Brothels make a much better investment than ships, I've found. Whores rarely sink.
— Oh. But Robert loves his killing. And he's the king.
— How did that ever happen?
— Because he loves his killing. And he used to be good at it.
— We still outnumber them.
— Which is the bigger number — five or one?
— Five.
— Five... One. One army — a real army united behind one leader with one purpose. Our purpose died with the Mad King. Now we've got as many armies as there are men with gold in their purse. And everybody wants something different. Your father wants to own the world. Ned Stark wants to run away and bury his head in the snow.
— And that's all the realm is now — backstabbing and scheming and arse-licking and money-grubbing. Sometimes I don't know what holds it together.
— Our marriage.
— Ah, so here we sit, 17 years later, holding it all together. Don't you get tired?
— Every day.
— How long can hate hold a thing together?
— Well, 17 years is quite a long time.
— What was she like?
— You've never asked about her, not once. Why not?
— At first, just saying her name even in private felt like I was breathing life back into her. I thought if I didn't talk about her, she'd just fade away for you. When I realized that wasn't going to happen, I refused to ask out of spite. I didn't want to give you the satisfaction of thinking I cared enough to ask. And eventually it became clear
that my spite didn't mean anything to you. As far as l couId tell,
you actually enjoyed it.
— So why now?
— What harm could Lyanna Stark's ghost do to either of us that we haven't done to each other a hundred times over?