A great fire burned in the hearth, but there was no trace of warmth in Lysa's voice. His hand curled around the smooth dragonbone hilt, and he slammed the blade into the table, felt it bite into the wood. Jon smiled. The small council consents.
Through the blood-spattered sandsilk, she glimpsed shadows moving. In the place of the traitor Stannis Baratheon, it is the wish of His Grace that his lady mother, the Queen Regent Cersei Lanniste Suddenly her eyes opened, and she was staring right at him. As you command.
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