"The council must issue an edict. Any man heard speaking of incest or calling Joff a bastard should lose his tongue for it."
"A prudent measure," said Grand Maester Pycelle, his chain of office clinking as he nodded.
"A folly," sighed Tyrion. "When you tear out a man's tongue, you are not proving him a liar, you're only telling the world that you fear what he might say."
"So what would you have us do?" his sister demanded.
"Very little. Let them whisper, they'll grow bored with the tale soon enough. Any man with a thimble of sense will see it for a clumsy attempt to justify usurping the crown. Does Stannis offer proof? How could he, when it never happened?" Tyrion gave his sister his sweetest smile.
"That's so," she had to say. "Still..."
"Your Grace, your brother has the right of this." Petyr Baelish steepled his fingers. "If we attempt to silence this talk, we only lend it credence. Better to treat it with contempt, like the pathetic lie it is."
--- A Song of Sex and Blood