Elia's brows rose. She knew half a dozen nobles who had courted and run from Isobel. As she saw the tears start down Isobel's cheeks she cleared her throat and waved to her maids. "Leave us." The servants curtsied and made quick escapes.
"Loneliness?" she sighed. Gods save her, how had Isobel managed to be born to a Dornish house of all things? "Do stop that, dear. Crying in Kings Landing has on occasion been fatal. Take some more wine." Elia curled her feet up and considered Isobel's words. "You want a husband more than you need one. Fair enough. But if it's companionship, honestly, why not take a lover? You're lovely, Isobel. Pick a man and have him. It's not as if a lover would care what your family's been up to."
"But if you really can't, I suppose we shall have to figure out a husband for you." She took a sip of wine. The sooner she could get Isobel Dayne out of Kings Landing, the better it would be for everyone. "There's plenty of gossip about you and Lord Arryn already. Is he to be a lover or a husband?"