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His voice whispered close to her face, his breath washing over the pale skin of his mother, "Are you cold, mother? Shall I heighten the fire?"
Burning her cheeks crimson, Catelyn slid her hands onto her eldest son's chest and murmured, "No. Catelyn sighed heavily, her body still suffering little trembles and shakes Toys Tubent. That's where her eldest son Robb found her, restlessly smoothing Bran's black hair back from his pale, sweaty forehead.
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