[ In his frustration, Theon drains his cup, desperately wishing it were something stronger. It isn’t hot enough to scald his throat, but it is hot enough to make for an uncomfortable experience going down his already sore throat. Good enough, really, to keep his emotions from getting out of hand. His eyebrows knit together, and that’s the only true shift in his expression. ]

His Grace won’t listen.

[ It’s very telling, though, how easy it is for Theon to continue to call Robb by such a respectful title with no mockery in his tone. ]

There are truths he needs to know, but will not hear them. He thinks me a liar, when in truth he's offered me no opportunity to explain.