' lady sansa, ' he offers a bow to her, a small flourish of his arms at his side. how he came to be here, davos was far from sure anymore. once he'd followed after the steps of a friend, who rose to be king, yet now he stood following a boy and a queen he did not know. ' i see the festivities are not to your liking, neither mine i must admit. ' the knight managed a faint smile. ' if y'need a willing ear, m'lady, i will listen. ' his heart was unwell; yet, he could not stand to see their's more.
they drink, they celebrate. sansa can’t quite bring herself to enjoy the festivities as much as the others. can’t quite bring herself to relax, in the presence of the dragon queen and those that follow her. of jon, and his men, not knowing what it is they plan to do. still, she drinks. lingers at the edge, unnoticed, uncared for. she had presumed so, anyway, until the other is appearing with a bow and a faint smile. something in sansa’s chest warms, unable to stop the smile that curls up the corners of her own mouth. the way her shoulders drop their tension almost immediately. “ser davos,” she greets, voice soft even with the laughter and noise that surrounds them. “i’m not sure if you’d be interested in what i have to say,” her smile widens, before she can stop herself. amusement faint on her features before she’s finishing the wine in her cup, holding it close to her chest. “however, i would like to get away, if you’d care to.”