[ He stops her before the full dip of her curtesy is complete and where Sansa would have scolded Jon Snow for interfering in these he did not understand — you are a bastard, you'll never be a lord; that is what Sansa would say and cruelly — Alayne simply stops and rises again to full height. Her brow pinches in brief confusion, her eyes (bright blue, Tully blue, her mother's eyes, the one thing Petyr had been unable to hide) search his face for understanding, but it doesn't come (not completely, anyway).
She nods and gestures him inside. The room is tidy and the walls are adorned with flowers that the Black boy had made grow out of paper and silk. One rose in particular hovers over her nightstand, just above her mockingbird pin; made of pink paper it blooms and withers with each morning and night. Now it seems to dwindle and droop, its petals losing some of its early morning vibrancy.
Beyond, on the bed, Lady dozes, snoring softly. ] You may.
action;
She nods and gestures him inside. The room is tidy and the walls are adorned with flowers that the Black boy had made grow out of paper and silk. One rose in particular hovers over her nightstand, just above her mockingbird pin; made of pink paper it blooms and withers with each morning and night. Now it seems to dwindle and droop, its petals losing some of its early morning vibrancy.
Beyond, on the bed, Lady dozes, snoring softly. ] You may.