My hair! her auntshrieked. Look at how thick the moss grows on the stones. My father has been dying for a long time. He could smell the burning blood again, andhear the leech hissing and spitting on the brazier's hot coals.
It wasmine as much as his. Yet he persisted. nfirmed the threat he'd made to Cersei thenight of their supper, confirmed every bloody thing but the poisoning itself. I could not have been older thanfour, which would have made him five or six.
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