評論
打印
Tyrion had never quite gotten over the suspicion that his father had inflicted the boy on him as a joke.
提利昂始終懷疑父親之所以把這孩子交給他，根本是個惡意的玩笑。
Your garb, my lord, the boy mumbled when Tyrion entered, staring down at his boots. Even when he worked up the courage to speak, Pod could never quite manage to look at you. "For the audience. And your chain. The Hand's chain."
“大人，這是您的衣服，”提利昂一進門，男孩便垂下眼睛，視線盯著他的鞋子，囁嚅著說。波德就是沒辦法鼓起勇氣直視你。“待會兒接見客人要穿。還有您的項鏈，首相項鏈。”
Very good. Help me dress. The doublet was black velvet covered with golden studs in the shape of lions' heads, the chain a loop of solid gold hands, the fingers of each clasping the wrist of the next. Pod brought him a cloak of crimson silk fringed in gold, cut to his height. On a normal man, it would be no more than a half cape.
“很好，過來幫我穿衣服。”外衣是黑天鵝絨料子，上面輟滿了獅頭形狀的金色飾扣，那條項鏈則用只只實心金手串連而成，手指與手腕相扣。波德又為他披上一件深紅的絲質金邊披風，樣式特別為他裁制，若給一般人穿，大概只能算短披風。
The Hand's private audience chamber was not so large as the king's, nor a patch on the vastness of the throne room, but Tyrion liked its Myrish rugs, wall hangings, and sense of intimacy. As he entered, his steward cried out, "Tyrion Lannister, Hand of the King." He liked that too. The gaggle of smiths, armorers, and ironmongers that Bronn had collected fell to their knees.
首相的私人會客室比國王的小得多，自然更無法與王座廳相提并論，但提利昂喜歡其中的密爾地毯，墻壁上的掛飾，以及某種私密的氛圍。他剛進門，總管便喊：“恭迎國王之手提利昂·蘭尼斯特大人！”他也喜歡這種感覺。波隆聚集的這群鐵匠、武器師和五金商人一聽紛紛跪下。
He hoisted himself up into the high seat under the round golden window and bid them rise. "Goodman, I know you are all busy, so I will be succinct. Pod, if you please." The boy handed him a canvas sack. Tyrion yanked the drawstring and upended the bag. Its contents spilled onto the rug with a muffled thunk of metal on wool.
他爬上金色圓窗下的那張高位，示意他們起身，“各位師傅，我知你們事務繁忙，所以也不多廢話。波德，麻煩你。”男孩遞來一個帆布袋，提利昂拉開束帶，將袋子里的東西倒出，金屬在毛毯上發出模糊的“咚”地一聲。
