A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

autumn sunlight shining on her golden hair. Whatever else one might say about his sister, she did know how to make men love her when she cared enough to try.
    As Jaime trotted through the castle gates, he came upon two dozen knights riding at a quintain in the outer yard.
Something else I can no longer do,
he thought. A lance was heavier and more cumbersome than a sword, and swords were proving trial enough. He supposed he might try holding the lance with his left hand, but that would mean shifting his shield to his right arm. In a tilt, a man’s foe was always to the left. A shield on his right arm would prove about as useful as nipples on his breastplate.
No, my jousting days are done,
he thought as he dismounted . . . but all the same, he stopped to watch awhile.
    Ser Tallad the Tall lost his mount when the sandbag came around and thumped him in the head. Strongboar struck the shield so hard he cracked it. Kennos of Kayce finished the destruction. A new shield was hung for Ser Dermot of the Rainwood. Lambert Turnberry only struck a glancing blow, but Beardless Jon Bettley, Humfrey Swyft, and Alyn Stackspear all scored solid hits, and Red Ronnet Connington broke his lance clean. Then the Knight of Flowers mounted up and put the others all to shame.
    Jousting was three-quarters horsemanship, Jaime had always believed. Ser Loras rode superbly, and handled a lance as if he’d been born holding one . . . which no doubt accounted for his mother’s pinched expression.
He puts the point just where he means to put it, and seems to have the balance of a cat. Perhaps it was not such a fluke that he unhorsed me.
It was a shame that he would never have the chance to try the boy again. He left the whole men to their sport.
    Cersei was in her solar in Maegor’s Holdfast, with Tommen and Lord Merryweather’s dark-haired Myrish wife. The three of them were laughing at Grand Maester Pycelle. “Did I miss some clever jape?” Jaime said, as he shoved through the door.
    â€œOh, look,” purred Lady Merryweather, “your brave brother has returned, Your Grace.”
    â€œMost of him.” The queen was in her cups, Jaime realized. Of late, Cersei always seemed to have a flagon of wine to hand, she who had once scorned Robert Baratheon for his drinking. He misliked that, but these days he seemed to mislike everything his sister did. “Grand Maester,” she said, “share the tidings with the Lord Commander, if you would.”
    Pycelle looked desperately uncomfortable. “There has been a bird,” he said. “From Stokeworth. Lady Tanda sends word that her daughter Lollys has been delivered of a strong, healthy son.”
    â€œAnd you will never guess what they have named the little bastard, brother.”
    â€œThey wanted to name him Tywin, I recall.”
    â€œYes, but I forbade it. I told Falyse that I would not have our father’s noble name bestowed upon the ill-gotten spawn of some pig boy and a feeble-witted sow.”
    â€œLady Stokeworth insists the child’s name was not her doing,” Grand Maester Pycelle put in. Perspiration dotted his wrinkled forehead. “Lollys’s husband made the choice, she writes. This man Bronn, he . . . it would seem that he . . .”
    â€œTyrion,” ventured Jaime. “He named the child
Tyrion.
”
    The old man gave a tremulous nod, mopping at his brow with the sleeve of his robe.
    Jaime had to laugh. “There you are, sweet sister. You have been looking everywhere for Tyrion, and all the time he’s been hiding in Lollys’s womb.”
    â€œDroll. You and Bronn are both so droll. No doubt the bastard is sucking on one of Lollys Lackwit’s dugs even as we speak, whilst this sellsword looks on, smirking at his little insolence.”
    â€œPerhaps this child bears some resemblance to your brother,” suggested Lady Merryweather. “He might have been born deformed, or without a nose.” She laughed a throaty laugh.
    â€œWe shall have to send the darling boy a gift,” the queen declared. “Won’t we, Tommen?”
    â€œWe could send him a kitten.”
    â€œA lion cub,” said Lady Merryweather.
To rip his little throat out,
her smile suggested.
    â€œI had a different sort of gift in mind,” said Cersei.
    A new stepfather, most like.
Jaime knew the look in his sister’s eyes. He had seen it before, most recently on the night of Tommen’s wedding,