(LIGHT APPLAUSE)
-Can we leave now?
-Let's find out.
(INDISTINCT CHATTER)
Uncle!
Where are you going?
You're my cup bearer,
remember?
I thought I might change
out of these wet clothes,
-Your Grace.
-No, no, no.
No, you're perfect the way
you are.
Serve me my wine.
Well, hurry up,
this pie is dry.
Mm, good.
Needs washing down.
(CHUCKLES)
If it please Your Grace,
-Lady Sansa is very tired--
-No. (COUGHS)
No, you'll wait here--
(COUGHS)
un-- (COUGHS)
-Your Grace?
-(CONTINUES COUGHING)
It's nothing.
(PANTING)
-(GASPS)
-He's choking!
Help the poor boy!
-(DRY HEAVING)
-(GOBLET RATTLES)
-Idiots, help your King!
-Move away!
