— 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?
— Treason? Sansa wrote this?
— It is your sister's hand, but the queen's words. You are summoned to King's Landing to swear fealty to the new king.
— Joffrey puts my father in chains, now he wants his arse kissed?
— This is a royal command, my lord. If you should refuse to obey. . .
— I won't refuse. His Grace summons me to King's Landing, I'll go to King's Landing. But not alone. Call the banners.
— All of them, my lord? They've all sworn to defend my father, have they not?
— They have.
— Now we see what their words are worth.
— The grip must be delicate.
— What if I drop it?
— The steel must be part of your arm. Can you drop part of your arm? No.
— Very handsome armor. Not a scratch on it.
— I know. People have been swinging at me for years, but they always seem to miss.
— You've chosen your opponents wisely then.
— I have a knack for it.
Of all the thousand thousand maladies the gods visit on us... madness is the worst.