A serving boy ran back and forth with skewers of meat while Masha drew beer from the kegs, chewing her sourleaf all the while. From every rampart waved the banner of House Tully: a leaping trout, silver, against a rippling blue-and-red field. The helm turned his laugh into a hollow rumble. Clearly there was more to this than the seeming.
Imp, Lysa said coldly, you will guard that mocking tongue of yours and speak to my son politely, or I promise you will have cause to regret it. Shae was shaking him by the shoulder. When the king did not answer, he said, Tell me about Jon. Until you find a partner, watch how they fight in the yard.
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