Ser Vardis swiveled, bringing up his heavy shield. Jon raised the hood of his heavy cloak and gave the horse her head. You are the Hand of the King and Protector of the Realm. It hurt ever so much, Maester Pycelle was giving him milk of the poppy, and they say that milk of the poppy fills your head with clouds.
I thank you, my lord, but my own Maester Luwin has already seen to my hurts. Come with us, Uncle. The tarts were still warm from the oven. Tyrion wondered what it would be like to have a twin, and decided that he would rather not know.
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