She chews on her lip as he concentrates, half-wondering if this was all a ruse, some cruel trick. No one ever gave her what she wanted. When she asked Thoros to return her father to her, to raise a dead man like he had so many times before, his answer was 'no.' Jason Blood's answer would be no too, she was sure of it.

And then he spoke.

Raymund Frey.

She doesn't know the name. She doesn't have a face to imagine, a face to hate. She has a new name to whisper at night, and one day she will find him and cut his throat and maybe throw him in the river, or to the wolves, but right now the answer leaves her cold.

"Raymund Frey," she repeats, for the first time. Something dark slithers underneath her voice, something muted and far away. "Do you see anything else?" she blurts out suddenly, her voice rushed and her eyes wide and desperate. "My brother Robb, or--or what happened? Or why?"

Tell me, she thinks. Tell me everything. Tell me tell me tell me.