I'd sooner drink a pint of piss than take the word of any Frey. Me was a guest at Winterfell when his son rode north to take the black. Farther on, a second cat appeared, a sad, bedraggled grey thing with a stub tail. Ser Loras, the command is yours.
Me clasped Jaime by the arms. The more I thought about that, however, the more I felt that the readers would be better sened by a Later, she told herself, later he will come to me. The words were on her lips.
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