said, 'I will not kill a man for loyalty, nor for fighting well,' and sent his own maester to tend Ser Barristan's wounds. You saw for yourself. This night I would look on your face. Nymeria growled and spun away, affronted.
Ned looked irritated. Whoever his mother had been, she had left little of herself in her son. She had slept longer than she intended. Ned felt a flash of anger; this was no place for a girl.
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