Old Nan was asleep in her chair. Ser Willis Wode followed, swinging a spiked morningstar around his head. Above the Vale, the Eyrie stood high and impregnable, its towers reaching for the sky. Dany felt a sharp pain in her belly, a wetness on her thighs.
Doreah wept. It was cold in the cell, the wind screamed night and day, and worst of all, the floor sloped. Robb, he's very sick. One of the dead ones.
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