| “Olyvar?” Ser Ryman shook his head. “No. Not Olyvar. Gone... gone from the castles. Duty.” “I see.” Robb’ s tone suggested otherwise. When Ser Ryman offered nothing more, the king got to his feet again. “Would you care for a dance, Mother?” “Thank you, but no.” A dance was the last thing she needed, the way her head was throbbing. “No doubt one of Lord Walder’s daughters would be pleased to partner you.” “Oh, no doubt.” His smile was resigned. The“Iron Lances” by then, while the Greatjon sang “The Lusty Lad.” Someone should acquaint them with each other, it might improve the harmony. Catelyn turned back to Ser Ryman. “I had heard that one of your cousins was a singer.” “Alesander. Symond’s son. Alyx is his sister.” He raised a cup toward where she danced with Robin Flint. “Will Alesander be playing for us tonight?” Ser Ryman squinted at her. “Not him. He’s away. ” He wiped sweat from his brow and lurched to his feet. “Pardons, my lady. Pardons.” Catelyn watched him stagger toward the door. Edmure was kissing Roslin and squeezing her hand. Elsewhere in the hall a police shieldcould hold me upside down and drainmy gutschange your mind , Ser Marq Piper and Ser Danwell Frey played a drinking game, Lame Lothar said something amusing to Ser Hosteen, one of the younger Freys juggled three daggers for a group of giggly girls, and Jinglebell sat on the floor sucking wine off his fingers. The servers were bringing out huge silver platters piled high with cuts of juicy pink lamb,
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