-
Your Grace.
-
Lord Baelish.
-
All of these tents look the same to me.
-
- Would you be so kind... - It would be my pleasure.
-
It took me weeks to learn my way around the camp.
-
Twice I walked in on officers in stages of undress.
-
And the moment I learn which tent is mine,
-
we're on the move again.
-
Your tent?
-
Not our tent?
-
The king snores, perhaps?
-
Or simply prefers solitude?