Tyrion suddenly turned his head. "My most reliable and loyal squire, can you beat that damned sellsword?"
After thinking seriously for two seconds, Podrick nervously glanced at Bronn. "My lord, I can't guarantee... victory, but I can... try."
"Aha."
Tyrion raised his cup in celebration. "Bronn, stop thinking about the Dwarf's head. A toast to fearless Podrick."
Ser Bronn grinned, showing his large white teeth. "Oh, well done. And besides, I have always been your man, Lord Tyrion." Tyrion gave him a tight-lipped smile. "I never doubted it."
The mood was cheerful, but the next moment Ser Bronn suddenly said, "Pod, if the king wanted Lord Tyrion's head from you, what would you do?" Tyrion rolled his eyes and silently took a sip of Summer Wine. The little squire about to pour more wine staggered, nearly spilling the contents of the jug. Seeing him freeze in place, Ser Bronn's face took on a dangerous smile. "Answer me, Podrick Payne."
"I... I-I..."
The little squire was utterly flustered.
Ser Bronn's smile did not change as he reminded him, "Don't forget, Gryn Crabb is practically the true master of the Westerlands now. House Payne... oh, I suppose they might be worth something too, though not as much as Lord Tyrion."
Podrick finally forced out his voice. "The king is just..."
"That's right. Great King Gryn is most just and benevolent."
Tyrion cut him off directly, then tossed the purse at his waist to the leering Bronn. "That's enough joking around. Still, thank you for the reminder, you damned sellsword. Come, Pod, sit down. Please, sit. Sit."
Clatter.
The little squire uneasily lowered himself into a seat. Tyrion was practically standing on his chair as he personally poured him a cup of wine.
"You should go to The Wall with Bronn. I'll write