ed to laugh and climb and dreamt of knighthood, all gone now, she would never hear him laugh again. It was right, her father said. They burnt us out, a farmer beside him said. She rose slowly and opened her sleeping silks and let them fall to the ground.
He was mocking her, she realized. Bran kept his pony well in hand, and did not look away. Marillion sat frozen, clutching his woodharp, his face as pale as milk, but Tyrion's man Morrec bounded quickly to his feet and moved to help the knight with his armor. He saw the way the maester was frowning and hurriedly added, I didn't, though.
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