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- Джордж Мартин
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She
should
have
gone
,
silent
as
a
mouse
,
but
something
had
hold
of
her
.
"
My
lord
,
"
she
asked
,
"
will
you
take
me
with
you
when
you
leave
Harrenhal
?
"
He
turned
to
stare
at
her
,
and
from
the
look
in
his
eyes
it
was
as
if
his
supper
had
just
spoken
to
him
.
"
Did
I
give
you
leave
to
question
me
,
Nan
?
"
"
No
,
my
lord
.
"
She
lowered
her
eyes
.
"
You
should
not
have
spoken
,
then
.
Should
you
?
"
"
No
.
My
lord
.
"
For
a
moment
he
looked
amused
.
"
I
will
answer
you
,
just
this
once
.
I
mean
to
give
Harrenhal
to
Lord
Vargo
when
I
return
to
the
north
.
You
will
remain
here
,
with
him
.
"
"
But
I
don
’
t
—
"
she
started
.
He
cut
her
off
.
"
I
am
not
in
the
habit
of
being
questioned
by
servants
,
Nan
.
Must
I
have
your
tongue
out
?
"
He
would
do
it
as
easily
as
another
man
might
cuff
a
dog
,
she
knew
.
"
No
,
my
lord
.
"
