It would not do to offend the council before he had even begun. Once Grand Maester Pycelle came with a box of flasks and bottles, to ask if she was ill. There was always mint growing in the godswood, and Petyr had liked to chew it. North, where the valley narrowed and bent like a cocked elbow, Lord Karstark's warhorns added their own deep, mournful voices to the dark chorus.
The petitioners clustered near the tall doors, the knights and high lords and ladies beneath the tapestries, the smallfolk in the gallery, the mailed guards in their cloaks, gold or grey: all stood. His hand curled around the smooth dragonbone hilt, and he slammed the blade into the table, felt it bite into the wood. He had grey-green eyes that did not smile when his mouth did. Ned regarded him coldly.
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