16/02/2026 04:01

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Yes? he said. You recall. For the love you say you bear me, help him now. What of it? I had hoped for some word of my father.

Sansa heard excited voices buzzing like a hive of bees. Fat and awkward and frightened he might be, but Samwell Tarly was no fool. He sprawled on the ground, his legs tangled under him, one foot in the stream. He had promised to watch the final tilts with Sansa; Septa Mordane was ill today, and his daughter was determined not to miss the end of the jousting.