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Arya

           I’llaskElmar,shethought.Elmarwilltellme.Theleecheswriggledslowlybetweenherfingersasshepluckedthemcarefullyfromthelord’sbody,theirpalebodiesmoisttothetouchanddistendedwithblood.They’reonlyleeches,sheremindedherself.IfIclosedmyhand,they’dsquishbetweenmyfingers.

           "Thereisaletterfromyourladywife."Qyburnpulledarollofparchmentfromhissleeve.Thoughheworemaester’srobes,therewasnochainabouthisneck;itwaswhisperedthathehadlostitfordabblinginnecromancy.

           "Youmayreadit,"Boltonsaid.

           TheLadyWaldawrotefromtheTwinsalmosteveryday,butalltheletterswerethesame."Iprayforyoumorn,noon,andnight,mysweetlord,"shewrote,"andcountthedaysuntilyousharemybedagain.Returntomesoon,andIwillgiveyoumanytruebornsonstotaketheplaceofyourdearDomericandruletheDreadfortafteryou."Aryapicturedaplumppinkbabyinacradle,coveredwithplumppinkleeches.

           ShebroughtLordBoltonadampwashclothtowipedownhissofthairlessbody."Iwillsendaletterofmyown,"hetoldtheonetimemaester.

           "TotheLadyWalda?"

           "ToSerHelmanTallhart."

           AriderfromSerHelmanhadcometwodayspast.TallhartmenhadtakenthecastleoftheDarrys,acceptingthesurrenderofitsLannistergarrisonafterabriefsiege.

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