He was about to open his mouth and try and spin a tale, but the torturer was looking at him as if he was a naked maiden in a whorehouse. With his already wet garments, he started shivering uncontrollably. At that moment, Baelish knew he was truly and utterly fucked. He did not have enough time to make friends and alliances here in the Westerlands. There was nobody that would come for him if they even knew he was in trouble. Terror gripped his heart.