It was Ghost who knew what to do. His bristling golden side-whiskers framed a face so still it might have been a mask, but Tyrion could see tiny beads of sweat dappling his father's shaven head. He won't move until I tell him to. Ser Boros and Ser Meryn are the queen's creatures to the bone, and I have deep suspicions of the others.
That was when they heard the sound, low and deep and shivery. One of them finally stepped into the circle, grabbed a dancer by the arm, pushed her down to the ground, and mounted her right there, as a stallion mounts a mare. The bells in his hair will sing his coming, and the milk men in the stone tents will fear his name. No, she had known before she woke.
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