Amid Rainwater and Snowball's heavy breathing, Joffrey opened his eyes in the darkness.
The time had come to settle this.
"Begin the operation." The Hound heard Prince Joffrey say.
The Hound silently climbed out of bed, donned his armor, strapped on his sword, and pushed open the inn room's creaking wooden door, reeking of alcohol.
The pitch-black narrow corridor was filled with the rotten stench of drunkenness and vomit. Meaningless howls and shouts would suddenly erupt from the rooms, all from hopeless drunks.
Thump~ crack~ creak~
The Hound had tried to tread as lightly as possible, but the stairs leading down to the first-floor tavern were more fragile than a dying old man's back. Every step made one wonder how much longer they could hold.
Fortunately, he made it down safely.
"Hey!" He shoved the young attendant sleeping like a dead pig behind the bar.
"I've got business outside. Get that damned front door open, now! Is this how you guard the place?!"
The attendant used all his strength just to force his eyelids open.
This little tavern was not prosperous enough to stay open all night. Like most of King's Landing, it rested in darkness.
Click. The iron lock on the front door came free.
"Have a safe trip, sir. Don't let the patrolling Gold Cloaks catch you."
The attendant, whose sweet dreams had been disturbed, did not dare curse the vicious-looking brute outright. He could only vent his resentment indirectly.
By the king's law, pedestrians were forbidden in King's Landing at night. Though the Gold Cloaks on night patrol were few and often lazy, getting caught by those greedy wild dogs would cost far more than a layer of skin.
The Hound could not be bothered to argue with the little brat. He strode into the cool air.