She wants to feed the crows, like they did at the Red Wedding. 1 have seen their peoples garland them with flowers, and shed the blood of goats and bulls and children in their names. He had to keep one hand on his swordbelt as he ran. Or I could take the kingsroad south, Brienne thought.
For a moment she sounded younger than Myrcella. The room was steamv. For half a heartbeat she let herself pretend that it was her home ahead. Anger was better than tears, better than grief, better than guilt.
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