You found yourself frowning as Cersei once again stormed out of the room, your cheek still red and stinging. The woman was... difficult to say the least. Still, you were hopeful that you could see yourself and Sansa safely removed from the city before she wore you down enough to accept her absurd propositions. Myrcella as Robb's mistress, honestly. The very though was ridiculous.
Although... perhaps as a hostage to the throne's good behavior...
You were interrupted by a cough, as a pair of Lannister guardsmen who had just entered the room began to backtrack. "Apologies, my Lord Hand. We saw Her Grace leave and thought you were all done in here."
"That's fine. I was just preparing to leave. The room is yours."
You were halfway out the door when you paused. "The two of you look familiar. Have I met either of you before?"
The one who had spoken earlier did so again. "Aye, my lord. At Pyke. The two of us were given the honor to serve in Lord Robert's retinue. I am Ser Mychel Uvin."
His companion offered you a surly bow. "Ser Jon Danjew."
"Ah." Truly there wasn't more to say. You were hardly inclined to chat with Lannister men, however talkative they appeared. One thought pricked at your mind, however, even as you exited the room. What exactly had the two of them needed the empty room for?
You about faced and swung open the door. "Oh! Oh Gods!"