The second son of the Great Maester was very much like his father when he was young. He was as full and clumsy as he was. At the moment, he was trying to get some attention from the Northern Princess - Katielyn Arryn, although it looked, indeed, a little funny and clumsy. In addition to the son of the Grand Maester, near the girl was also Lothar Tully. This young man was clearly more pleasant appearance, at least he seemed slim, tightened, and his eyes were serious and meaningful.
The increased attention to the Queen of the North's Daughter was not surprising. The beauty of Katielyn couldn't shackle the eyes of men to herself, and today the girl clearly prepared herself by wearing her best violet dress with a very brave neckline and wide sleeves, embroidered with gilded threads and inlaid with magic and turquoise. And without that narrow waist was emphasized by a belt of brocade, which depicted the family symbols of the Great House of her parents. The girl's fiery hair was styled upstairs and fixed with gold studs in her elaborate hair, opening her long, thin neck, which only added to the temptation of her mistress.
The young lady presented her gentlemen with a polite smile and nodded at their lines, without expressing any particular interest in any of them.
Her half-open chest lured the young men, who were not even experienced in the hearts of the youngsters, to excite their imagination. Communicating with the girl, the views of the lords surrounding her were slipping over the white skin, and they found it difficult to follow the thread of the conversation. Several times the Northern Princess caught someone's gaze, feeling as if she wasn't wearing only a dress, but nothing of the clothes at all. After making a couple of unsuccessful attempts to find out whom he belonged to, the girl decided to stop the idea, considering that the room was simply too crowded and seemed to her.
- May I ask how you find the feast, Your Highness? - With a big smile, the son of the Hand, Katielyn Arryn, smiled widely with his usual playful smile.
- Oh, I find him wonderful! - The northern woman answered with a sincere smile.
It was noticeable that Titos Lannister's attention was much more pleasant to her than that of the young people who had been hanging around her before. When they saw the young Lion near their adoration object, all these Lords were disappointed to have left in an unknown direction. The daughter of the Queen of the North was already busy talking to her son, the Hand.
Titos Lannister hooked up all his natural charm to impress the charming Cat, because he needed to find out all possible information about the new relatives of the Queen of the North, and her daughter was the most suitable option for such manipulations.
Sansa Stark, in turn, looked at her daughter with clear approval when she saw her in the company of the Young Lion. In her head, it seemed that some plan had already begun to emerge, as her discerning eyes stumbled upon something talking Hand and Damion. Tyrion held a gilded cup of wine, occasionally drinking a bloody red drink from it and saying something quickly to the young man, who thoughtfully stroked his chin.
Anger sparkled in the eyes of the Queen of the North. Her heart was cut by a bad feeling, but she immediately swung away. Whatever the devil intended to do, it would hardly help her nephew to ascend to the throne.
From the many thoughts Sansa Stark was distracted by young Camila, the girl clearly missed standing by herself alone.
- You have a beautiful dress. Westeros' first women of fashion dream about such outfits! - The Queen of the North turned loudly to a young girl.
- Thank you! - Without feeling any trick, Kamila answered.
- I never thought that the Wildlings had Myrian lace and, most importantly, that they know how to wear such things - even louder, almost icy tone said the Queen of the North, without losing his arrogant look with Camila. - And yes! Next time, address the Queen accordingly. I understand that you have not been taught this, Lady Camila. - After this address, Sansa Stark took a significant pause and continued sarcastically. - But you've come to a decent society and you intend to become Queen, and the Lords of Westeros will not be tolerated by any scum.
Sansa Stark's speech should have made an impression.
Kamila looked at the dozens of smirks she had received, and her head was noisy, she lacked air, and she had to get out.
She picked up the hem of her dress and jumped out of the hall; her heels were pounding loudly on the marble floor, and her eyes were covered with tears burning her face.
She felt so crushed that she didn't even notice Damion running after her.