29.
Between the pillars on either side: granite sculptures of the deceased sitting on thrones, their backs against their own sepulchres. Great stone direwolves curl around their feet. Ned stops at the last tomb and lifts the lantern. The crypt continues on into the darkness ahead of them, but beyond this point the tombs are empty, waiting for him and his children. In front of him, illuminated by the lantern, a beautiful young woman stares out at them with blind, granite eyes: Lyanna Stark, Ned’s sister.
ROBERT She was more beautiful than that.
Silently, Robert kneels and bows his head. Ned joins him. Robert’s voice is hoarse with remembered grief.
ROBERT Did you have to bury her in a place like this? She should be on a hill somewhere, with the sun and the clouds above her.
NED She was a Stark. This is her place.
The king rises to touch her cheek, his fingers brushing the rough stone as gently as if it were living flesh.
ROBERT In my dreams, I kill him every night.
NED It’s done. The Targaryens are gone.
The warrior Robert used to be surfaces in his face, pitiless.
ROBERT Not all of them.
NED We should return, your Grace. Your wife will be waiting.
ROBERT To hell with my wife.
That said, he starts back the way they came. Ned follows.
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