He reached up and undid the clasps that held his cloak in place, and the heavy white garment slithered from his shoulders to fall in a heap on the floor. She had not washed since the day her father died, and she was startled at how filthy the water became. Is lie, he muttered darkly. Robb is only a boy, Ned said, aghast.
Chiggen stopped looting the corpses of the brigands long enough to snort and lick his lips. It all seemed like a nightmare to her now, everything since Bran's fall, a terrible dream of blood and grief, but she had the pain in her hands to remind her that it was real. In Highgarden there are fields of golden roses that stretch away as far as the eye can see. I hate it.
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