Ser Loras Tyrell. I've seen what happens to soft lordlings when they're put to work. Robb's tone was light and joking, yet Bran could tell that something was troubling his brother underneath the smile. Yet she liked them well enough; they had gotten her to Robb, as their father had vowed, and nothing else mattered.
She thought she could feel their eyes, like bugs crawling on her skin under her clothes. A hall to die in, and men to bury me. Father's mouth twitched strangely. Tyrion was thankful for that much, at least.
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