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In every one of them, somebody was shouting. 'You've been unconscious two full days,' Klein told her, as if this went some way to explaining the cacophony.
Norman climbed out, and looked back at the imprint of his body, slowly disappearing as the chair whirred and adjusted itself. Harry poked one of the leather pads experimentally, heard the gurgle.
That was the way of war. The smallfolk were slaughtered, while the highborn were held for ransom. Remind me to thank the gods that I was bom a Lannister.