She had been a little girl the last time she saw them, the day LordEddard Stark left Winterfell. The doublet is handsome, yes. Pale moonlight slanted down through the hole inthe dome, painting the branches of the weirwood as they strained up toward theroof. Only the first of those is truly her own, and it will soon deserther.
When he found himself in what had once been hisbedchamber, he stood a long moment, breathing the silence. The gift was heartfelt. A woman dressed in man's mail, pretending to be a knight. My father has been dying for a long time.
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