Isobel blushed and thanked the Seven once more than she wore the veil. At least that was a blush she would be keeping to herself, even if he'd seen more than his fair share of the others. As to his thoughts, she nodded along. She knew it would be difficult for the wolf king having followed so many years of dragons. It was quite like the old days in the songs, when the usurper Baratheon had deposed Mad Aerys.
Only it didn't seem the wolf sought out the crown, it was just thrust upon him. She fell quiet and realized that Arys was surely waiting on a response...it was no wonder no man would have her. She couldn't even have a conversation properly without forgetting it was her turn!
"It is to keep the sand from my eyes and mouth, though...though I find it ser...serving a different purpose here. Why is it that the city smells so?"