[ This is unwise, she has already had too much, and used too much of her power the night before. This is not like poison, she cannot clean it from within herself, in wine, she, too, is merely human. She spills none of it, in spite of her untidy movements and the blurry edges the world has taken on.

It takes more than one attempt to hand it back.

How many times, she wonders, had he spoken those words? To his sister, more of a wife than Selyse had been to Stannis, perhaps? Certainly not to strangers, they had tried to find evidence of that to no avail. Not that it matters now – they are gone, ascended if they were lucky, though she sincerely doubts that. ]

I cursed your oldest, once, with blood. [ That isn't knowing, though. ] But these things are fickle. It isn't what killed him any more than it killed the Young Wolf. And what killed Renly...

[ Everybody wants a miracle. Very, very few people want to know what it takes to wring a miracle from the hands of God. ]

You haven't been much of a liar, here.