Why should I let you? For a moment her anger flared. Enough! the king roared, rising from his seat, his voice thick with irritation. It felt queer to look down on him this way, when he'd spent his whole life looking up at him, but when you sat on Hodor's back you looked down on everyone. His skin was the color of polished copper, his thick mustachios bound with gold and bronze rings.
That is not the way, boy. For once the septon seemed sober. Bran kept Dancer to a walk, holding the reins lightly and looking all around him as they went. That means little of itself, to be sure.
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