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- Джордж Мартин
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- Игра престолов
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- Стр. 446/751
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It
was
midday
when
Septa
Mordane
knocked
upon
her
door
.
"
Sansa
.
Your
lord
father
will
see
you
now
.
"
Sansa
sat
up
.
"
Lady
,
"
she
whispered
.
For
a
moment
it
was
as
if
the
direwolf
was
there
in
the
room
,
looking
at
her
with
those
golden
eyes
,
sad
and
knowing
.
She
had
been
dreaming
,
she
realized
.
Lady
was
with
her
,
and
they
were
running
together
,
and
...
and
...
trying
to
remember
was
like
trying
to
catch
the
rain
with
her
fingers
.
The
dream
faded
,
and
Lady
was
dead
again
.
"
Sansa
.
"
The
rap
came
again
,
sharply
.
"
Do
you
hear
me
?
"
"
Yes
,
Septa
,
"
she
called
out
.
"
Might
I
have
a
moment
to
dress
,
please
?
"
Her
eyes
were
red
from
crying
,
but
she
did
her
best
to
make
herself
beautiful
.
Lord
Eddard
was
bent
over
a
huge
leather-bound
book
when
Septa
Mordane
marched
her
into
the
solar
,
his
plaster-wrapped
leg
stiff
beneath
the
table
.
"
Come
here
,
Sansa
,
"
he
said
,
not
unkindly
,
when
the
septa
had
gone
for
her
sister
.
"
Sit
beside
me
.
"
He
closed
the
book
.
Septa
Mordane
returned
with
Arya
squirming
in
her
grasp
.
Sansa
had
put
on
a
lovely
pale
green
damask
gown
and
a
look
of
remorse
,
but
her
sister
was
still
wearing
the
ratty
leathers
and
roughspun
she
'd
worn
at
breakfast
.
"
Here
is
the
other
one
,
"
the
septa
announced
.
"
My
thanks
,
Septa
Mordane
.
I
would
talk
to
my
daughters
alone
,
if
you
would
be
so
kind
.
"
The
septa
bowed
and
left
.
"
Arya
started
it
,
"
Sansa
said
quickly
,
anxious
to
have
the
first
word
.
"
She
called
me
a
liar
and
threw
an
orange
at
me
and
spoiled
my
dress
,
the
ivory
silk
,
the
one
Queen
Cersei
gave
me
when
I
was
betrothed
to
Prince
Joffrey
.
She
hates
that
I
'm
going
to
marry
the
prince
.
She
tries
to
spoil
everything
,
Father
,
she
ca
n't
stand
for
anything
to
be
beautiful
or
nice
or
splendid
.
"
"
Enough
,
Sansa
.
"
Lord
Eddard
's
voice
was
sharp
with
impatience
.
Arya
raised
her
eyes
.
"
I
'm
sorry
,
Father
.
I
was
wrong
and
I
beg
my
sweet
sister
's
forgiveness
.
"
