Sansa, for her part, is eating very little owing to a bit of nerves and very tight laces. Everything is delicious, of course, but she doesn't want to be sick at her stomach on this night of all nights and she knows how to eat when she's laced into something tight like this wedding gown.

The gown is Stark, through and through, but there's hints of stag horns here and there. Concession to southern dressing styles, it isn't high necked, and she feels a little exposed with bare arms for everyone to see.

Daemon seems perfectly at home while she isn't quite and Tyrion has reminded her more than once that it's all right to relax and enjoy herself. He whispers advice to her. "The marriage is wanted. You can be happy, even in front of everyone. The people like it. Hold his hand, Sansa."

So Sansa reaches next to her and touches Daemon's hand, giving him a brilliant smile. "You look happy," she says. "Are you as happy as I am?"