Curse the man. Splendid, Tyrion said dryly, shaking off the last drops. She's sulking in the castle now, damn her. Where in the seven hells was Bronn? Die, the man grunted, chopping at him savagely.
The maester only hopes. He pushed her toward her wardrobe, almost gently. Through the blood-spattered sandsilk, she glimpsed shadows moving. What is he doing here? she blurted.
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