It is better than the songs, she whispered when they found the places that her father had promised her, among the high lords and ladies. I could do just as good as Bran, she said. There were only fifty of them, so most of the benches were empty. There was no denying the heat; Ned could feel the silk tunic clinging to his chest.
It would not do to offend the council before he had even begun. Only she had never let herself say the words, even in a whisper, but now she said them for Jorah Mormont and all the world to hear. And then Mirri Maz Duur was there, the maegi, tipping a cup against her lips. A very ambitious family, Ned thought.
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