"You seem troubled, dear boy," Varys offered him a cup of wine and he gratefully accepted.

"They killed the wolf," Micas answered with sadness. He thought of Jon's Ghost that followed him as a shadow and he wondered how a dog could be held accountable for the crimes of people. A dark cloud had descended over everything in King's landing, the Stark sisters hating each other. He often thought about what it would be like to have a sister and he wondered if he could ever hate them.

"A necessary evil," Varys assured him. He liked Varys. He had always been kind to him and occasionally allowed him to enjoy some wine with him or some lemon cakes. He missed the food and sun of Dorne, the language and it's streets. At least with Varys he felt that he could speak. Most of his days were spent in silence here, wondering and watching.

"I wish I served the Stark family," he commented idly as he swirled the contents of his cup, the strong wine a potent and heady mix.

"You should be careful where you say such a thing," Varys chided him.

"The Lannisters are dull," he replied sullenly.

"That is a first," Varys replied, raising his eyebrows. "Then again, they are not here to entertain you."

"Is it money that makes you dull," Micas asked him. "Many of the wealthy people have little to say."

"Perhaps they have much to say but why on earth would they say it to you?"

Micas set the cup down feeling humiliated.

"You are right. I am sorry."

"If you wish to keep your tongue, I advise you to be careful with it. You should go now. My little birds tell me you will need to prepare the King's armour. Micas nodded and took another lemon cake with him for later.