Yet that very night, his brother came to Bran's bedchamber pale and shaken, after the fires had burned low in the Great Hall. By the time she reached the shadow of the royal sept on the far side of the yard, Arya was cold with sweat, but no one had raised the hue and cry. I didn't do anything wrong, Sansa pleaded with him. Lord Stark, Jon said.
They know, Jon realized. You have a daughter. And whose fault is that, sweet sister? Bran studied the ledge. 584 GEORGE R.
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