Eliza O'Dowd was a woman like no other. She did not tolerate wine, but heartily enjoyed it. Her smiles were real, her grimaces even realer than that. She wore her heart on her sleeve and her feelings in her eyes. Maybe that's what Podrick found so lovely, she was real. Honest. For that was herself, her trick, and her lie. Honesty was so hard to find that no one believed it nowadays. And the few lies she told, well, those were taken as truths. Like the lyre she played, the light gold dress she wore with lavender tull. The lady she was, it was just a clever lie. But the black captain's hat she wore over copper hair and twinkling blue eyes, was the truth in Eliza O'Dowd that his lord and master had shown him. She wasn't a simple creature and maybe that is why his eyes followed her. Shaping the curve of her figure when she and Lord Tyrion were to far into drink and talks to notice. Were he a knight Eliza would he the lady he begged a token from. It would not be a kerchief, embroidered with her house crest, it would be a kiss. Longing, loving, and for all the realm to see. A kiss everyone wished for themselves. But that was not the truth of the matter. Podrick was a squire and Eliza was a lady, orphaned but a lady none the less. And these were thoughts best left for starlight.