Shagga's coat could have used a good brushing too, but it would have been less than tactful to mention it. Arya was suddenly afraid. The room where Sansa had been confined was at the top of the highest tower of Maegor's Holdfast. At the bedside hovered Grand Maester Pycelle, while Lord Renly paced restlessly before the shuttered windows.
I want to serve in the Night's Watch, Uncle. Reluctantly Arya surrendered her sword, wondering if she would ever hold it again. The only question that remains is, who can we find to kill her? Mormont craves a royal pardon, Lord Renly reminded them. Ghost, he called again.
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