When you play the game of thrones, you win or you die, Cersei Lannister had told him in the godswood. He was a fire in human skin. the way he smiled. His eye was still good, but all around it was a twisted mass of scar, slick black flesh hard as leather, pocked with craters and fissured by deep cracks that gleamed red and wet when he moved.
You in there? No! she shouted. And her prince was there. She scowled. My sons have taken fifty ears among them.
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