---- When our eyes locked, Benedict froze. He saw the tears on my face, then glanced down at the suit he'd worn without thinking, the one that just happened to match mine. A bitter smile tugged at his lips. He stepped closer, gently raised a hand to brush away the tear slipping down my cheek. "Don't cry, Sansa. I'll marry you." But before his fingers could reach me, a hand seized his wrist in a tight grip. Benedict turned sharply. It was Theodore. He wore a calm smile, but the pressure of his fingers on Benedict's wrist could make bones crack. His eyes were calm but sharp as blades. "Benedict," he said quietly, "why are you harassing Sansa again?" ---- Then, more sternly, "Come on-apologize to your future sister-in-law."