And later these two brothers came before him, freeriders from the Dornish Marches, and pledged their swords to the service of the king. So Ned bent his head and wrote, but where the king had said my son Joffrey, he scrawled my heir instead. Aegon the Conqueror had commanded it built. Whose sword is that? Mine.
None of which stopped Arya, of course. Tyrion scratched the white wolf behind the ears. The pain was so bad he did not remember366 GEORGE R. Mormont and the Dothraki withdrew.
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