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You've seen better days, My Lord.
Another visit?
It seems you're my last friend.
No no, many still love you.
Sansa came to court this morning
to plead for your life.
On her knees, begging for me, hmmm.
Did you laugh with the others?
You do me wrong, My Lord.
Your blood is the last thing I want.
I don't know what you want.
I've given up trying to guess.
When I was still a boy
before they cut my balls off with a hot knife
I traveled with a group of actors through the free cities.
They taught me that each man has a role to play.
The same is true at court.
I am the master of whisperers.
My role is to be sly, obsequious and without scruples.
I'm a good actor, My Lord.
Huh. Can you free me from this pit?
I could.
But will I?
No.
As I said, I'm no hero.
What do you want? Tell me.
No riddles, no stories tell me, what do you want?
Peace.
Did you know that your son is marching south
with an army of Northmen? Loyal lad
fighting for his father's freedom.
Robb?
He's just a boy.
Boys have been conquerors before.
But the man giving Cersei sleepless nights
is the King's the late King's brother.
Lord Stannis has the best claim to the Throne,
he is a proven battle commander and he is utterly without mercy.
Stannis Baratheon is Robert's true heir.
The Throne is his by rights.
Tsk tsk. Sansa pleaded so sweetly for your life,
it would be a shame to throw it away.
Cersei is no fool.
She knows a tame wolf is more use to her than a dead one.
You want me to serve the woman who murdered my King,
who butchered my men, who crippled my son?
I want you to serve the realm!
Tell the Queen you will confess your vile treason,
tell your son to lay down his sword
and proclaim Joffrey as the true heir.
Cersei knows you as a man of honor.
If you give her the peace she needs
and promise to carry her secret to your grave,
I believe she will allow you to take the Black and live out your days
on the Wall with your brother and your *** son.
You think my life is some precious thing to me?
That I would trade my honor for a few more years of
Of what?
You grew up with actors.
You learned their craft and you learned it well.
But I grew up with soldiers.
I learned how to die a long time ago.
Pity.
Such a pity.
What of your daughter's life, My Lord?
Is that a precious thing to you?