You presume- Lysa began. What are you doing up here tonight? he asked. It was not the rat-faced man; this gaoler was stouter, shorter, though he wore the same leather half cape and spiked steel cap. Ser Barristan, if you would be so kind? The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard examined the paper.
It was bitter cold outside. His cloak was his crowning glory; sable, thick and black and soft as sin. Pretend you're splitting logs, Bronn said, drawing his longsword from the scabbard across his back. In their hands were swords of pale fire.
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