This is the King's own Hand. Ned loved him for that, for remembering her still after all these years. Some of the Dothraki began to mutter and back away. Life at Castle Black followed certain patterns; the mornings were for swordplay, the afternoons for work.
Ever so slightly, yet it was enough. Plainly Mormont was not pleased with that answer. He had never seen the eunuch dress in anything but silk and velvet and the richest damasks, and this man smelled of sweat instead of lilacs. Me? The man laughed.
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