Janos Slynt was a butcher's son, and he laughed like a man chopping meat. "More wine?" Tyrion asked him.
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"I should not object," Lord Janos said, holding out his cup. He was built like a keg, and had a similar capacity. "I should not object at all. That's a fine red. From the Arbor?"
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"Dornish." Tyrion gestured, and his serving man poured. But for the servants, he and Lord Janos were alone in the Small Hall, at a small candlelit table surrounded by darkness. "Quite the find. Dornish wines are not often so rich."
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第八章: 提利昂 Tyrion
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