As Tyrion left Maegor's Holdfast, he ran into Joffrey, who had also come to visit Sansa. These days, Joffrey hoped every day that her first flowering would come soon so he could marry her.
"Oh, isn't this my dear uncle?" A trace of mockery sharpened Joffrey's shrill voice.
Two white-cloaked Kingsguard followed behind him: Meryn Trant and Mandon Moore. The latter was the man who had ambushed Tyrion during the Battle of the Blackwater in the original story.
There was also a dog from the Westerlands: the Hound, Sandor Clegane.
King's Landing was unsafe now, and Joffrey was a restless boy who liked to run about, so Cersei had sent her own guard, the Hound, to protect him as well.
After all, in Cersei's eyes, Jaime was the only one of the current white-cloaked knights who measured up. None of the others could put her at ease, whether in terms of fighting prowess or character.
"What are you doing here? You monster, don't tell me you've come to see my betrothed?" At first, Joffrey had only meant to mock Tyrion, but then he suddenly remembered that this was where Sansa lived. His expression darkened at once.
At Joffrey's question, Tyrion stopped and narrowed his eyes slightly at his nephew. He could not help thinking how much the boy resembled Cersei.
"Your Grace." His distraction lasted only a moment before he bowed slightly, paying no heed to Joffrey's ugly expression.
"Yes, I came to see Lady Stark," he said evenly, "to make sure she remains safe and well in these troubled times. After all, she is your future queen."
Joffrey flew into a rage. He stepped forward, seized Tyrion by the collar, and glared down at him. "What business is it of yours whether she's safe? I think you have other