Arya was still going on, brushing out Nymeria's tangles and chattering about things she'd seen on the trek south. Ser Jorah laughed. Dany saw naked fear on the faces of the Dothraki. Her prince-no, her king now!-took the steps of the Iron Throne two at a time, while his mother was seated with the council.
It was fashioned in the likeness of a snarling black hound, fearsome to behold, but Tyrion had always thought it a great improvement over Clegane's hideously burned face. What are you doing? he asked. Lord Walder snorted with disdain. Littlefinger groaned in dismay.
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