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Chapter 125: THE COST OF THE GAME
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Chapter 127: THE FORGED CHAIN
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... tossed the stained linen cloth onto the polished wood. It landed with a soft, damp slap near the crushed, bloody remnants of Petyr Baelish’s fingers.
No one spoke. The great lords of Westeros, men who commanded tens of thousands of swords, sat perfectly rigid in their chairs. The sudden, brutal dismemberment of the Master of Coin had completely shattered the illusion of safety within the council. They realized, with cold clarity, that Eddard Stark was not bound by the polite traditions o ...
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