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- Джордж Мартин
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- Стр. 214/751
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Arya
could
not
lie
to
him
.
She
lowered
her
eyes
.
Lord
Eddard
Stark
sighed
.
"
My
nine-year-old
daughter
is
being
armed
from
my
own
forge
,
and
I
know
nothing
of
it
.
The
Hand
of
the
King
is
expected
to
rule
the
Seven
Kingdoms
,
yet
it
seems
I
can
not
even
rule
my
own
household
.
How
is
it
that
you
come
to
own
a
sword
,
Arya
?
Where
did
you
get
this
?
"
Arya
chewed
her
lip
and
said
nothing
.
She
would
not
betray
Jon
,
not
even
to
their
father
.
After
a
while
,
Father
said
,
"
I
do
n't
suppose
it
matters
,
truly
.
"
He
looked
down
gravely
at
the
sword
in
his
hands
.
"
This
is
no
toy
for
children
,
least
of
all
for
a
girl
.
What
would
Septa
Mordane
say
if
she
knew
you
were
playing
with
swords
?
"
"
I
was
n't
playing
,
"
Arya
insisted
.
"
I
hate
Septa
Mordane
.
"
"
That
's
enough
.
"
Her
father
's
voice
was
curt
and
hard
.
"
The
septa
is
doing
no
more
than
is
her
duty
,
though
gods
know
you
have
made
it
a
struggle
for
the
poor
woman
.
Your
mother
and
I
have
charged
her
with
the
impossible
task
of
making
you
a
lady
.
"
"
I
do
n't
want
to
be
a
lady
!
"
Arya
flared
.
"
I
ought
to
snap
this
toy
across
my
knee
here
and
now
,
and
put
an
end
to
this
nonsense
.
"
"
Needle
would
n't
break
,
"
Arya
said
defiantly
,
but
her
voice
betrayed
her
words
.
