The girl slid the gilded sandals onto her feet, while the old woman fixed the tiara in her hair, and slid golden bracelets crusted with amethysts around her wrists. The hall was crowded and noisy when they entered, the cushions packed with those whose rank and name were not sufficient to allow them at the ceremony. She did not know what was more satisfying: the sound of a dozen swords drawn as one or the look on Tyrion Lannister's face. Preparations must be made.
It was to him that Bronn turned with a cursory salute. The Old Bear snorted. Lady Stark, Mya called across the gulf. Magister Illyrio had found her in a pleasure house in Lys.
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