Cersei will not want to hear that, I promise you. He's marching the wrong way, he thought. He looked around the hall, saw heads turn quickly, eyes politely averted. He wanted to shame me, and he has.
I'm not blind yet. The raven flapped down and landed on the table, strutting toward the sword, head cocked curiously. Wooden horses with a hundred legs, that fly across the sea on wings full of wind. Yet she felt strong.
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