Tyrith grinned. "William awaits your arrival in the throne room, if you will come with me." He turned and passed his horse off to a squire.
"How was your trip? Not too beset by storms, I hope. The season's been wretched so far." Best to test the water before flinging him at William, Tyrith figured. Though the idea of a truly irate Martell and a Stark butting heads might sell seats in an arena, sadly there were not tickets to the great hall. A pity. It might have made for another gold mine.