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| - "Tell me what you think, Gammer Wilde."
- "What do you make of this, Maester Lucas?"
- "I assume he has shared what he found with you, Septa Eleanor?"
- "I think there is precious little solid, my [lady/lord]. Conjecture and stories. Prophecy and magic are the retreat of the superstitious."
- She looks sidelong at the others. "I'm but smallfolk, [m'lady/m'lord]. Not wise in books or prayers. The Old Gods had no truck with dragons."
- "I care nothing for old tales. But this Fang should be ours. Do you think it exists?"
- "I don't hold to superstition either. But we ought to lay claim to the Fang, nonetheless."
- "This is a relic of Old Valyria, regardless. It should be ours."
- Maester Lucas enters, with some of your other advisors. "Have you had time to read the pages I marked regarding the Dragon's Fang, my [lady/lord]?"
- "He has, my [lady/lord]." She hesitates. "I think it's all superstition and heathen nonsense, from a time before the Valyrians had heard of the Seven."
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