Entering the magnificent Great Devil, Camila looked around with admiration.
The room was spacious: it could easily accommodate more than a thousand people. Along the walls there were long wooden tables, breaking from all kinds of dishes. What wasn't there? The cooks of the Red Castle worked for fame! The traditional dishes of King's Landing were presented, such as venison soup, quail under oil sauce, baked trout and almonds, as well as more delicious for these places: stuffed grape leaves, ducks with lemons, snails in honey. In addition, the tables were full of all kinds of sweets and fruits. For the girl from behind the Wall all this was a miracle, as many meals she saw for the first time, and even the festive meal of the Free people was many times more scarce than what appeared in the young Kamila's eyes here in the palace.
The girl immediately noticed the baskets with blueberry stuffing, they looked very appetizing. And how much wine was there! Arbor, Dornian and Amber from the Summer Islands are rare even in King's Landing!
While Damione's companion was looking at the rich decoration, the young man, pinching his eyes, looked around carefully.
- Damion! - He heard a husky voice. Turning to the shouting, the young man saw the Hand approaching them, and next to him an old blonde woman, not inferior to the tallest man in the hall. As Tyrion approached the young men, he introduced his companion.
- Allow me to introduce you to Lady Brienne Tart.
Damion was about to say something, but did not have time to say it. The woman, with tears in her eyes, clenched him in her arms. Kamila looked at the scene with her eyes wide open, and she was not the only one. People standing nearby were also looking at Brienne and Damion with undisguised surprise. Finally, having withdrawn from Jon Snow's son, Brienne looked into his gray eyes and smiled with a very kind, warm smile.
- Lord Damion! I am very pleased to meet you. - Then she turned to the redheaded girl and took her fragile hands into her strong hands.
- You must be Tormund's daughter. - Camila looked uncertainly at Damion as if she were asking permission. He nodded, smiling slightly at her.
- Yes, Milady. My father is Tormund the Great Death. Do you know him? - Questioningly bent her eyebrows, the girl asked.
- We fought with him and your people against the White Walkers. - The Lady Knight's eyes were darkened by the flashbacks.
- I am sorry to distract you, - the stuttering and uncertain voice was heard.
It belonged to a very obese man. Samuel Tarley had never been skinny or slender, and over the years he had grown even fatter.
Years had also left a mark on his childish, round face. Once alive, shiny eyes were extinguished, they were blindfolded and Maester's eyesight deteriorated. His head shone with baldness, and his gray hair could only be seen above his small ears and on the back of his head.
When Damion saw a man approaching them, he got all tense. Camila, feeling how much the mood had changed, took him by the hand, which he immediately squeezed with force. Tarly's eldest was squeezing himself together as if he were waiting for a blow, and quickly slammed his eyes with tears.
- Is there something you want to tell me? - Damion asked sharply, frowning very frowningly.
His gaze was so contemptuous that Maester had literally grown into a place.
- I. I just... I wanted to pay my respects to John's son. He was my best friend.
- A friend? - Damion's thick eyebrows are questioningly curved. - What do you know about friendship, Samwell Tarley? Where were you when my father was expelled? Why didn't you support him at the time? You cowardly hid your ass in the tower and put on old books, pretending it was none of your business.
The young man's voice broke, and he stopped talking.
Sam blushed thickly and his lips trembled. He took out his grey coat and wiped out his sweaty forehead in a hurry.
- Damion! - Sam continued with a trembling voice, but he hadn't had time to finish the sentence.
Somewhere there was a rumble and all eyes rushed to the source of the noise. It turned out that two young people, drunk enough, had torn down the table on which there were jugs of wine and a few bronze cups.
- Hey, Rodrik! Look at the fat guy, - said Edric Baratheon, - without hesitation. - It's John Tarley, himself. He's fatter than I've ever seen him before. He also wants the attention of beautiful girls, - the young man did not hesitate.