"Get the fuck off me," I growled at Sandor.
He removed his hand from my shoulder. "What do you want from me?" he yelled back.
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe be a decent person? That little girl is going to die here without any family because no one will stand up to Joffery!"
"There is only so much I can do. He is the king and I want to keep my head. Think about that next time you're kissing me." He turned and walked away, his hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword, a habit I noticed he did for comfort.
"Sandor," I sighed, wanting to kiss and make up, but he was already gone.