Ros: I do believe my lord is in love.
Petyr: For many years, most of my life really. And she loved me too, I was her little confidant, her plaything. She could tell me anything, anything at all. She told me about all of the horses she liked, the castle that she wanted to live in, the man she wanted to marry: a northerner, with a jaw like an anvil. So I challenged him to a duel, I mean, why not? I’d read all the stories, the little hero always beats the big villain in all the stories. In the end, she wouldn’t even let him kill me. ‘He’s just a boy’, she said, ‘please don’t hurt him’. So, he gave me a nice little scar to remember him by and off they went.
Ros: Is she still married to him?
Petyr: Oh no, he got himself killed before the wedding and she ended up with his brother, an even more impressive specimen. She loves him, I’m afraid, and why wouldn’t she? I mean, who could compare to him, he’s just so.. good.