Before she'd even finished speaking, Daemon snaked a long arm around Sansa's waist and hauled her over and astride his lap, quickly situating one of her legs on either side of his hips, and shoving her voluminous skirts high to her thighs. Did women here really need all these damned layers?

"I think I could handle it," he rumbled, exhaling another pleased sigh as he settled back with Sansa's pleasant weight in his lap, both of his arms looped casually but firmly behind her, keeping her from bolting away. To that effect, the King bent his knees, slotting them even closer together, and Daemon's smirk slowly slid over his lips, satisfied.

"There," he stated. "Much better. Don't you think?"