It was all a little confusing to Arya, but she did grasp one thing. "You ate his heart?" she asked in fascination. Old Nan had told her once about the Rat Cook and how he'd served an Andal king his own son, and there were stories about what evil wizards in Essos did. (And somewhere within her mind, there was a memory of running on four legs at night with a pack, finding men in the forests, and the taste of blood in her throat.) "Is that magic? I've heard stories..."
She trailed off. She knew something that Hannibal did not. She had felt lost since coming to this world, and now to know something that someone did not made her feel good. She chewed her lip, wondering if she should share her knowledge, and decided to share a little of it. "They're the best assassins in the world, from Braavos. They can change their faces." She thought of the coin that she kept on her at all times, the iron coin with the face worn away.