Bran was almost afraid to sit to supper that night, but when he did, it was pigeon pie they set before him.

当晚，布兰简直不敢去出席晚宴，但当他终于去了，却发现人们早把鸽子派摆在了他位子上。

Everyone else was served the same, and he couldn't see that anything was wrong with the food they served the Walders.

在坐人人一份，而他实在看不出瓦德们所吃的有什么特别。

Maester Luwin has the truth of it, he told himself.

鲁温师傅果然是对的，他告诉自己。

Nothing bad was coming to Winterfell, no matter what Jojen said.

不管玖健说过什么，没有任何坏事会降临到临冬城。

Bran was relieved... but disappointed too.

布兰松了一口气……却也竟有几分失望。

So long as there was magic, anything could happen.

如果世上真有魔法存在，那就意味着什么事都可能发生。

Ghosts could walk, trees could talk, and broken boys could grow up to be knights.

幽灵能走路，大树会说话，残废的男孩也一定能重新站起来当骑士。

"But there isn't," he said aloud in the darkness of his bed.

“但那是办不到的，”躺在床上，在无边的黑暗之中，他大声地说，

"There's no magic, and the stories are just stories."

“世上没有魔法了，所有的故事都只是故事。”

And he would never walk, nor fly, nor be a knight.

所以他不能走路，不能飞翔，永远也做不了骑士。

TYRION

提利昂

The rushes were scratchy under the soles of his bare feet.

草席刺得他赤裸的脚底发痒。

"My cousin chooses a queer hour to come visiting,"

“堂弟真会挑时机，”

Tyrion told a sleep-befuddled Podrick Payne, who'd doubtless expected to be well roasted for waking him.

提利昂告诉睡得迷迷糊糊的波德瑞克·派恩，这孩子无疑以为深夜唤醒他，会遭一顿训斥。

"See him to my solar and tell him I'll be down shortly."

“带他到书房，告诉他，我马上下来。”

It was well past midnight, he judged from the black outside the window.

从窗外的天色判断，应该过了午夜时分。

Does Lancel think to find me drowsy and slow of wit at this hour? he wondered.

莫非蓝赛尔以为这时候我就会迷迷糊糊，反应迟钝么？他心里盘算。

No, Lancel scarce thinks at all, this is Cersei's doing.

不，蓝赛尔根本不动脑子，这一定是瑟曦的主意。

His sister would be disappointed.

可惜，老姐要失望了。

Even abed, he worked well into the morning—reading by the flickering light of a candle,

他每晚都把工作带到床上，一直干到凌晨——在摇曳的烛光下，

scrutinizing the reports of Varys's whisperers, and poring over Littlefinger's books of accounts until the columns blurred and his eyes ached.

仔细审查瓦里斯的秘密报告，查阅小指头的账簿，直到眼睛发疼，字迹模糊为止。

He splashed some tepid water on his face from the basin beside his bed and took his time squatting in the garderobe,

他用床边脸盆里的温水湿了湿脸，不紧不慢地蹲在厕所，

the night air cold on his bare skin.

夜间的空气让他裸露的皮肤有些凉。

Ser Lancel was sixteen, and not known for his patience.

蓝赛尔爵士年方十六，从没什么耐性，

Let him wait, and grow more anxious in the waiting.

就让他等着吧，他会越来越焦躁。

When his bowels were empty, Tyrion slipped on a bedrobe and roughed his thin flaxen hair with his fingers,

提利昂清空肠子，套上一件睡袍，并用手指将稀疏的亚麻色头发揉乱，

all the more to look as if he had wakened from sleep.

好让自己看上去像是刚刚醒来。

Lancel was pacing before the ashes of the hearth, garbed in slashed red velvet with black silk undersleeves,

蓝赛尔在烧成灰烬的壁炉前踱步，身穿有黑丝绸内袖的红天鹅绒斜纹外衣，

a jeweled dagger and a gilded scabbard hanging from his swordbelt.

佩一柄镶珠宝的匕首，刀鞘镀金。