The feast was in full swing, but Jeyne and Jennelyn Fowler had found themselves tucked away near the edge of the hall, their sharp gazes darting over the guests like falcons spotting prey. Jennelyn swirled her untouched wine lazily, a smirk playing on her lips.

“Did you see Lady Toland’s dress?” she murmured, her voice low but dripping with derision. “I’ve seen more flattering colors on a corpse.”

Jeyne hid a grin behind her goblet, her eyes gleaming. “And Ser Deziel. He looked like he might faint when Arianne actually spoke to him. Do you think he practiced his stuttering in the mirror?”

Jennelyn let out a quiet laugh, leaning closer. “Perhaps he should have practiced walking first. He tripped over his own feet twice-"

Before Jeyne could respond, someone approached, the air around them suddenly colder. Jennelyn spoke as they were joined. "Well finally some company besides my boring sister."