Ser Jorah frowned. Thank the gods. Princess Myrcella and Prince Tommen, Arya thought. Ser Rodrik tugged at his whiskers in dismay.
Her hair was matted with blood. Or left the road to cut through the woods. If the room with the monsters had been dark, the hall was the blackest pit in the seven hells. Jon, no, the small boy whispered with an anxious glance at Ser Alliser Thorne.
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