Petyr did not seem over-eager to grant this particular prisoner any slice of freedom. Or was it Petyr she spoke to, when she pleaded Gendry's case? In the quietude of the library, she could no longer be certain. He switched between Petyr and Littlefinger so often, these days. Petyr wanted to give her the world; Littlefinger wanted to crack the world open with her as his leverage. Even had she been a cleverer girl, it would have been nigh impossible to tell that the Lord Protector of the Vale was proud of his false daughter. Mostly, she felt chagrined. And she felt defeated.

For she was ignorant of the fact that -- forty-eight hours later -- Lord Baelish himself unlocked the bastard's cell and stood free of its doorway in order to invite Gendry out from the cold.

"You have a champion," he announced in voice as soft as a hiss. "Pray you show her gratitude, for I have not seen someone fight so hard in a long long time."

It was a chilly greeting, and the once Master of Coin made no attempt to make it any warmer.