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... It was July, and the heat was oppressive. The waves of Blackwater Bay lapped lazily against the shore, powerless to ease the stifling summer air.

Red Keep, Godswood.

The towering Weirwood stood majestically, its crimson leaves spreading like a vast canopy, casting deep shadows over the exposed roots on the raised ground below. Rhaegar stood beneath it, his palms pressed against the pale, rough bark. His expression was calm, betraying no hint of discomfort.

“Your Grace, yo ...

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