Terrible Love, please and thank you!
Brienne crawled inside her tent and pulled her knees to her chest, her skin burning with shame.
My lord has strange tastes, his bannerman had said. First his own twin, and now this poor creature. At least the sister was beautiful.
Kingslayer’s Whore, she heard reply in more than one voice, out of the recesses of her memory.
I would not touch that beast for all the gold in Casterly Rock, she remembered. Jaime had said it when they were with the Brotherhood. He was angry with her then, and making a show of it for their captors. She knew that. But still, he had said it.
Now this poor creature. At least the sister was beautiful.
She sat quietly and still for the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon, and the weight of her self-reproach pressed on her more and more until it seemed it would crush her.
