Before the drunkard had even finished speaking, Bronn's laughter rang out in the hall.
Bronn had wanted to laugh for a long time. However, "Ser Lucian" had reminded them not to do anything too conspicuous, so he had kept quiet. But since "Ser Lucian" had spoken up himself, Bronn had no reason to hold it in any longer.
"I love her!" the drunkard nearly roared, then glared viciously at Bronn. "Are you laughing?"
"No, I'm not." Bronn dipped his bread into the soup as though the drunkard's threatening glare did not exist.
"You are laughing!" the drunkard roared, pounding both fists against the table until it thudded. "No one can laugh at Borris of The Sea Dancer. No one!"
Bronn suddenly felt someone tug at the hem of his clothes. Turning around, he found Ian leaning close to whisper in his ear, "Provoke him, but don't kill him."
"Is that so? Fine, I am laughing." Bronn immediately laughed even more brazenly. "And I'll laugh whenever I damn well please. The New and Old Gods, the Red God, and every other cursed god put together can't take away my right to laugh."
Borris rose to his feet and glared viciously at Bronn. Without a sound, Bronn placed his right hand on the dagger behind his back. If the other man made one more move, he would slit his throat.
Perhaps he sensed the killing intent in Bronn's eyes, or perhaps he saw that no one at Ian's table looked easy to deal with. Borris unusually managed to suppress his impulse.
Rather than pressing closer to Bronn, he remained where he was and tried to save face. "So aren't you curious how I survived against so many Gold Cloaks and can still sit here openly today?"
"Is taking down three Gold Cloaks,