Sandro rolled his eyes and gave an expansive, Lyseni shrug, hands spread as if in helpless bemusement at the madness of Westerosi. "In this city, my lady, they are all gone mad. The Council is playing a game with itself, and where is this wolfking of yours? Silent in his dais, talking to his trees."
He liked Alethea because his neice had liked her and trusted her. Aeria had been good at knowing when to trust. Aeria had been a queen, from her first moments. Elia was not her sister- sweet, passionate, a fitting princess, but not a queen. "I do not begin to know their heads. I think they want only an answer and do not care how it comes. Elia and Aenyris were close but had not spoken for some time- they seem to think that cause enough. Perhaps they will say a Dornish plot. They are always crying out for fear of Dornish plots. It is a tradition, I think."