Aksel laughed as he slipped into the empty seat. "You have me there, Lord Selester. Far be it from this Bolton to hold others to their spots," he chuckled. "All right, I'll play. Though we Northmen are not so rich as you, and the last time I sat down at a table with a Tyrell, he did win a niece off of me," he said, with a rueful smile at Lord Tyrith and a nod at Baelor. "We try not to speak of it." Though I also won a hand in House Tyrell, of course... Truly, something for everyone.
"Kyra does know I'm here, it's kind of you to ask. We went for a brief ride a few days back--the country around here is so extraordinary. The cliffs of the Stormlands and the lush flora of the Reach... Speaking of which," he turned toward Selester, "might I ask if there's any truth to what I hear of a move toward Highgarden? I should love to see those glorious hills of yours again. It might be--three years, what?--since I've been there last."
He laughed at Baelor's comment about the beer--meant in earnest, it seemed. The man was such a...boy, really. "I've grown fond of the sweet golds your lord father's people make, but we all drink our northron ale in our own halls, lest the smallfolk think we are going soft," he said good-naturedly. "On the whole it is, thankfully, not so like White Harbor's. Though of raki, I cannot say much."