Sweet Sansa, Queen Cersei said, laying a soft hand on her wrist. The Dothraki were shouting, Mirri Maz Duur wailing inside the tent like nothing human, Quaro pleading for water as he died. The stars seemed brighter up here, so close that she could almost touch them, and the horned moon was huge in the clear black sky. The late summer snows had been heavy this moonturn.
Varys bobbed his head. The Eyrie, she heard Marillion murmur, awed. The moon? He told me the moon was an egg, Khaleesi, the Lysene girl said. I promise.
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