Having frowned, the northern woman raised herself from her chair and rhinestones with a dress and came up to the high lattice window.
- Well, I still have a son, and I guess I'll have to turn to someone else and Ned will be able to get married. - Sansa thought about it while she looked away.
- You don't know much about your son, Your Grace!
- What do you mean? - Rounding her eyes, either out of bewilderment or out of surprise, the Queen of the North asked, turning her head sharply to her interlocutor. Her red hair swung up like autumn leaves in the wind.
- I'm afraid your son isn't interested in the girls! - Tyrion said, draining the cup with the wine in a volley.
The woman looked at the dwarf with an evil look and sizzled:
- It can't be!
Tyrion, without blinking an eye, came up to the table again, threw a few more sips of wine at him and continued:
- Yes! You are far more blind than I thought.
- You are forcing me to act more cruelly! - The Queen of the North answered his lunge.
When she realized that the conversation would not lead to anything, the woman turned around and hurried towards the exit. After her words, Tyrion unwittingly remembered Cersea. Now it seemed to him that Sansa was her daughter. But no. Cersea was cruel, but she loved her children. Children and... Jaime.
- Sansa, did you ever say that you loved anyone but yourself? - Tyrion threw her a breath. - Just don't tell me about Prince Joffrey. I still can't believe it.
The dwarf didn't know exactly why he was asking that question; maybe he really wanted to know if his ex-wife was capable of warm, bright feelings or just wanted to inject more. He probably did not expect to hear any answer at all.
But the Queen of the North stopped for a moment and, turning her head so that Tyrion could see the look on her face, answered:
- Yes, but He was a little taller than you.
If Tyrion hadn't been looking at her at that moment, he would have said with certainty that she was being sarcastically judgmental. But the way her eyes changed in a split-second was priceless. In her eyes, she could read some invisible pain and even tragedy. The demon did not answer anything. Quickly regaining her usual look, the Queen of the North left the Hall. Tyrion watched with sadness as she fled the door.
After her departure, the only thought that came to Little Demon's head was that she had been able to evoke such a vivid, lively and even sincere reaction from Sansa Stark for her memories.
As soon as she left the Small Council Hall, the Queen of the North ran into Samwell Tarley. Holding numerous parchment scrolls and breathing heavily, Maester was in a hurry. This meeting seemed very appropriate to her. When Sam saw the Queen of the North, he stopped and bowed as low as his stomach had allowed him to protrude.
- Grand Maester, you were turned around. - Sansa's cold eyes were watching Samwell Tarly closely. - Did you really think John's son would be happy to see you? - Without waiting for an answer from him, she continued: - And Tyrion was clearly up to something. - Sansa spoke, still staring at him like that.
- That's where you're wrong, for the Lord Hand just thinks we owe John one. Before he died, our king often remembered him and regretted banishing John. - Sam took a hard breath and tears gleamed in his eyes. - Yes, Lord Hand offered to hand over the Dragonstone to Damion. But I think he only did it because he wanted to support the poor young man. Only out of respect for John. Still, we remember... We remember what he did for all of us.
Sansa Stark thought for a moment. She was definitely intrigued by what Samwell told her. If Tyrion offered John's son the Dragonstone, then he didn't support his claim to the throne. This could not please the Queen of the North.
- And you? - Sansa took the conversation in the right direction. - Who will you and your son support? After all, he listens to you in everything. Space should choose someone's side, shouldn't it?
Sam was surprised to see his little eyes on the Northern Lady, but did not answer anything.