A king who’s innocent of the things of which he’s guilty?

And what was it about the dark that made her question things she’d never questioned before, in the day.

Everybody was strange. In a fit of frustration, she scratched out strange and wrote the word CRACKPOTS in big letters.

How absurd it was that in all seven kingdoms, the weakest and most vulnerable of people - girls, women - went unarmed and were taught nothing of fighting, while the strong were trained to the highest reaches of their skill.

Katsa turned to Po with tears in her eyes. 'He'll be so angry.' 'He won't stay angry forever.' 'Won't he?' she said. 'People do sometimes.' 'Do they?' he said. 'Reasonable people? I hope that's not true.' Katsa gave him a funny look, but didn't answer. Resumed hugging herself and kicking things.

His last thought was that it hadn't been stupidity that had allowed his son to enchant him so easily with words. It had been love.

Find something useful to do with your morning,' she thought to him as she neared her chambers. 'Do something heroic in front of an audience. Knock a child into a river while no one's looking and then rescue him.