Hand-holding: 43 for Flora/Howland?
He finds it difficult to connect the girl before him to the one who hung on his every word at Harrenhal, smiling playfully, grey eyes sparkling with excitement.
That girl was just a child, of course, and this is a young woman, really, not a girl at all anymore.
But all the same, you would almost think they were two different people.
“Lord Reed,” she says, taking his hand before the gnarled little heart tree. The others will arrive shortly but given the hasty nature of all of this, he wanted to speak to her in private beforehand.
To ascertain if she was truly willing, in the most practical sense, and to see… well, to see if any of that happy and innocent young girl remains.
“I know you must be tired,” he says. “The ceremony will be very brief.”
“Yes.” Her smile does not reach her eyes.
He tries again. “We have no septs in the Neck, but we could travel to White Harbor a few months from now, and obtain the blessing of a septon, if that is what you wish.”
“I would not ask you to dishonor yourself like that, my lord,” she says. “I know they are not your gods.”
“Making you happy would not dishonor me,” he says quietly, probing at her with his eyes. She will not quite meet his gaze. “Florence? Will you look at me?”
“If you do not want this I will not raise any protest,” he says. “You have my word.”
“It is I who should be asking you that,” she says, bitterly. “I know this is a burden to place on you-,”
“What burden?” he demands, genuinely confused.
She blinks. “I am disgraced,” she says then. “You know it. We all know it. From the Wall to Sunspear they know it. I dishonored myself-,”
“You were taken against your will by men who broke their vows,” he says sharply. “Anyone who would blame you-,”
“Is a fool and a craven and should be stuffed in a sack and drowned,” he finishes.
She looks stunned by his vigor. He raises her hand and kisses it, swiftly.
She breaks into a half smile, which comes a little closer to her grey eyes.