A Game of Thrones 4-Book Bundle

dryly.
“Doubtless Stannis sent a bird to Casterly Rock, and another to Harrenhal. As
for burning the letters, to what point? The song is sung, the wine is spilled,
the wench is pregnant. And this is not as dire as it seems, in
truth.”
    Cersei turned on him in green-eyed fury. “Are you utterly witless? Did you
read what he says?
The boy Joffrey,
he calls

him. And he dares to accuse
me
of incest, adultery, and
treason!”
    Only because you’re guilty.
It was astonishing to see how angry
Cersei could wax over accusations she knew perfectly well to be true.
If
we lose the war, she ought to take up mummery, she has a gift for it.
Tyrion waited until she was done and said, “Stannis must have some pretext to
justify his rebellion. What did you expect him to write? ‘Joffrey is my
brother’s trueborn son and heir, but I mean to take his throne for all that’?”
    â€œI will not suffer to be called a whore!”
    Why, sister, he never claims Jaime paid you.
Tyrion made a show of
glancing over the writing again. There had been some niggling
phrase . . . “Done in the Light of the Lord,” he read. “A queer
choice of words, that.”
    Pycelle cleared his throat. “These words often appear in letters and documents
from the Free Cities. They mean no more than, let us say,
written in the
sight of god.
The god of the red priests. It is their usage, I do
believe.”
    â€œVarys told us some years past that Lady Selyse had taken up with a red
priest,” Littlefinger reminded them.
    Tyrion tapped the paper. “And now it would seem her lord husband has done the
same. We can use that against him. Urge the High Septon to reveal how Stannis
has turned against the gods as well as his rightful
king . . .”
    â€œYes, yes,” the queen said impatiently, “but first we must stop this filth
from spreading further. The council must issue an edict. Any man heard speaking
of incest or calling Joff a bastard

should lose his tongue for it.”
    â€œA prudent measure,” said Grand Maester Pycelle, his chain of office clinking
as he nodded.
    â€œA folly,” sighed Tyrion. “When you tear out a man’s tongue, you are not
proving him a liar, you’re only telling the world that you fear what he might
say.”
    â€œSo what would
you
have us do?” his sister demanded.
    â€œVery little. Let them whisper, they’ll grow bored with the tale soon enough.
Any man with a thimble of sense will see it for a clumsy attempt to justify
usurping the crown. Does Stannis offer proof? How could he, when it never
happened?” Tyrion gave his sister his sweetest smile.
    â€œThat’s so,” she had to say. “Still . . .”
    â€œYour Grace, your brother has the right of this.” Petyr Baelish steepled his
fingers. “If we attempt to silence this talk, we only lend it credence. Better
to treat it with contempt, like the pathetic lie it is. And meantime, fight
fire with fire.”
    Cersei gave him a measuring look. “What sort of fire?”
    â€œA tale of somewhat the same nature, perhaps. But more easily believed. Lord
Stannis has spent most of his marriage apart from his wife. Not that I fault
him, I’d do the same were I married to Lady Selyse. Nonetheless, if we put it
about that her daughter is baseborn and Stannis a cuckold,
well . . . the smallfolk are always eager to believe the worst
of their lords, particularly those as stern, sour, and prickly proud as Stannis
Baratheon.”
    â€œHe has never been much loved, that’s true.” Cersei

considered a moment. “So we pay him back in his own coin. Yes, I like this.
Who can we name as Lady Selyse’s lover? She has two brothers, I believe. And
one of her uncles has been with her on Dragonstone all this
time . . .”
    â€œSer Axell Florent is her castellan.” Loath as Tyrion was to admit it,
Littlefinger’s scheme had promise. Stannis had never been enamored of his wife,
but he was bristly as a hedgehog where his honor was concerned and mistrustful
by nature. If they could sow discord between him and his followers, it could
only help their cause. “The child has the Florent ears, I’m told.”
    Littlefinger gestured languidly. “A trade envoy from Lys once observed to me
that Lord Stannis must love his daughter very well, since