"'Disgraced House Stark?' Harsh words, Whitehill. Disgraced under your gods or mine, I do wonder." Arta had remained a silent spectator for most of the trial, but the insults upon her brother and her house was not one she could let go. Brynn groaned as Arta left her place in the back, her presence alone clearing the path ahead. "Leave the judging to the judges or the gods, Whitehill," she told him icily. But her gaze cooled as she looked around her, and finally ahead.

"Either way I agree with one thing he said." Arta looked again to the Whitehill, then to her brother and the judges. "I'll not have a brother or a cousin as a kinslayer. To sit by and allow it to happen when other solutions still exist? Now that would be a disgrace to my house--to any house. If it's the righteous thing you wished to do, cousin, then you can still do so now. Now's the time to prove it. Wrong or right no longer matters, that is the past. What matters is that no more good men or women have to die for another's mistakes." She directed her gaze to Jorah. "Take the black, cousin. You wouldn't be the first or the last Stark to do so. Put an end to this madness."