Morning sunlight suffused the air and flowed in through the windows. Tyrion blinked a few times as he wandered in to the private dining room, set into one of the higher towers, which provided a stunning view of the Sunset Sea, and an equally blinding view of the sun itself. He noted with mild displeasure that the table was already set - he’d woken up early a week ago, and since then had been in silent competition with the serving staff to see who could get up earlier. Come now, how old are you? he scolded silently. Arriving at the table, he climbed up into a seat and served himself a grapefruit half to start, dusting it lightly with sugar using a small golden sugar spoon engraved with a lion. Moving mechanically, he dissects the grapefruit, turning over details in his mind.
Tyrell visits Bear Island. Jorah Mormont has his lordship restored for unknown reasons. The Starks are even more silent than usual, Hoster Tully is dying, Walder Frey marries off an inconsequential daughter to Lord Tully’s heir, meaning that he spreads his seed ever further, and now Stannis Baratheon is marrying Mormont.
That was the bit that niggled at him. What could Stannis Baratheon, lord of Storm’s End, want with some daughter from the freezing North? True, the Mormont women were famously fecund, but something stuck in his throat about it. Well, nothing for it but to wait. Soon, he decided, maybe even today, he’d suggest that he, or maybe all the House, moved down to King’s Landing. If they were to have any hope of regaining their former standing, they had to start shoring up connections, forging new alliances. Jaime must marry, surely he sees that? He sighed, pushing aside the empty grapefruit hemisphere and pulling over a small capon. No, he won’t. Perhaps, if I persuade to Genna and Kevan to help, we’ll be able to convince him.