Septa Moelle's stern expression did not flicker. A widow, of Dairy blood. Storm's End?' Cersei looked thoughtful. Ned Stark, and her vile, treacherous, murderous dwarf brother, all the while promising herself that one clay il would be her turn.
She's too young for that old man. The Mage was not like other maesters. That was how Arthur Dayne did it, when we rode against the Kingswood Brotherhood. She imagined Tyrion creeping between the walls like some monstrous rat.
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