ser dontos hollard

“She felt tears in her eyes, but whether she wept for Ser Dontos Hollard, for Joff, for Tyrion, or for herself, Sansa could not say.”

   …

“They think Tyrion poisoned Joffrey. Ser Dontos said they seized him.“ Littlefinger smiled. "Widowhood will become you, Sansa.” The thought made her tummy flutter. She might never need to share a bed with Tyrion again. That was what she’d wanted … wasn’t it?”

Sansa shrank back. “Don’t!” She slid her hand under her cloak, to her hidden knife. “What … what do you want with me?”

“Only to help you,” Dontos said, “as you helped me.”

“You’re drunk, aren’t you?”

“Only one cup of wine, to help my courage. If they catch me now, they’ll strip the skin off my back.”

She drew the knife and held it before her with both hands.

“Are you going to stab me?” Dontos asked.

“I will,” she said. “Tell me who sent you.”

—  Sansa II, A Clash of Kings

“ […] When I heard how you saved his life at Joff’s tourney, I knew he would be the perfect catspaw.”
Sansa felt sick. “He said he was my Florian.”
“Do you perchance recall what I said to you that day your father sat on the Iron Throne?”
The moment came back to her vividly. “You told me that life was not a song. That I would learn that one day, to my sorrow.” She felt tears in her eyes, but whether she wept for Ser Dontos Hollard, for Joff, for Tyrion, or for herself, Sansa could not say.