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It had to stop somewhere. How's the arm? he asked, bringing her out of her thoughts. It throbs like mad, she admitted. The Bird Man says it must be stitched together. |
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He was in a black mood, and not just because a few street urchins wanted to pelt him with dung. His marriage was a daily agony. Sansa Stark remained a maiden, and half the castle seemed to know it. |
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How could I deserve being your mistress if you must shelter me from your griefs? Tell me. I did while we drove here. You laid out a skeleton for me. |
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Casually, yes, and light as a feather, but she could feel it like a bar of iron. He lay not quite so far forward, propping his jaw in his right hand, looking at her. |
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He and I have both lived too long in secret, it has surely misshaped us in ways we don't feel, but he prowled the world for thrice the time that I abided in my Russia. |
