Jeyne seemed even more at a loss than Sansa. She pulled the covers over her head and curled into a ball, leaving only a small tuft of brown hair showing. Sansa felt her trembling beneath the covers and reached out to pat her back gently, just as her mother had once soothed her.
"Go to sleep, Jeyne," Sansa said softly, her gentle voice still carrying a barely perceptible hint of panic. "We have to meet His Majesty Viserys tomorrow."
Jeyne poked her head out from under the covers, her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed. "Sansa, do you think... they're doing this because of House Targaryen's traditions? I heard that Targaryens often marry close relatives to keep their bloodline pure. Just like those Dragonlords of Valyria in the legends."
"Perhaps," Sansa replied quietly, her voice a little dry. "After all, the Targaryens are a house of Dragonlords. They're different from us."
She did not know how to judge this. Should she consider it a violation of moral principles, or believe that, for them, it was more than love and desire-that it was a duty, a way of carrying on their family's glory?
Those were her thoughts, and they even seemed to be nothing more than excuses for Viserys and the others-or, rather, for Viserys's behavior.
Yet Sansa's heart was still racing. The sounds coming from next door were utterly at odds with the solemn thoughts of "duty" and "glory" in her mind. They seemed far more like an expression of primal instinct.
"But..." Jeyne's voice still held a trace of confusion and curiosity. "Wouldn't it really feel strange? They're... family."
At the last moment, Jeyne held her tongue and substituted a word that sounded reasonably appropriate to her.
Sansa fell silent. She thought of her parents, Lord Eddard and his