Ser Jaime finally revealed that familiar, carefree smile. "I'll recover as quickly as I can. The White Walkers—their leader, I mean. Leave the Night's King's head to me."
Gryn smiled as well. "Recover properly, then go die without worry. If you unfortunately become a Wight, I'll give you release with Wildfire."
Ser Jaime paused briefly, then smiled even more brightly. "It's a deal."
After a few more casual exchanges, there was movement outside the door, and an attendant soon brought in food and wine.
Gryn took the towel and wiped his hands before picking up a pigeon pie and taking a bite. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw—
Jaime's Adam's apple roll faintly in restrained anticipation.
Gulp—
After swallowing the food in his mouth, Gryn took a sip of Summer Wine. By then, Jaime had reached the limit of his endurance.
He gritted his teeth. "Your Grace, perhaps you could choose to enjoy your delicacies in the dining hall."
Gryn unhurriedly finished the rest of the pie in his hand, then waved for Brienne to put everything away, leaving only the wine jug and cups behind.
Seeing Jaime come back to life, Gryn laughed. "I was merely encouraging you to recover sooner. Though for some time to come—the only thing you'll be able to enjoy is meat porridge, which isn't exactly hard to swallow."
Ser Jaime's anger had yet to fade. He clenched his teeth. "I know you did it on purpose."
"If you can still be tempted by good food, that means you'll recover faster than you look."
Gryn shrugged indifferently. "Haven't you noticed? I treat you rather well. I always have."
Yes, what this king had just done was indeed exceedingly childish—
Yet somehow, this side of Gryn made Jaime's gloomy heart feel a little