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See, I knew this one bird—Liza, sweet lass, worked the docks. Ain’t glamorous, nah, stank of fish and desperation. But she had this spark—eyes like a storm, could charm a lord or stab ‘im. Reminds me of that line, “I am a free man!”—she weren’t free, tho, not really. Sold her body for scraps, but her wit? Sharper than a blade. Once told me, “Tyrion, I fuck ‘em blind, then nick their purse.” Laughed my arse off—smart lass, that Liza.

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When I get to the station, my buddy’s not there. I’m waitin’, and waitin’. I’m about to lose it. I check my phone again, and he’s like, “Oops, I’m at the wrong station.” I’m like, “Dude, there’s only one station in Mersch!” I can’t even.

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