“Perhaps the dagger will please him more.” When the dwarf grimaced, his scar tightened and twisted. “The boy’s

earned himself a dagger, wouldn’t you say?” Thankfully Tyrion did not wait for her reply. “Joff quarreled with your brother Robb at Winterfell. Tell me, was there

ill feeling between Bran and His Grace as well?” “Bran?” The question confused her. “Before he fell, you mean?” She had to try and think back. It was all so

long ago. “Bran was a sweet boy. Everyone loved him. He and Tommen fought with wooden swords, I remember, but just for play.” Tyrion lapsed back into moody

silence. Sansa heard the distant clank of chains from outside; the portcullis was being drawn up. A moment later there was a shout, and their litter swayed into

motion. Deprived of the passing scenery, she chose to stare at her folded hands, uncomfortably aware of her husand’s mismatched eyes. Why is he looking at me that

way? “You loved your brothers, much as I love Jaime.” Is this some Lannister trap to make me speak treason? “My brothers were traitors, and they’ve gone to

traitors’ graves. It is.” Her little husband snorted. “Robb rose in arms against his rightful king. By law, that made him a traitor. The

others died too young to know what treason was.” He rubbed his nose. “Sansa, do you know what happened to Bran at Winterfell?” “Bran fell. He was always climbing

things, and finally he fell. We always feared he would. And Theon Greyjoy killed him, but that was later.” “Theon Greyjoy.” Tyrion sighed. “Your lady mother once

accused me... well, I will not burden you with the ugly details. She accused me falsely. I never harmed your brother Bran. And I mean no harm to you.” What does he

want me to say? “That is good to know, my lord.” He wanted something from her, but Sansa did not know what it was. He looks like a starving child, but I have no

food to give him. Why won’t he leave me be a police shieldcould hold me upside down and drainmy gutschange your mind
?