Game of Thrones: I am Dothraki, not a barbarian

Chapter 223 The Life of a Little Devil

Hours later, the guards discovered Podrick's body. With irrefutable evidence, Tyrion Lannister had rescued Margaery. When the news reached Cersei, the Queen Mother's fury reached its peak.

“Tyrion!” she roared, “that little monster has betrayed the Lannisters!”

As dawn broke and war clouds hung over King's Landing, Tyrion, still half-asleep, was roughly dragged from his bed by Genos Slynt, who was wearing a golden robe. He was then bound hand and foot and led into the council chamber in a daze.

He finally came to his senses and looked around, but couldn't see Xueyi anywhere. He hadn't seen her in the bedroom this morning either.

Cersei sat in the queen's seat, her eyes filled with endless hatred, with Gregor Clegane standing behind her.

Upon seeing the Mountain's enormous figure, Tyrion's heart skipped a beat, and he knew something was wrong.

How did this beast end up here?

Cersei's long golden hair cascaded over her shoulders, her face ashen. "Margaery Tyrell," she said, emphasizing each word, "where is she?"

"What do you mean?" Tyrion frowned, looking completely bewildered. "How would I know where she is?"

"You're playing dumb!" Cersei jumped up, pointing angrily at the dwarf. "Last night she disappeared from the Great Sept of Baelor, and your squire Podrick was found dead there!"

"Podrick is dead?" Tyrion stared at her in shock. "How can this be? I was at..."

"Are you trying to say," Cersei interrupted him with a cold laugh, "that you spent the entire night in some whore's bed?"

"Yes!" Tyrion protested loudly. "I have no idea what happened! Sis, are you setting me up?"

Cersei gave a cold laugh and waved her hand.

Several men in golden robes carried in a stretcher covered with a white sheet. The men in golden robes tore off the white sheet, revealing Podrick's body.

The loyal boy lay there, pale-faced, with a deep sword wound on his neck.

Tyrion suddenly felt dizzy.

Podrick was so quiet, timid, and even stuttered a little when he spoke.

He was afraid of communicating with people, and when he spoke, he would always look down at other people's feet to hide his shyness, but in battle, he was exceptionally brave.

Now, he has become a corpse.

He is only twelve years old!

“Pod…” he murmured, “who killed him?”

“It was you!” Cersei pointed at him. “You sent him to save that bitch, and he got killed!”

Tyrion stared blankly at the corpse. "Impossible! Pod wouldn't do something so stupid!"

"The evidence is conclusive! And you still dare to try to deny it! Your servant is dead in the dungeon, and Margaret has disappeared. What other evidence do you want?"

"I've been framed; someone wants me dead."

"Framed?" Cersei scoffed. "Do you think I'd believe that?"

Tyrion thought of Littlefinger, looked up, and glanced around. "Is Lord Petyr here? Could you please call him? I have something to say to him!"

"Petty has gone to the Vale for reinforcements!" Cersei scoffed. "It was my order! Don't try to pin the blame on him!"

"Alas..." Tyrion closed his eyes in despair, "...I demand trial by combat!"

“Myrcella is dead,” Cersei suddenly changed the subject, her voice icy. “You sent her down that path, you killed her.”

Tyrion looked at her and suddenly understood everything.

This was not a trial, not even an interrogation. His sister had been looking for an opportunity to kill him, and today, that opportunity had arrived.

“It was you who sent the blood-drama troupe,” he said slowly. “It was you who sent people to kill her.”

“Shut up!” Cersei roared. “It was you who forced her to marry into Dorne, it was you who made her leave King’s Landing! It was you who made her leave my protection!”

"Ha, why don't you dare admit it?" Tyrion's voice was full of sarcasm. "Your blood-drama troupe killed your own daughter, yet you want to pin the blame on me?"

“Because you are the root of all this!” Cersei’s eyes blazed with madness. “You monster! Your very existence is a curse! From the day you were born, you have been killing our family!” A deep weariness washed over Tyrion.

He recalled his tragic life, how Cersei tormented him as a child, pinching his penis, squeezing him until he cried uncontrollably in the nursery, his mother's death at birth, and his father's cold gaze.

At the age of thirteen, he and James rescued a farm girl named Tessa from several bandits.

She seemed to have fallen in love with him, and they secretly married.

But the happiness only lasted for two weeks. When his father found out, he scolded him severely. James found an opportunity to secretly tell him that Tessa was actually a prostitute and that he had paid her to let him experience the pleasures of sex.

Then, her father had each of the guards take turns giving her a silver stag, and he was to go last, so he had to give her a gold dragon, because the Lannisters were very wealthy.

From then on, he understood.

No woman would truly love a monster like him.

Even Xueyi, the woman he thought truly cared for him, ultimately betrayed him.

“Yes,” he said softly, “I think you’re right.”

"You admit it?" Cersei revealed a venomous smile.

“I confess one thing,” Tyrion looked up at her, “my sin is being born a dwarf. I repent for it. No matter how many times you forgive me, I will continue to commit my sins.”

"What crime?"

“I didn’t kill Myrcella,” Tyrion’s voice grew louder, “but now I wish I had. I wish I could kill all of you! My only regret is that I can’t yet become the monster you imagine!”

Cersei's face turned ashen.

“This is not a judgment on my crimes,” Tyrion continued, his eyes flashing with madness. “My life has been a judgment on dwarfs!”

Tyrion thought of Tessa, of the soldiers, of being forced to watch that prostitute be violated, of his deformed body, and of the mocking faces on everyone's faces when they called him "Little Imp."

“Enough,” Cersei said coldly. “Since you’ve admitted you’re a monster, then die.”

She nodded to Gregor Clegane.

The Mountain strode forward, casting a huge shadow over Tyrion's head.

In his final moments, Tyrion looked toward the doorway, hoping to see Shae, but there was no one there.

Suddenly, the iron gate swung open with a bang, and James rushed in. He saw his brother being pinned to the ground, blood gushing from his neck.

“Cersei!” Jaime’s voice was filled with shock and pain. “What have you done!”

“He deserves to die.” Cersei’s face showed no remorse, only a morbid calm. “He killed our child.”

Jaime knelt beside Tyrion, watching Tyrion's life slip away before his eyes, and an endless pain welled up in his heart.

“I…I’m late,” he murmured.

“Jaime,” Tyrion coughed weakly, blood still gushing from his neck, “I want to ask you something…Tessa…is she really a prostitute? Did you really pay her to do it?”

Jaime froze, his eyes filled with pain and guilt. Tears began to stream down his face. "No! Tyrion, she isn't. She was never a prostitute."

"Hmm..." Tyrion's voice was barely audible.

“She truly loves you,” James said, weeping. “My father forced me to lie. She’s just a farm girl, but she truly loves you. I…I’m so sorry.”

A glint flashed in Tyrion's heterochromatic eyes, and a smile slowly appeared on his face.

It turned out to be the case.

He finally realized that someone in this world had truly loved him. Although Shae had betrayed him, at least in his life, there had been a woman who genuinely loved him!
“Thank you for telling me,” he said softly, then smiled and closed his eyes.

The smell of blood lingered in the air for a long time.

(End of this chapter)