"Tony?" She blinks. There are all kinds of names he could have said that she would have reacted to, would almost have expected. Eddard, Catelyn, Robb, Arya, Brandon or Rickon - all those names have the power to sting and to condemn, to call up memories of blood and blade and slaughter. But she's never even heard of anyone called Tony.

From his thin-lipped, ill look, though, she's guessing Tony didn't meet with a happy end. That's the look of someone who's seen suffering. She shakes her head, her smile fading. "No. I'm sorry. I don't know the name." Which is true, but having seen that look, she'd say it even if it wasn't.