The wounds were worse than Ser Jorah had led her to believe. It was, oh, a year ago, no more, Jon Arryn was still the King's Hand, and I went to the city to see my sons ride in the tourney. He looked at her as he fell and murmured Cat as the bright blood came flowing out between his mailed fingers. Arya ran toward the pier.
She had to learn if he was truly ready. Bran pulled him close and hugged him. That letter. I'll help you find him.
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