He looked around. Petyr had begged her for a favor he might wear, but she had turned him away. Whose death, Ser Barristan? The queen's voice was soft as silk, but her words carried the whole length of the hall. As you will, my lord, Jory said.
And I am Daenerys Stormhorn, Daenerys of House Targaryen, of the blood of Aegon the Conqueror and Maegor the Cruel and old Valyria before them. He was there and he was gone again, his silvery armor obscured by the trees once more. He dared defy Ser Alliser only to a point, and he feared he was well beyond it now. Worse, she was beautiful.
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