( Sansa POV )
I'll take one more day for myself. And then will come my time to fly. Here, without the wind, the silence was even more cloying, yet what choice did she have but to bear it? The alternative was to be gawped at and spied on by strangers.
...
But her solitude could not last long. Hunger rumbled her stomach, and she would soon have to emerge from her den of silence, if only to send for a servant. And a girl such as Alayne would not be so cavalier with making use of servants. If she were to maintain the ruse of her identity she would have to venture further out into the rest of keep and face the wandering eyes and questioning looks.
But before she could muster the courage, a sharp knock sounded on the door.
"Come in," Alayne called out, curious.
One of the guards came through the doors, gently pushing them apart to reveal his helmeted face. "My lady, I'm here on behalf of Lord Robert. He... He refuses to eat, and demands to see you."
Alayne quirked an eyebrow. It was true enough the little lord had become attached to her over the course of her stay at the Eyrie - almost uncomfortably so, she thought. Honestly, that he had not called for her sooner surprised her. Alayne sighed. No matter. The gently-bred bastard daughter of Petyr Baelish would not refuse such a request from Lord Robert - now her liege lord. "Take me to him."
The guardsman briefly nodded, gave a hesitant little half-bow that made it clear to Alayne that he thought the Lords Declarant told the truth, and led her from her chambers. Down the winding steps and through the halls and passages of the keep they went, her slippered feet padding silently on the stone floors behind the loud thumping of a guardsman's boots. Even now, with all the Lords of the Vale assembled, Alayne was struck by the enormity of the Eyrie.
It was easily the most sparsely populated keep in all the Seven Kingdoms, save perhaps for Harrenhall. The few servants that did wander the halls were old and knew to keep themselves quiet so as to not agitate their young lord. There were no horses in the Eyrie, no hounds either. There was a training yard, but with the wind and the cold few of the arriving knights and lords deigned to use it for very long. Only the wind broke the silence, whispering between the gaps in the stone and making the walls moan and hiss from time to time.
Lord Robert sat alone in his chambers when she arrived, his legs swinging off the edge of his chair as he pushed a spoon listlessly through a bowl of quickly-cooling porridge. "I want bacon," he said. "And eggs. Lots of eggs."
"You can have all the eggs you like in a little while," Alayne promised him. "But with all the lords here, eating all the Eyrie's food, we haven't any to spare for the moment. We'll have some more in just a few days time."
"It isn't fair!" Robert whined. "It's my castle! My food! Why do they get to eat it? Why do they even have to be here?"
Alayne pursed her lips. "I wish they weren't here either," she said quietly after a moment's thought. "But they are your subjects, and they are here for a purpose. It is a lord's duty to hear the complaints of his subjects, to host them as well when necessary. And a lord needs to be big and strong, which means he has to eat, even if it means eating something he may not like all that much."
The lord was unappeased. "I am the lord! I want eggs! I want bacon! I want beef! How am I supposed to grown big and strong if I can't have that?"
"You'll grow big and strong by eating what you're given," a third voice interjected. Alayne whirled around - it was Petyr. "You could do a great deal worse than porridge and honey," he said, lowering a small cup of it down to the table.
Alayne nodded, grabbed the cup, and proffered it to Lord Robert. "Please?" she said. "For me?"
Lord Robert gazed at her suspiciously - as though she were offering him poison - but eventually his sweet tooth won out, and compelled him to take the cup and dump it into his still-warm bowl of oats, tasting it gingerly with his spoon to see if it was to his liking. Before she could ask if he was satisfied, Petyr placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him even as he gently pulled her away from Lord Robert and into a corner of the room.
"What is it?" she asked in a low voice, noting that for the first time in what felt like weeks she was alone with him - save for Lord Robert, of course.
"The trial is tomorrow," Petyr began.
"Are you ready?" Alayne asked.
"Ready enough," Petyr said. "I've been making preparations, currying favour with the right lords to build enough of a base of support. Lord Royce, it seems, has neglected to do the same."
"So either he is a fool or else he knows something more," Alayne said, her brow creased with worry.
Petyr smiled. "Lord Yohn is a fine enough knight, but all those years spent being beaten over the head with training swords seems to have blunted his cunning. Not that it matters what he knows or what he doesn't. The outcome of this trial hinges on your testimony."
"I know," Alayne said. "And I'm to say you didn't push Lady Lysa through the Moon Door, but rather that the singer Marillion was the killer."
Petyr nodded. "Exactly. Lord Yohn's tale is so fantastical that all the lords of the Vale are incredulous of it. A simple lack of evidence ought to be enough to force the Lords Declarant out of our hair."
The tale Lord Yohn tells is the truth, Alayne thought. "And what about Cersei?" she asked.
"The Vale lords do not answer to Kings Landing," Petyr assured her, hands raised to cup her cheeks. "In the Eyrie we will be safe, no matter what Cersei Lannister - or the Iron Throne - has to say about it. And one day you might even find one of those same Vale lords to your liking. With the full backing of the Knights of the Vale, it ought not to be too hard to retake your old home. A bright future awaits you, my darling daughter."
"So long as we win this trial," Alayne said.
"Remember what you need to say and say it," Petyr said. "I will handle the rest." He pulled her close and pressed another kiss to her lips, equal parts passionate and reassuring. When his lips parted from hers Alayne felt her face flush, snakes writhing in her stomach. "I'll not allow you to be hurt." Alayne nodded. Petyr gave her another peck on the lips, and then let her head go. "Now go," he said. "We mustn't be seen to be conspiring like this."
Alayne left Lord Robert's rooms in something of a daze, wondering back to her own apartments almost without noticing, the guardsman escorting her back, all traces of hunger in her stomach forgotten. When she came through her own doors, she observed the balcony through her windows, but did not venture back out onto it. Instead she stood gazing through the window out into the middle distance, deep in thought.
How did Lord Yohn know? she asked herself. It seemed clear to her that he had received something from the capital. You say you can count on the crown, but I wouldn't be so certain of that, Lord Yohn had said. But if so, how did the crown know? Are there eyes in the Eyrie? Alayne thought. One of Lord Varys's little birds? Or else did some piece of news wind its way down south, enough to direct the suspicion of the crown to the mountains of the Vale? If so, it seemed likely that it had been either Lord Tywin or Tyrion who had managed to piece the truth together. They were the only ones with the brains for it.
The hours passed in thought, till eventually the light through the window faded down into darkness. Alayne dressed in her nightgown and settled down into her bed, laying wide awake for hours as she alternated between pondering her condition and playing through the various things she would have to say during the trial tomorrow. Sleep came with exhaustion, and when Alayne awoke it was with her back aching something fierce.
She bathed, made use of her privy, and dressed herself all in silence. Today was the trial. Judging by the position of the sun in the sky, it had already begun. So when would her time to speak come? Alayne noted a meal had been sent to her room whilst she had prepared herself, but it was all she could do to take a few unenthusiastic bites and force them down to keep up her strength. She felt sick.
At any moment she could be called down to offer testimony before all the Lords of the Vale, and she would have to stand before them all and lie through her teeth.
...
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