Maester Aemon was going to a better place as well. Once we make port in Braavos. The only drinkers were three Tyroshi seamen in a corner, growling at each other through green and purple beards. No more mouth.
What say you, priest? Where should I send my longships? Aeron scowled. His aunt rolled her eyes. burning away all her rage and fear, filling her with resolve. As you command, Ser Boros huffed, glancing at the king uneasily.
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