Grand Maester Pycelle blinked in dismay. Raised yourself a crop o' turnips and acrop o' sons. There's always fighting there. Six times, Thoros? Six times is too many.
He scratched at the scar of his nose and gave the Dornishman a tasteof his evil eye. She looked more comfortable dressed as a man, butnothing would ever make her look handsome. He'll be waiting. If you stillmean to .
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