“He remembered the smell of her hair, the warmth of her body.. and the look on her face as she slit the old man’s throat. You were wrong to love her, a voice whispered. You were wrong to leave her, a different voice insisted.”
Growing up at Winterfell, all I ever wanted was to escape, to come here, to the capital. To see the southern knights and their painted armor, King’s Landing after dark, all the candles burning in all those windows.