[ As Patrick Harper would say it: God save Ireland.
There's a certain timbre to a person's voice. A certain tremble. Like the way their eyes will flicker sideways then downwards. How their eyes will widen. It's the look of someone who sees someone they did not. Sharpe knows it well. It's the brief seconds on the faces of Hagman, Harris, Perkis, and Cooper when they see him return from the dead (when he's not really been dead at all), and here, he's seeing it more and more often.
Sharpe sighs. A quiet little thing. ]
I ain't no Lord, lass. [ Softly. If Ned Stark speaks with dignity, Richard Sharpe's voice reminds one of a chipped sword. ] Alayne's a pretty name, and I'd remember it if I've heard it 'fore. But I haven't, lass.
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There's a certain timbre to a person's voice. A certain tremble. Like the way their eyes will flicker sideways then downwards. How their eyes will widen. It's the look of someone who sees someone they did not. Sharpe knows it well. It's the brief seconds on the faces of Hagman, Harris, Perkis, and Cooper when they see him return from the dead (when he's not really been dead at all), and here, he's seeing it more and more often.
Sharpe sighs. A quiet little thing. ]
I ain't no Lord, lass. [ Softly. If Ned Stark speaks with dignity, Richard Sharpe's voice reminds one of a chipped sword. ] Alayne's a pretty name, and I'd remember it if I've heard it 'fore. But I haven't, lass.