I will place the driftwood crown upon your brow myself. The cousins are praying for the Mother's mercy. Look, the stars are coming out. The young knight's longsword hammered at his thigh, once, twice, thrice, screaming against the steel.
Is this my father's notion of torment? Not hot irons or the rack, but simple silence? That was so very like Doran Martell that Arianne had to laugh. m'lady, the younger told her. ' What castle is that meant to be? All castles,' said the captain's sister. and tried not to let his eyes wander to the cask of rum that held old Maester Aemon s body .
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