Your Grace? Melara? No. Nuncle! Nuncle! Bending, she snatched up a twisted golden collar and bounded up the steps. A lion may be fierce enough on land, but at sea the kraken rules supreme. I must make her understand.
Have a listen. You will think me a dreadhil slut. Let them hear, Jaime thought. No one sang up there, not since Marillion.
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