He lifted his hand, the gesture pained and feeble. The older man hastened off. And when she was done, Eddard Stark sat dazed beside the table, the dagger in his hand. Sometimes he could almost forget that it was there, the way you forgot about the sky or the earth underfoot, but there were other times when it seemed as if there was nothing else in the world.
He wore a black velvet doublet with the crowned stag of Baratheon worked upon the breast in golden thread, and a golden mantle with a cloak of black and gold squares. Long enough to dispose of Lord Stannis. If his lordship wants this helm, make him a gift of it. Ned was soaked through to the bone, and his soul had grown cold.
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