Dogs with Broken Teeth

"A northern wedding?!" Lady Rosby said, looking somewhat shocked, and failing to keep her voice down.

Her companion, the young Lord Brune of Brownhollow looked absolutely delighted at her near palpable distress and surprise, and conspiratorially raised his voice as well, as if sharing a great secret with the whole table. "Yes, indeed. It seems to me to show an abominable level of indulgence on their part." He scoffed, "Two weddings. Even others who have married that sort of lady show a little restraint in perhaps merging customs. But then, what would be expected of Lord Velaryon's only surviving son. I've heard tell that he was conceived of some sort of dark magic, perhaps even bloodmagic. And so what wonder is it really that he shows so little respect for the proper customs?"

Lady Rosby, and a few others at the table gasped at the allegation, and Raya, shaking slightly with rage, made as if to stand up, opening her mouth, but Nikolaus grabbed her wrist firmly, without even looking at her. She wasn't the sort to let that stop her, but it redirected her anger for a moment long enough for Rybert to quite clearly ask Nikolaus, "Will you say nothing, my Lord?"

"Of what?" Nikolaus asked, glancing at Rybert coolly as if no one else was at the table, and slowly releasing his wife's hand.

"Of talk of your first wedding at Winterfell. I have heard some have spread quite the scandalous rumors of it and of your birth." A strange hush had settled over their portion of the table, but Rybert was calm, as if they were talking about the weather instead of social politics.

Nikolaus' words were spoken slowly, calmly, but before Seraya could get a word in. "I see no reason to engage those who cannot tell the difference between indulgence and a fair trade, whose tongues wag wildly of my birth when my actions have spoken for themselves." His eyes wandered over the table, passing over Lord Brune dismissively. "Dogs with broken teeth who howl too loudly find their throats crushed by even the least of hunters. It would be a shame to waste weapons on them." Jonatan, not far down the table from them, choked on something trying to conceal his laughter, and Nikolaus and Rybert returned to their meal, as if nothing very important had passed between them or the rest of the table. Eventually, others followed suit, even the somewhat red-faced Lord Brune.