eachdraidh | (fifth lemon cake) video ✧ open to both courts

Fellow Shardholders. [ what follows is a rehearsed speech, likely written beforehand and committed to memory. sansa stark (better known by most as alayne stone) sits before her locket in troichean beinn. she has, pinned to the shoulder of her fine silk dress, a direwolf. every instinct in her body tells her she should not say what must be said. should not announce what must be announced. but before his absence, her father had been giving her gentle instruction in how to meet these responsibilities. it makes her weep to imagine disappointing him -- yet she is far out of her depth. she needs help. but the speech she must do on her own. ]

With a heavy heart I tell you that Lord Eddard of House Stark -- Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North, and a Keeper of Cothromach -- has left these lands. H-he is gone. [ she does not elaborate upon the very grief of his absence, but the cause cannot be too difficult to surmise: else why should anyone's heart be heavy for a man returned to his own world? ]

Yet if Lord Stark has made you promises or oaths of any sort, no matter your court, I wish to see them honoured and fulfilled. [ it takes tremendous will not to beg for the opportunity. she swallows hard. ] And if any have in turn have sworn service to him, I tell you now that I am his eldest daughter and the noble city of Cothromach has deemed me heir to his title. And to his duties. I would be humbled if those sworn to him would consider entrusting me with those same vows -- though I understand asking you to put your trust in a daughter of his house is not a thing easily done.

Likewise, if any in these lands wish to take refuge or make their homes in Cothromach, I would speak to you. My Lord Father wanted to see the city built up to its proper glory, and any Shardholder willing to join us in the task will be welcomed within its walls. For now, Lady Meera Reed sits as castellan while my family travels. Once my efforts in Troichaen Beinn are finished, I look forward to to returning as Sansa of House Stark.

[ by now her voice is shaking and it was a challenge merely to say her true name. it had been a lie, of course: she does not look forward to being herself once more. she knows such honesty runs against every lesson taught to her in the south. honesty leaves her open. vulnerable. but in the south she'd not had jon. nor arya, really. nor any manner of true ally -- none like those allies who have helped her in these lands.

it is for those sweet supportive souls that she speaks her final piece. it is the most difficult thing to ask, and it isn’t hidden behind rehearsal. it is not courtly. ] To those who knew and cared for the girl Alayne Stone: I apologize for my falsehoods. I swear I meant no harm. Please -- forgive me.

[ this confession is done. and so too was alayne stone. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It's of substance?

It's of substance to me if she is your mistress, yes.

If you'd like.

[ oh you little--! ]

What can you mean by this? If I'd like. Either she is or she is not your mistress -- my likes have little to do with it.

[ please. ]

And what does my mistress have to do with you?

If she is that same girl to whom you had me give your flowers, then I would say she is my friend. [ a word used by lucrezia and not sansa. sansa still fears friends. ] Surely, she then has everything to do with me.

[ indeed sansa intends to invite the girl to cothromach as part of that small court -- though she holds little hope the glittering young lady will accept. there are better places to be. ]

[ To speak or not to speak - that is the question. Inevitably, the answer falls in every way short. ]

It is her, the lady. Donna Lucrezia.

...She has not mentioned a Valentino to me. [ hmm! ]

[ Ah, righteous indignation: ]

And you have not mentioned any of your servants here without explicit question. Does it please you to remind me of my insignificance? Does it amuse you?

The ways in which two ladies talk is well different to how we converse.

[ excuse you valentino what makes you think you're privy to anything. ]

[ Genuinely puzzled now. ]

How... is it different?

Ladies gossip.

[ duh. how can you not know that valentino. are you sure you're not the simple one? at least, that's what her tone suggests. ]

As... servants do?

--Do they?

[ she's a straight up northern almost-princess. she doesn't know jack squat about how servants talk. ]

How else should they entertain themselves?

[ uhhhhm hard work and diligence. ]

Perhaps you ought to tell me how they do.

If you tell me what ladies gossip of first. What donna Lucrezia speaks of.

Ought you already know? [ some servant you are. ] And if you don't, I am certain it isn't my place to say.

And why not? Are we not two also only... gossiping?

We do not. This is not gossiping. This is you...berating. And I--

[ what am i doing? surviving, perhaps. coping. enduring. ]

...very well, then. I am poor at your sport. Teach me to - gossip.

[ her attention narrows. ] Do you ask in earnest?

Unless you have cause to think I will regret the knowledge.

I suppose I start like this: were you aware that the King of Westeros might yet be among our number?

[ careful, now. she does not want to discuss joffrey. but she knows that valentino knows things. he's clever and far too observant. perhaps she can spool out this game and knit some intelligence into her keeping. ]

Take me slowly: which is Westeros, and how will I know its man?

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