I want to serve in the Night's Watch, Uncle. His soot-dark armor seemed to blot out the sun. Ser Meryn Trant ran out of patience. A tree was growing out between the stones on the north side of the Gatehouse Tower, its gnarled limbs festooned with ropy white blankets of ghostskin.
Desmond laughed. The singer wept and swore he would never sing that song again, but the king insisted. Cupping her fingers around the flickering candle, she went out the window as they were coming in the door, without ever getting a glimpse of who it was. Lord Baelish stroked his little pointed beard and said, Nothing? Tell me, child, why would you have sent Ser Loras? Sansa had no choice but to explain about heroes and monsters.
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