I do so, she insisted. I have a gift for you. Have you seen my squire? I sent him to you yesterday. Robert's hatred for Rhaegar was scarcely a secret.
Growing up a bastard in his grandfather's castle? Jon shrugged. She scooped up a handful of snow and squeezed it between her fingers. My friends, Sansa thought bitterly. Might be, said the Hound, but you're dead.
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