King and King 8

Tyrion's eyes shifted slyly in their sockets, revealing a hint of displeasure. He raised his head to look at the tall Melisandre. "Beautiful lady, don't let my short legs fool you. I can still mount a horse and charge into battle for His Majesty Stannis."

Melisandre's flame-lit eyes moved slightly. Her gaze seemed almost tangible as it lingered on Tyrion for a moment, as though she meant to see through him.

Then the corners of her luscious lips curled faintly as she replied with a smile that was not quite a smile. "You seem to be questioning His Majesty the King's arrangements, brave little lion?"

Tyrion's small body immediately trembled. "How could that be? I merely regret not having the honor of fighting for His Majesty on the battlefield. He is the son of flame, favored by the true god. To serve him is my greatest honor. I am endlessly grateful."

A trace of satisfaction appeared on Melisandre's exquisite face. "The Lord of Light loves all mankind, and the true god blesses the devout. Congratulations."

Tyrion curled his lips into a flattering smile. "Every night, I fall asleep staring at the candle flame by my bed, silently praying to the Lord of Light."

Then he changed the subject. "Keeping His Majesty waiting is terribly presumptuous. Please trouble yourself to show me the way, charming lady."

Melisandre laughed. "There is no need to hurry. His Majesty is currently receiving the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch."

Tyrion glanced at the priestess's slightly damp brown boots, and the smile on his face deepened like a blooming chrysanthemum. "Even waiting outside for His Majesty's summons would be my greatest honor."

With that, he bent gracefully at the waist and extended one hand toward the stairs in a gesture of invitation.

Melisandre smiled softly