whilst my men spread disturbing tales amongstLord Tyrell's servants. Roose Bolton had a sweeter smellto him, yet no more pleasant. You killed Mycah, she said once more, daring him to deny it. It will be like playing a game, won't it? Are you fond of games, Alayne? The new name would take some getting used to.
Bran could hear the softcrackle of the flames, the wind stirring the leaves in the night, the creak ofthe skinny weirwood reaching for the moon. Small wonder her sons hide behind theirwalls. The Stormcrows at midday, the Second Sons two hourslater. A duel ensued, though in view of the prince's youth and high birth, itwas only to first blood.
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