure out the reason, years of experience as a Sellsword on the brink of life and death told Bronn that he must handle this carefully, otherwise... he would die.
Bronn grinned: "Also four people, I even specifically checked if there were any hidden guards, and there were indeed four guards, I guarantee it, Lord Duke."
Seeing a look of suspicion on Greene's face, he quickly said, "I can swear, Lord Tyrion had me investigate secretly."
Greene nodded slightly; this was indeed Tyrion's character, he was very cautious.
Bronn added, "After all, this is King's Landing, the capital of the Seven Kingdoms, and they are both having a great time."
After a pause, Greene made a gesture with the hand behind his back and said, "Want to earn a lot of gold dragons, Ser Bronn of the Blackwater?"
Bronn's smile froze for a moment, he bowed his waist, and carefully probed, "Can I refuse, just this once, my Lord Duke?"
After a while, Ser Brienne carried the unconscious Bronn on her shoulder.
"Let's find a place to lock him up first."
...
Inside a room at Tashaaya's brothel, golden curtains hung from the ceiling, the walls were adorned with gold ornaments depicting various poses, and the floor was covered with a golden Myr carpet, as if every corner shimmered with golden light.
Tyrion Lannister and Oberyn Martell were half-reclined with their legs stretched out on gold-inlaid lounge chairs, while on the bed at the other end of the room: a woman with long, curly black hair and slightly exaggerated curves slept covered only by a thin blanket.
Tyrion's drunken eyes examined the dagger, or perhaps short sword, in his hand. Its blade was more than two palms long, and its width was about the same as his index and middle fingers held together.
The dark blade shimmered with a faint red, like a venomous snake.
Touching the coiled golden serpent hilt, Tyrion's mismatched eyes, one green and one black, flickered, and he said, "Prince Oberyn, this magnificent short sword seems to have a story of its own?"
He gripped the hilt, flicked his wrist, and grinned: "If it once had glory, it might be defiled, because I might use it to shave."
Prince Oberyn wore a loose sleeping robe, revealing most of his chest and abdomen, his melancholic eyes looked at Tyrion and said, "I don't recommend doing that; if it were me, I would never touch its blade."
He smiled slightly: "Oh, its name is 'Viper', I named it."
Upon hearing this, Tyrion glanced at the black sheen on the 'Viper's' blade. Viper... poison... a poisoned sword?!
Thinking of this, he immediately sheathed the sword and then buckled it to his waist.
Even after ensuring this Viper wouldn't "escape," he still shifted uncomfortably.
Tyrion pursed his lips and smiled at Prince Oberyn: "Thank you for your gift, esteemed Prince."
Prince Oberyn smiled and said, "That was a gift I received on my coming-of-age naming day, I hope you like it."
Tyrion rubbed his slightly heavy head and grinned, "I already feel its weight."
"As long as you like it."
Prince Oberyn's dark, bright eyes seemed to be reminiscing: "After I harvested the lives of seventy-seven warriors with 'Viper,' I had it put away. It was originally a gift I specifically prepared for my nephew. Unfortunately, I was unable to give it to him, so it remained until today."
His nephew? Was he referring to little Aegon, killed by his kind father's men, or Viserys, who died across the Narrow Sea?
"I am truly honored." Tyrion picked up his goblet and took a large gulp of Dorne summer red.
Tyrion's understanding of Prince Oberyn mainly came from rumors, and the rumors surrounding him had become increasingly terrifying.
Rumor had it that Prince Oberyn traveled through the nine Free Trade Cities, dealing with poisoners and learning various dark arts.
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