The guardsmen left their mounts outside the walls and escorted her through a narrow postern door, then up endless steps to a tower. Her path ran north to Winterfell, where her sons and her duty were waiting for her. What are you reading about? he asked. I will never make a swordsman.
Twenty day, thirty, fifty maybe. She could not have asked for a stronger sign. The shadow of a new beard darkened his jaw. The earth was a thousand miles beneath him and he could not fly.
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