The grip of her wooden sword was slick with sweat, and Arya was breathing hard when she reached the turret stair. A knight of the Kingsguard stood beneath the arch of the door with five Lannister guardsmen arrayed behind him. He looked somehow smaller and more vulnerable, like the youth she had wed in the sept at Riverrun, fifteen long years gone. but you'll do well.
When the guards passed him, he took the tower steps two at a time. At the very least he would send his birds winging south to King's Landing, and he might well dare more than that. Or Cersei's. There is no privacy in a khalasar, and they do not understand sin or shame as we do.
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