Brienne expected sword fights.
She expected judging glances, whispers, and maybe that occasional body lust.
She hadn’t expected someone, least of all, Jaime, to make a big deal out of something innocent.
“Get your filthy hands of her,” Jaime spat.
Tormund had been only patting her back for a great job in the courtyard earlier. She didn’t see what was wrong with it.
Brienne was actually glad someone, aside from Jaime, didn’t look at her as a mannish girl, but as a fighter.
“I was merely congratulating my lady for a good job. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that,” Tormund replied with a shrug, but his on his face was slight smirk. Brienne’s face just got redder.
“It doesn’t mean you filthy wildlings are allowed to touch a highborn lady unless permitted.”
Brienne clutched Jaime’s arm. She hoped he knew that he had gone too far. Wildlings were still people after all and they need them for what was to come.
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