A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

sorry,” Tommen wept. “I will do better on the morrow. Mother says a king must show the way, but the smell made me sick.”
    This will not do. Too many eager ears and watching eyes.
“Best we go outside, Your Grace.” Jaime led the boy out to where the air was as fresh and clean as King’s Landing ever got. Twoscore gold cloaks had been posted around the plaza to guard the horses and the litters. He took the king off to the side, well away from everyone, and sat him down upon the marble steps. “I wasn’t scared,” the boy insisted. “The smell made me sick. Didn’t it make you sick? How could you bear it, Uncle, ser?”
    I have smelled my own hand rotting, when Vargo Hoat made me wear it for a pendant.
“A man can bear most anything, if he must,” Jaime told his son.
I have smelled a man roasting, as King Aerys cooked him in his own armor.
“The world is full of horrors, Tommen. You can fight them, or laugh at them, or look without seeing . . . go away inside.”
    Tommen considered that. “I . . . I used to go away inside sometimes,” he confessed, “when Joffy . . .”
    â€œJoffrey.”
Cersei stood over them, the wind whipping her skirts around her legs. “Your brother’s name was
Joffrey.
He would never have shamed me so.”
    â€œI never meant to. I wasn’t frightened, Mother. It was only that your lord father smelled so bad . . .”
    â€œDo you think he smelled any sweeter to me? I have a nose too.” She caught his ear and pulled him to his feet. “Lord Tyrell has a nose. Did you see him retching in the holy sept? Did you see Lady Margaery bawling like a baby?”
    Jaime got to his feet. “Cersei, enough.”
    Her nostrils flared. “Ser? Why are you here? You swore to stand vigil over Father until the wake was done, as I recall.”
    â€œIt
is
done. Go look at him.”
    â€œNo. Seven days and seven nights, you said. Surely the Lord Commander remembers how to count to seven. Take the number of your fingers, then add two.”
    Others had begun to stream out onto the plaza, fleeing the noxious odors in the sept. “Cersei, keep your voice down,” Jaime warned. “Lord Tyrell is approaching.”
    That reached her. The queen drew Tommen to her side. Mace Tyrell bowed before them. “His Grace is not unwell, I hope?”
    â€œThe king was overwhelmed by grief,” said Cersei.
    â€œAs are we all. If there is aught that I can do . . .”
    High above, a crow screamed loudly. He was perched on the statue of King Baelor, shitting on his holy head. “There is much and more you can do for Tommen, my lord,” Jaime said. “Perhaps you would do Her Grace the honor of supping with her, after the evening services?”
    Cersei threw him a withering look, but for once she had the sense to bite her tongue.
    â€œSup?” Tyrell seemed taken aback. “I suppose . . . of course, we should be honored. My lady wife and I.”
    The queen forced a smile and made pleasant noises. But when Tyrell had taken his leave and Tommen had been sent off with Ser Addam Marbrand, she turned on Jaime angrily. “Are you drunk or dreaming, ser? Pray tell, why am I having supper with that grasping fool and his puerile wife?” A gust of wind stirred her golden hair. “I will
not
name him Hand, if that’s what—”
    â€œYou need Tyrell,” Jaime broke in, “but not
here
. Ask him to capture Storm’s End for Tommen. Flatter him, and tell him you need him in the field, to replace Father. Mace fancies himself a mighty warrior. Either he will deliver Storm’s End to you, or he will muck it up and look a fool. Either way, you win.”
    â€œStorm’s End?” Cersei looked thoughtful. “Yes, but . . . Lord Tyrell has made it tediously plain that he will not leave King’s Landing till Tommen marries Margaery.”
    Jaime sighed. “Then let them wed. It will be years before Tommen is old enough to consummate the marriage. And until he does, the union can always be set aside. Give Tyrell his wedding and send him off to play at war.”
    A wary smile crept across his sister’s face. “Even sieges have their dangers,” she murmured. “Why, our Lord of Highgarden might even lose his life in such a venture.”
    â€œThere is that risk,” conceded Jaime. “Especially if his patience runs thin this time,