[ Alayne watches as Lord Stannis grinds his teeth, her eyes landing on the exact spot where his left jaw hinges from side to side. Did Sansa ever know a man of the same manner? She cannot recall and so is left uncertain as to what such a grinding of teeth means. (Perhaps he lies and thinks her unfaithful. Perhaps his mind says one thing and his gut another and that grinding helps forge the diference. But no — that did not sit well with Lord Stannis' character. He was a man of justice, not gut, not lies.)
He claims to believe her and Alayne has no choice to believe him in kind.
She bows low now, lower than she ever has to him in the past. ] Thank you, Your Grace. [ It is not a matter of thanks, of course. Perhaps Lord Stannis would go as far as to remind her as much. Still, courtesies are courtesies. ]
May I ask, Your Grace, what is to become of me?
[ What is to become of the truth is a more accurate question. ]
[ What is to become of her? Aboard this vessel, there was little to be done, was there not? There was no Iron Throne (no war, perhaps, for there were none to fight it). Still... ]
I would find you a more suitable husband than Tyrion Lannister, my lady. [ a slight pause, and perhaps as an afterthought... ]
And a more trustworthy guardian than Lord Petyr Baelish.
[ Eager comes her reply, too eager perhaps to a wary eye. ] Lord Baelish saved me from great treachery, [ Alayne says, dipping her head as if some physical show of obeisance would counter the defiance in her words. ] Would it be not for his grace and sacrifice, my head would decorate the walls of the Red Keep. It would be ungrateful of me to return such favor with suspicion, Your Grace.
[ Perhaps the truth was evident to Lord Stannis, but it seemed less so to Alayne. For despite the quick clip of her words, there was earnestness there in her voice as well. Genuine gratitude and something else, perhaps. Something more profound, like loyalty or love. ] Time and again, he has protected me.
[ His words are blunt, and he lacks tact. Yet, he can never bring himself to soften them, not even for a young maid. ]
Your trust is misplaced.
[ He does not pretend to comprehend her odd maner of affection, and nor does he care. It seems far too simple to him. Petyr Baelish always had some motive behind each action, something that would benefit that game he had been so fond of.
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( video | same encryption )
He claims to believe her and Alayne has no choice to believe him in kind.
She bows low now, lower than she ever has to him in the past. ] Thank you, Your Grace. [ It is not a matter of thanks, of course. Perhaps Lord Stannis would go as far as to remind her as much. Still, courtesies are courtesies. ]
May I ask, Your Grace, what is to become of me?
[ What is to become of the truth is a more accurate question. ]
( video | same encryption )
I would find you a more suitable husband than Tyrion Lannister, my lady. [ a slight pause, and perhaps as an afterthought... ]
And a more trustworthy guardian than Lord Petyr Baelish.
[ Yet that should have been evident. ]
( video | same encryption )
[ Perhaps the truth was evident to Lord Stannis, but it seemed less so to Alayne. For despite the quick clip of her words, there was earnestness there in her voice as well. Genuine gratitude and something else, perhaps. Something more profound, like loyalty or love. ] Time and again, he has protected me.
There are few I trust more.
( video | same encryption )
Your trust is misplaced.
[ He does not pretend to comprehend her odd maner of affection, and nor does he care. It seems far too simple to him. Petyr Baelish always had some motive behind each action, something that would benefit that game he had been so fond of.
And Stannis would not trust him. ]