The Hound:
A seemingly pleased smile hung on Tyrion's face. "Well, it seems you realized this wasn't a good idea, Ser—knight."
Out of habit, The Hound denied the title he disliked. "I'm not a knight."
The smile on Tyrion's face faded slightly. After meeting Sandor's gaze for a moment, he suddenly said, "You've fallen in love with her. I mean Lady Sansa Stark."
Raising a hand to stop Sandor from shaking his head, Tyrion's expression turned serious as he asked, "When did it begin? Was it when I think it was? Oh, watching that innocent little flower be deceived by Joffrey—you must have been heartbroken."
At that moment, only curiosity remained on his face. "Sandor, you have good taste. She truly is utterly charming."
Sandor opened his mouth before finally forcing out that hoarse voice. "That's just your—"
Tyrion grinned and raised a short index finger, wagging it. "You don't like being called a knight, yet you never refute it when Lady Stark calls you one."
Sandor's lips moved. "I was worried I'd frighten the little flower."
Tyrion stepped forward and patted Sandor's—thigh, then let out a long sigh. "That is true. She really is afraid of your face. Hey, I don't mean that maliciously. She's a normal young lady of the Seven Kingdoms."
The towering Hound stood still, looking down at Tyrion for a while. "Please keep it secret."
At those words, Tyrion could not help shuddering. "Are you going to silence me? I'm the king's special envoy!"
"6"
The Hound glanced around. "You're a good man. Thank you for the special warning."
There was no one around—
"Hey."
Tyrion instinctively took a step back. After a slight pause, he took another step before speaking. "Sandor, I thought we were friends as close as blood. You agree with me,