14/03/2026 21:12

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Moonlight shone down on the clearing, the ashes of the firepit, the snow-covered lean-to, the great rock, the little half-frozen stream. Hal shook his head. Halder delivered a tentative smack to his foe's upraised cheeks. He could see it still: a crown of winter roses, blue as frost.

Bran listened. Khaleesi, he said hesitantly, this is not done. Was there no end to Robert's folly? And to do this in his name, that was salt in the wound. Her master-at-arms gave a curt shake of his head.