In truth though he wasn't sure he wanted to know anyway. It was best not to. So he simply moved to Trish as she swore in a language he had never heard and brushed her hair away from her head to make sure she wasn't hurt. She didn't look hurt and he'd had worse so he merely helped her back to her feet as best he could. He wasn't going to think about the book just now, or his life being fiction. There was no point. It wasn't worth it.
"Look, I'll think about looking again at some point, properly I mean. I'll look into it further, the books, see what my brother makes of all of it. He'll have them read in weeks. But it doesn't change who I am."
He was still mostly surprised Trish wasn't recoiling from him or calling him Kingslayer. If she knew the truth, knew the things in those books... He could only hold his tongue so long of course. "I've seen how detailed those books are Trish, the things they say about Cersei and I, about our time at Winterfell, the Stark boy, and why they call me Kingslayer and yet you don't seem to hate me. You instead have helped me, knowing full well who I am and knowing of the things I've done for the love of my sister. I'm not sure I understand why you're being so kind to me, not that I'm not grateful of course." And he was.
"You know all of this and yet you offered to help me. Perhaps you'd be so kind as to tell me why?" he asked, still close to her, still holding her arm to steady her.