The guardsman gave a choked cry and staggered back, clutching at his neck, his face blackening. His Grace the King commands your presence. Sam, he thought. Waking or sleeping, she saw him, saw the gold cloaks fling him down, saw Ser Ilyn striding forward, unsheathing Ice from the scabbard on his back, saw the moment .
Do try a cup of the wine, sweet sister. Kings are a rare sight in the north. Sell one and we can buy a ship to take us back to the Free Cities. she could feel Rhaego receding from her, as if he had never been.
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