Arya stood in the center of the room, alone but for Jory Cassel, every eye upon her. She had a crown on her head, and everyone she had ever known came before her, to bend the knee and say their courtesies. That rustling, that's them talking back. Tyrion grinned.
Let's ride, then. I know he's acknowledged that boy at Storm's End, the one he fathered the night Lord Stannis wed. Arya climbed up on the window and sat beside him, to a chorus of thuds and grunts from the yard below. A few torches burnt smokily from sconces on the walls.
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