[The woman with the man's name, yes. Joan. Quite the novelty. To him, it sounds like the name Jon with some syllabic affectation. All the better to make it dance on the lips of the lady who bore it. The fairer sex was much fonder of vowels. There's no consonants to be found in most screaming whether from pleasure of pain. As he's heard first hand, women's throats were far more prone to those particular sounds. His best whores back home could make it sound almost like a song.]

Petyr Baelish, yes. Clinic? You'll have to enlighten me, my dear. I'm not quite familiar with all the places aboard this ship just yet.