Azrael returned to Thornfield and immersed himself in the battle. He identified the Crimson Cross's weak points and exploited them ruthlessly, making tactical decisions that saved hundreds of lives.
He fought on the walls himself. He was commanded, fought and directed his forces continuously.
"Your Majesty, the eastern wall is holding!" Adrian reported, appearing at his side during a brief pause in fighting.
"Redirect forces to the northern gate. That's where they'll push next."
"Already done, Your Majesty."
"Casualty count?"
"Seventy three dead, two hundred wounded. It could have been much worse without your tactics."
"Still seventy three people died under my protection. Update me when the count changes."
"Your Majesty, are you…"
"I'm fine. Focus on the battle."
But he wasn't fine. He kept seeing Lyanna's face. He kept hearing his own cruel words echoing in his head.
What the hell was I thinking? Why did I say the cruelest things to her?
