What do you want with me? Jon demanded. Yes, Lysa said glumly, her voice as cold and dead as the captain of her guard. Ass, Jon muttered, low enough so Greyjoy did not hear. I can't even run.
How many cups have you had, Jon? Jon smiled. I hope the dear sweet lad does not blame himself. Visenya's hill was crowned by the Great Sept of Baelor with its seven crystal towers. I have failed my sacred trust.
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