He strode across the tent, whirled, strode back, his face dark and angry. Innkeep, a servant's voice called out behind her, we have horses that want stabling, and my lord of Lannister requires a room and a hot bath. Rhaegar was the last dragon, he told her. I want no birds bringing word of my son's movements to Lord Tywin.
In two smaller sepulchres on either side were his children. He knew where they were bound. The senior among them would have been no older than Bran when she went north. The things we love destroy us every time, lad.
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