Ghost! he shouted. He wouldn't! The queen picked up a letter. He was a pitiful thing. Just as quickly, the look became annoyance.
Laughing, Tyrion regarded the Mountain with fresh eyes. On his breastplate was the three-headed dragon of his House, wrought all in rubies that flashed like fire in the sunlight. Pebbles rained down around them as Lharys came springing and sliding down the ridge. The shifting lamplight linmed their stony scales, and shimmering motes of jade and scarlet and gold swam in the air around them, like courtiers around a king.
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