[ Petyr was a man grounded within reality. Naturally, he heard rumors of magic within the realm -- stories passed on by hearsay. Men and women who might have confused a parlor trick for something true. As a naive boy, he might have given it more credit. But until he sees the shift, the unveiling of reality, he never would have thought it possible. His hand extends to touch the back of a chair. It doesn't disintegrate under his touch the way the brief ashen picture may have suggested. Petyr stares in wonder. ]

How I wish I had not...

[ His hand falls away from the furniture and he looks toward Daenerys, though not quite with recognition. Had he known who she was immediately, this may have been a far different conversation. ]

Good news, my lady. We have either bore witness to the truth or we are both going mad. Shall we flip a coin to see where we land?