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Dontos
chuckled
.
"
My
Jonquil
’
s
a
clever
girl
,
isn
’
t
she
?
"
"
Joffrey
and
his
mother
say
I
’
m
stupid
.
"
"
Let
them
.
You
’
re
safer
that
way
,
sweetling
.
Queen
Cersei
and
the
Imp
and
Lord
Varys
and
their
like
,
they
all
watch
each
other
keen
as
hawks
,
and
pay
this
one
and
that
one
to
spy
out
what
the
others
are
doing
,
but
no
one
ever
troubles
themselves
about
Lady
Tanda
’
s
daughter
,
do
they
?
"
Dontos
covered
his
mouth
to
stifle
a
burp
.
"
Gods
preserve
you
,
my
little
Jonquil
.
"
He
was
growing
weepy
.
The
wine
did
that
to
him
.
"
Give
your
Florian
a
little
kiss
now
.
A
kiss
for
luck
.
"
He
swayed
toward
her
.
Sansa
dodged
the
wet
groping
lips
,
kissed
him
lightly
on
an
unshaven
cheek
,
and
bid
him
good
night
.
It
took
all
her
strength
not
to
weep
.
She
had
been
weeping
too
much
of
late
.
It
was
unseemly
,
she
knew
,
but
she
could
not
seem
to
help
herself
;
the
tears
would
come
,
sometimes
over
a
trifle
,
and
nothing
she
did
could
hold
them
back
.
The
drawbridge
to
Maegor
’
s
Holdfast
was
unguarded
.
The
Imp
had
moved
most
of
the
gold
cloaks
to
the
city
walls
,
and
the
white
knights
of
the
Kingsguard
had
duties
more
important
than
dogging
her
heels
.
Sansa
could
go
where
she
would
so
long
as
she
did
not
try
to
leave
the
castle
,
but
there
was
nowhere
she
wanted
to
go
.
She
crossed
over
the
dry
moat
with
its
cruel
iron
spikes
and
made
her
way
up
the
narrow
turnpike
stair
,
but
when
she
reached
the
door
of
her
bedchamber
she
could
not
bear
to
enter
.
The
very
walls
of
the
room
made
her
feel
trapped
;
even
with
the
window
opened
wide
it
felt
as
though
there
were
no
air
to
breathe
.
Turning
back
to
the
stair
,
Sansa
climbed
.
The
smoke
blotted
out
the
stars
and
the
thin
crescent
of
moon
,
so
the
roof
was
dark
and
thick
with
shadows
.
Yet
from
here
she
could
see
everything
:
the
Red
Keep
’
s
tall
towers
and
great
corner
-
forts
,
the
maze
of
city
streets
beyond
,
to
south
and
west
the
river
running
black
,
the
bay
to
the
east
,
the
columns
of
smoke
and
cinders
,
and
fires
,
fires
everywhere
.
Soldiers
crawled
over
the
city
walls
like
ants
with
torches
,
and
crowded
the
hoardings
that
had
sprouted
from
the
ramparts
.
Down
by
the
Mud
Gate
,
outlined
against
the
drifting
smoke
,
she
could
make
out
the
vague
shape
of
the
three
huge
catapults
,
the
biggest
anyone
had
ever
seen
,
overtopping
the
walls
by
a
good
twenty
feet
.
Yet
none
of
it
made
her
feel
less
fearful
.
A
stab
went
through
her
,
so
sharp
that
Sansa
sobbed
and
clutched
at
her
belly
.
She
might
have
fallen
,
but
a
shadow
moved
suddenly
,
and
strong
fingers
grabbed
her
arm
and
steadied
her
.
She
grabbed
a
merlon
for
support
,
her
fingers
scrabbling
at
the
rough
stone
.
"
Let
go
of
me
,
"
she
cried
.
"
Let
go
.
"
"
The
little
bird
thinks
she
has
wings
,
does
she
?
Or
do
you
mean
to
end
up
crippled
like
that
brother
of
yours
?
"
