[The poor girl on the stage looks like she could be from Westeros. She knows the cut of the clothing, the braided hair. Targaryen silver, the same shade as her Helaena's. But that was silly, Helaena was in her cradle back at home. At least, she had been, when she'd been in King's Landing.

But, as she'd learned some hours ago, this was not King's Landing.

A bit more calm than the girl, Alicent feels something pull her toward her, to take her arm gently when she is dragged toward the side of the stage.] Here, here, I'll take her. [She helps the girl down.]

Who comes in the middle of the night, Sweetling? Is that where you were, before you were taken here?