Lannisport's luxurious brothel was thick with the aroma of wine and the cloying scent of women's powder.
Tyrion Lannister, short in stature and bare-chested, leaned against the velvet headboard. He held an empty silver goblet between his fingers, a few drops of red wine still clinging to its sides. The drink had flushed his cheeks.
Beside him, a red-haired woman sprawled lazily like a docile cat, tracing aimless circles on his not particularly broad chest with her slender fingers.
Tyrion's voice was hoarse with the fatigue of a night's exertions. "All right, darling."
"Tell me, is there anything else in this city lately that might interest a beauty like you, besides me?"
"Just don't tell me it's those guards and their stinking feet again."
The woman stopped tracing circles and looked up, her emerald eyes sparkling in the candlelight.
Her name was Daisy, one of the most expensive women in Lannisport. She knew how to please a man, and not just in bed.
She chuckled, her soft body brushing against Tyrion's short arm. "Of course, my lord."
"All my friends are talking about your generosity."
"But!"
"Now they have something new to talk about."
Tyrion swirled his empty goblet, rousing himself a little. "Oh?"
Daisy's voice turned mysterious, as though she were sharing a tremendous secret. "A lion, Lord Tyrion. A black lion."
"They all call him the Black Lion, Suleiman."
Tyrion raised an eyebrow. "Another lion. My father won't like the name, so long as that lion isn't a Lannister."
Daisy grew animated and propped herself up, the silk sheet slipping from her smooth shoulders. "Of course he isn't a Lannister!!!"
"Everyone says he's more impressive than the lions of House Lannister!!!"
"Haven't you heard, Lord Tyrion? The dockworkers! The tavern girls! Even the merchants and noble lords who