By the end, the little lordling was so weak he could not stand. Or perhaps he was just leading them in circles, waiting for that rider to catch up. Littlefinger and Lord Petyr looked so very much alike. It seemed to take a lifetime.
Do nothing. Myrcella would have time enough to learn the history of die orphans on her voyage up the river. Cover yourself. A harbor was visible off to her right, a tangle of piers and quays crowded with big-bellied whalers out of Ibben.
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