That was the new verse. And by tomorrow, Elias would have the words to make it immortal.
As his fingers danced across the strings, the tavern walls seemed to melt away. He sang of a time when the mountains were taller and the dragons hadn’t yet turned to stone. His voice rose into a clear, haunting tenor, painting pictures of silver headdresses and blood-stained snow. The Ballad Singer
"Tonight," Elias rasped, his voice a low vibration that seemed to come from the floorboards themselves, "we sing of the Iron Queen and the Silk Thief." That was the new verse