She does not cry out as a mailed fist one again strikes her cheek. She just looks down and sees the blood drip on floor, red, flowing.
'' Have you learned your lesson, my lady?'' She stares at Joffrey.
The feral lion.
The coward
She sees blood run down his wrist, and she want to laugh.
He has cut himself on the throne again.
'' Yes your grace I have learned my lesson.''
She smiles then; for every bruise he gives her, a cut is placed on him by his throne.
