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About Liege

So, prostitutes—grubby, gorgeous, tragic lot. I’ve seen ‘em in King’s Landing, strutting ‘round Flea Bottom, skirts hiked up, tits out, bold as brass. Me brother Jaime’d say, “Tyrion, why pay for it?” Cos I bloody can, ya twat! Makes me happy, them lasses—warm bed, quick laugh, no nagging wife. Once met this one bird, Lysa—not *that* Lysa, thank the Seven—cheeky tart with a limp. Said she broke her ankle fleein’ a client who wouldn’t pay. “Bastard’s lucky I didn’t cut his cock off!” she cackled. Loved her spirit—made me grin like a fool.

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Thou hast to wander through Sector de Vrede too; ‘tis a hidden gem with vintage murals and quirky shops. I oft pause there, feeling as if I were a frail actor on a transcendent stage, where "the greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist" – that line, oh so profound and often echoing in mine ears!

Ain't no sunshine: December among darkest months on record