Lynn's body went rigid in an instant, and his mind went blank.
He could even hear the sound of Ned pouring wine.
He frantically signaled to Sansa with his eyes, letting out a string of meaningless dry coughs.
But Sansa, carried away by the bold idea in her head, completely missed his meaning.
She merely thought her King felt a little shy and overwhelmed by her sudden "surprise."
That only made her more excited.
Her smile grew more alluring, and her blue eyes seemed to brim with moisture.
"My King, are you feeling shy?"
She extended her slender fingers and lightly traced Lynn's chest, then moved down until they rested on the belt at his waist.
"It's all right. Let me help you..."
"Ahem!"
A heavy cough interrupted Sansa's movements.
It had not come from Lynn.
She knew that sound all too well.
Sansa froze in place like a statue encased in ice.
She could feel her fingers trembling uncontrollably against Lynn's belt.
Ned Stark slowly turned around, wine cup in hand.
He had been about to ask Lynn about Stannis's next move.
But at the sight before him, every word caught in his throat.
His daughter, Sansa Stark, the daughter who had always prided herself on being the very model of a lady.
She was now crouching before the King in the North, wearing a maid's outfit so tight it bordered on shameless.
And her hand rested somewhere no lady should casually touch.
Ned's face visibly turned from its normal color to a dark, livid purple.
The wine cup in his hand fell to the floor with a clatter.
Time froze.
The room was so quiet they could hear one another's heartbeats.
Deathly pale no longer began to describe Sansa's face.
She turned her head with agonizing stiffness and