Despite being the one to offer him a seat, she still felt somewhat awkward joining him. This would be unheard of in proper society, lest her reputation be questioned, but there's nothing normal about the situation they'd been thrust into. So she grabbed the nearby bread knife again, this time with the plate of bread and cheeses, and smoothed her skirt with her free hand so that she could sit across from him. It was near enough the fire to offer warmth in the building's strange chill, but not so close to seem dangerous. She felt keenly aware of it any time she witnessed his horrible scar.

To hear that he had risked his own safety just because he didn't like the curfew, it made her think of something Arya would have done. The parallel left an unpleasant taste in her mouth, not knowing if it was longing or resentment, so she was eager to take in the rest of what he had to say. Alayne had no sister, after all.

"It seems the names of our false fathers carry weight in this kingdom. I never met Don Urbano, hearing that he died before my arrival, but his name seems enough to draw kindness out of the Witches. Now I suppose I also have a stepmother and uncle, but...I don't really know anything about any of them."

At least she'd already had a rapport with Petyr before becoming his daughter. This was a form of acting completely without a net, and it had been...rather lonely. Feeling like she must have seemed pitiful to even complain about not knowing anyone, she covered her embarrassment by cutting off a slice of bread, then tearing off a bite size for herself.

"I've never met someone for the first time in my bedchambers. I suppose this means we must become fast friends, or else this might be deemed a harmful stain on my reputation."

There was a smile hidden behind her piece of bread, sensing his own discomfort for whatever reasons he had, unable to resist a gentle tease.