"I can scarcely expect the Knight of Flowers to treat with Bronn or Shagga, can I?
The Tyrells are proud."
His sister wasted no time trying to twist the situation to her advantage.
"Ser Jacelyn Bywater is nobly born. Send him."
Tyrion shook his head.
"We need someone who can do more than repeat our words and fetch back a reply.
Our envoy must speak for king and council and settle the matter quickly."
"The Hand speaks with the king's voice."
Candlelight gleamed green as wildfire in Cersei's eyes.
"If we send you, Tyrion, it will be as if Joffrey went himself.
And who better, You wield words as skillfully as Jaime wields a sword."
Are you that eager to get me out of the city, Cersei?
"You are too kind, sister, but it seems to me that a boy's mother is better fitted to arrange his marriage than any uncle.
And you have a gift for winning friends that I could never hope to match."
Her eyes narrowed. "Joff needs me at his side."
"Your Grace, my lord Hand," said Littlefinger, "the king needs both of you here.
Let me go in your stead."
"You?" What gain does he see in this? Tyrion wondered.
"I am of the king's council, yet not the king's blood, so I would make a poor hostage.
I knew Ser Loras passing well when he was here at court, and gave him no cause to mislike me.
Mace Tyrell bears me no enmity that I know of, and I flatter myself that I am not unskilled in negotiation."
He has us. Tyrion did not trust Petyr Baelish, nor did he want the man out of his sight, yet what other choice was left him?
It must be Littlefinger or Tyrion himself, and he knew full well that if he left King's Landing for any length of time,
all that he had managed to accomplish would be undone.
"There is fighting between here and Bitterbridge," he said cautiously.
"And you can be past certain that Lord Stannis will be dispatching his own shepherds to gather in his brother's wayward lambs."