Inspired by this scene from The Sworn Sword:

When he was gone, Egg said, "I thought how you should speak to Lady Webber, ser. You should win her to your side with gallant compliments." The boy looked as cool and crisp in his chequy tunic as Ser Eustace had in his cloak.

Am I the only one who sweats? "Gallant compliments," Dunk echoed. "What sort of gallant compliments?"

"You know, ser. Tell her how fair and beautiful she is."

Dunk had doubts. "She's outlived four husbands, she must be as old as Lady Vaith. If I say she's fair and beautiful when she's old and warty, she will take me for a liar."

"You just need to find something true to say about her. That's what my brother Daeron does. Even ugly old whores can have nice hair or well-shaped ears, he says."

"Well-shaped ears?" Dunk's doubts were growing.

"Or pretty eyes. Tell her that her gown brings out the color of her eyes."

The girl only had eyes for Dunk, ignoring Egg completely. "How tall are you, ser knight? You are taller than my father, and I never thought I would ever meet a man taller than my father," she said, voice full of wonder and amazement.

"I am seven feet tall, my lady,:" Dunk replied. "The man who knighted me used to say -"

"Not quite seven feet tall," Egg interrupted, his third interruption so far, from the time the girl first approached them. His eyes had not left her face for all that time.

"Your squire is rude, ser," the girl remarked, hands on her hips, eyes glaring at Egg.

"I ... I am not rude," Egg sputtered. "I am only setting the facts straight. Ser, tell her, ser. Tell her that you are an inch shy of seven feet."

"Well, now, that is true, my lady," Dunk admitted. "I am almost seven feet tall."

"Oh, that is close enough to make no matter," she replied, her glare quickly turning into a smile as her gaze switched from squire to knight. "I must tell my father. I must tell him that I have met the most splendid and gallant knight," she declared, before flouncing away and disappearing, as quickly and stealthily as a ghost.

Egg would not look at Dunk for the rest of the day. Finally, as the sun was setting, Dunk lost his patience. "You're not sulking, are you, lad? Are you looking to be clouted in the ear again?"

"She didn't even look at me once. Ser, she stared and stared at you like you were the most magnificent creature she has ever seen, but she wouldn't even look at me," Egg replied. "Not once," he muttered under his breath.

"She looked at you plenty when she was glaring at you," Dunk reminded the boy.

"I was not rude, ser," Egg insisted again.

"No, you only acted like a spoiled little boy who thought his mother was not paying him enough attention."

Egg frowned. "Hardly a mother, ser. She's only a girl. Younger than me, I'd wager, despite her grand way of talking."

"Do you like her?" Dunk asked, meaning only to tease the boy, but the sight of Egg's reddening ears and cheeks turned the question into a serious one. After a while, Dunk said, "I thought you said girls are stupid."

"Not all girls, ser. Only the ones who insisted on rubbing my head for luck."

"Well, this one will never rub your head for luck, we can be certain of that."

"She didn't even want to speak to me," Egg said, mournfully.

Egg looked and sounded so miserable that Dunk felt he had to try and help the boy, no matter how inadequate his assistance might turn out to be.

"Perhaps you could entice her to speak to you with gallant compliments. Wasn't that what you taught me, when I was going to meet the Red Widow?" The Red Widow was a widow no longer, a thought that had not ceased to give Dunk pain. Leave off, you fool, he reminded himself.The likes of her are not for the likes of Dunk the Lunk.

Egg's eyes were wide open, as big as saucers, and startling in the intensity of their gaze. "Gallant compliments, ser? But she's a girl, not yet a lady."

Dunk considered this. "I suppose 'that gown brings out the color of your lovely eyes' might not work as well with girls. Perhaps you could compliment her on her riding skill. You saw her on her pony earlier. She rode as well as any boy I've seen. Better than most, in truth."

Egg pondered this advice in silence. He said nothing else about the girl for the rest of the day.

When the girl returned the next day, she was accompanied by two men-at-arms wearing the Blackwood badge. One of the men said to Dunk, "I come bearing a message from Lord Blackwood, ser. He is eager to meet the brave, gallant and splendid knight his daughter has been describing to him so eloquently, the knight who rescued an old woman and her grandson from the clutches of a band of brigands."

Dunk stared at his feet, blushing uncomfortably. Brave, gallant and splendid knight? What had the girl been telling her father? And what a grave disappointment Dunk would turn out to be, when Lord Blackwood actually set eyes on him.

While Dunk was talking to the two men-at-arms, Egg was desperately trying to engage Lord Blackwood's daughter (whose name turned out to be Betha) in conversation. "Your hair brings out the color of your eyes, my lady," Dunk overheard him saying at one point. Oh, lad. Don't you mean, 'your gown brings out the color of your eyes'?

"They are both black, my hair and my eyes. I am well aware of that, even without you pointing it out to me," Betha replied, the scorn obvious in her voice and in her whole demeanor.

If she rolled her eyes any harder, Dunk thought, they would disappear into her head.

"You ride very well, my lady," Egg tried again. "Better than my sisters, better -"

"Better than your sisters, but not better than you, I suppose?" Betha demanded.

"You didn't let me finish!" Egg protested, his voice raised high. Dunk winced. Lad. Lad. This is not the way to win over anyone with gallant compliments. Even Dunk the Lunk knows that.

Surprisingly, at least surprisingly to Dunk, Betha said, "Go on, then. Finish what you were going to say."

But now Egg was speechless, the tips of his ears already reddening. His cheeks would be all red too, soon. Dunk tried to help, saying, "What my squire meant -", but Egg quickly interrupted, finally finding his voice.

"You were magnificent on your pony. It was like ... it was like the two of you were one, in a perfect union, and he knew exactly what you were thinking, and you knew exactly what he was thinking. I was fascinated, but envious too. I never had that, that perfect understanding, not with any animal I rode."

"No one has ever ridden Blacky before. I am the first, and I will be the last. And I will never ride another horse as long as he lives."

Egg nodded, as if he completely understood.

"Though," Betha continued, sliding closer towards Egg, the look on her face no longer so unfriendly, "I have always wanted to try riding a mule. You have a mule, I hear."

"Well, it is Ser Duncan's mule, really," Egg replied, "but I'm the one who rides Maester more often than not."

"Maester? Is your mule really called Maester? Why?" Dunk heard Betha asking, as she and Egg were leaving for the stables.