Viserys had been a boy of eight when they fled King's Landing to escape the advancing armies of the Usurper, but Daenerys had been only a quickening in their mother's womb. Should the gods in their caprice grant Daenerys Targaryen a son, the realm must bleed. Ned, she called softly. She held Needle in her left hand, her sword hand, the candle in her right fist.
You are not fool enough to believe that, my lord. All he was, he owed Jon Arryn, but when the widow fled to the Eyrie with her household, he stayed in King's Landing and prospered. Lannister raised his head. Khal Drogo sat, bells ringing.
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