It would have been better if they had been able to bathe the way they would have at home, he decides. He's no maidservant, but he would have helped her into a tub or a hot pool, would have poured a basin of water over her hair, and she wouldn't have had to be on her feet.

They would be asleep by now if it hadn't been for the mask. He's not sure why it will be useful, or how, or why it had been so difficult to take off to begin with. It must have been easy to put on. And if it was hard for her to take off, it must also be hard for the troops it was designed for.

What does that say about the Regency?

Nothing good. Nothing he hasn't already begun to suspect. Why do their people fight for them? Xici had been an enthusiastic recruit, not a reluctant and forced one, though there must be ways of forcing any of them. But if the punishment for failure is as bad as not trying at all... what makes them do it?

He walks alongside her in the corridor, watches her braid her hair as they walk, and it's not long before they're back at his room, where he's left Ghost. The direwolf stands and sniffs him as he comes into the room.

"It's just soap, boy."

If Dany hadn't wanted to kiss him with bits of chicken in his beard, she definitely isn't going to want to sleep under a blanket befouled by those same bits. He moves to the wardrobe, first, and examines the pile of furs on the floor.

"I'm going to put these on the bed," he says to her, taking the blanket and shaking it out over Ghost's head.