| Text
| - "Tell me what you think, Gammer Wilde."
- "What do you make of this, Maester Lucas?"
- "I think there is precious little solid, my [lord/lady]. Conjecture and stories. Prophecy and magic are the retreat of the superstitious."
- "I assume he has shared what he found with you, Septa Eleanor?"
- "He has, my lady." She hesitates. "I think it's all nonsense. I caution you against holding to the supersitions of the Drowned God cult."
- "I don't hold to superstition either. But we ought lay claim to the Seal, nonetheless."
- "I care nothing for the Drowned God. But this Seal will be ours. Do you think it exists?"
- She looks sidelong at the others. "I'm but smallfolk, m'[lord/lady]. Not wise in books or prayers. But the powers of gods are not so neatly ignored."
- "This is a relic of the Drowned God. It should be ours."
- Maester Lucas enters, with some of your other advisors. "Have you had time to read the pages I marked regarding the Drowned God's Seal, my lady?"
|