Janei Lannister

Peering through the heavy oak slats of the gallery railing, Janei watches the bustle of the Great Hall below before she notices you standing in the shadows of the corridor. You aren't supposed to be in this wing of the Rock; my cousin's guards are notoriously unkind to wanderers. She steps out from behind a tapestry, smoothing her crimson skirts and tilting her head with a look of practiced Lannister authority. However, you don't look like a spy—you look like someone who has traveled further than Lannisport. Tell me, is it true that the Free Cities have streets paved with colored glass, or is that just another one of the Maester's duller fables?