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Jimmy hated the smell of this place.
The city reeked of rot and decay, mixed with the stench of people pretending to be far better than they truly were.
If you wanted to know which faction was currently the most arrogant in the city, there was a simple method.
Just watch which knights visited Petyr's establishments and refused to pay.
Last time Jimmy came, the knights from Highgarden behaved that way.
This time it was the knights of Dorne.
The banners hadn't changed.
But the people strutting around had.
Jimmy frowned as he carefully stepped around the filthy gutters running along the street.
His overly cautious movements made the commoners behind him snicker with disdain.
"Look at that noble lord…"
…
Joffrey was dead.
He died on the day of his own wedding.
At the final course of the feast. The seventy-seventh dish.
A pie.
The murderer had been declared to be Tyrion.
Because he was the one who poured the king's wine.
Now Tyrion sat in a prison cell while Cersei burned with hatred for him.
Just as Cersei had openly declared.
It didn't matter who the real killer was.
Tyrion had to die.
Tyrion refused to surrender quietly, so Cersei allowed him the right to demand a trial by combat.
Although she no longer had the Mountain as her champion, she had found another monster.
Lyle Crakehall.
Cersei despised him, thinking he resembled the dull brute Robert.
But if the goal was to tear Tyrion apart, such concerns hardly mattered.
When Lyle Crakehall stepped forward as her champion, Bronn who had previously promised to fight for Tyrion came to visit the prisoner.
"Tyrion… I'm afraid I can't be your champion this time."
"Do you know whom your sister chose?"
"The man they call the Boar, Lyle Crakehall."
"The Boar is still a pig, isn't he?" Tyrion joked.
"No, Pigs aren't all the same," Bronn replied seriously.
"Remember, a king once died because of a pig."
Bronn was emphasizing just how dangerous Lyle was.
Fighting him would be madness.
His enormous body might slow him slightly, but Lyle had long learned how to compensate with technique.
Facing him was no different than facing the Mountain.
Whether someone crushed your skull completely with one hammer blow or only smashed half of it…
The result was the same.
Death.
Bronn understood that perfectly.
Without someone else to hide behind, his street-fighter tricks would be useless against a monster like that.
"The king?" Tyrion chuckled bitterly.
"Wasn't I the one who poisoned the king?"
"I wasn't talking about you," Bronn said.
"And not about this king either."
"I meant another pig."
Tyrion stared at him.
I feel like you just insulted me in a very roundabout way.
But I can't prove it.
"Fine," Tyrion sighed.
"I don't blame you."
Bronn nodded.
"Don't worry. I didn't come empty-handed."
"The queen arranged a marriage for me."
"To Lollys Stokeworth."
"The halfwit who wanders Saltpans Street?" Tyrion raised an eyebrow.
"The one who got pregnant by a dozen rioters?"
At that moment Tyrion understood everything.
Cersei had bought Bronn's loyalty.
On one side, he risked his life.
On the other side was inheriting Stokeworth Castle.
Only a fool would hesitate.
"Yeah," Bronn said casually.
"To honor our friendship, I'll name my first son Tyrion."
Tyrion stared at him.
Thank you very much.
I treated you like a friend.
And you're planning to become my father.
…
After Bronn left, Tyrion was trapped in complete despair.
For once, even his brilliant mind could find no solution.
Bronn's visit had made one thing clear.
Cersei had cut off every ally he had.
Once again he would have to charge forward alone, just like the battle against Stannis's fleet.
But there was one crucial difference.
Last time he fought for King's Landing and House Lannister.
This time he fought only for himself.
Back then he believed he could win.
Now he felt only the sadness of inevitable defeat.
Tyrion sighed.
"If I'd known it would come to this…"
"I should've just let Stannis take the city."
"They call me the Little Demon anyway."
Cersei wanted him dead more than anything.
Even if Jaime tried to stand between them, she wouldn't hesitate to destroy him as well.
Since Jaime returned from captivity missing a hand, Tyrion had noticed something.
In Cersei's heart, Jaime no longer held the same place.
"You're hardly a demon."
A voice emerged from the darkness.
The torchlight shifted.
A figure slowly appeared in the flickering glow.
"Prince Oberyn," Tyrion said calmly.
"What brings you to visit a prisoner in the middle of the night?"
"Shouldn't you be enjoying Petyr's brothels?"
Oberyn Martell.
A man who hated every Lannister.
Hated every Baratheon.
But he was a man of absolute principles.
If you stabbed him once, he would stab you back twice.
"That was a few days ago," Oberyn replied.
"Recently I've been spending time with a beautiful golden-haired lady."
"So my schedule has changed."
He placed the torch on the wall and sat down opposite Tyrion.
"Oh?" Tyrion leaned forward.
"I've heard plenty of filthy stories in this cell."
"But sadly none of the scandalous ones I enjoy most."
"It's your sister," Oberyn said casually.
Tyrion blinked.
Oberyn truly never let an insult go unpaid.
Oberyn sat comfortably before continuing.
"Cersei came to see me."
"She talked at length about her daughter."
"She swore it was all about family."
"She said she had no desire to harm you."
"She spoke so convincingly she nearly moved herself to tears."
"Quite a performance."
Tyrion chuckled coldly.
"Appealing to family bonds is one of her favorite tricks."
"I'm not surprised."
Oberyn studied him thoughtfully.
"You know, I've always wondered how you managed to survive this long."
"Living beside someone who wanted to kill you from the moment you were born."
"It's quite a miracle."
He looked up toward the ceiling as if remembering something.
"You may find this strange."
"But I saw you once when you were a baby."
"When I first traveled outside Dorne."
Tyrion frowned.
"That's impossible. I would remember."
"No," Oberyn said.
"You wouldn't."
"You were an infant."
"When I arrived, everyone was whispering about the monster born into House Lannister."
"They said it had a head twice the size of its body."
"Claws. Fangs."
"And a tail."
"I was curious."
"So I went to see the monster."
Oberyn's voice softened, almost like someone telling a bedtime story beside a candle.
"When your sister lifted the blanket…"
"I saw a baby."
"Yes, your head was a little large."
"Yes, your limbs were small."
"But there were no claws."
"No tail."
"No fangs."
"Just a baby."
He paused.
"She said: 'He killed our mother.'"
"Then she grabbed you and started squeezing."
"If your brother hadn't stopped her…"
"She would have torn a piece of flesh right off your body."
Tyrion's eyes filled with tears.
That was the story of his life.
A miserable one.
"Well," Tyrion whispered bitterly.
"It seems Cersei finally gets her wish."
"She always gets what she wants."
Oberyn leaned forward slightly.
"And what about my wish?"
"You promised me something."
"You would clear my sister's name."
"And declare Gregor Clegane guilty of his crimes."
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