iron throne of ice and fire

Chapter 623 Winterfell 2
Patting her daughter's hand, Lady Catelyn said with a pleased expression, "You've done well, my Sansa. I'm so proud of you."

"That's my job."

Looking at her obedient daughter, Lady Catelyn stroked her hair and jokingly said in a good mood, "Yes, that's your responsibility too, Miss Stark."

……

"Mom~"

While the mother and daughter were talking, the study door was suddenly pushed open, and little Rickon ran in, followed by an apologetic-looking guard.

Although Rickon Stark's appearance is that of the heir Tully, his personality is full of wildness, and sometimes even Lady Catelyn is helpless with this young son.

The youngest daughter, with the blood of a wolf flowing through her veins, was at least afraid of Sister Mordan's bath brush...

She said sternly, "Ricken, knocking and asking for permission is basic courtesy."

Rickon paused, scratching his long, untrimmed maroon hair. "Sorry, I just forgot..."

Lady Catelyn was not going to let her always impetuous youngest son off easily this time. Sansa then spoke up, "Little Rickon, you didn't knock on my door before you came into my room yesterday."

Rickon shifted his gaze, looked up at his much taller sister, and said in a somewhat strange tone, "Sister, but I already apologized to you last night..."

As he spoke, he paused, realizing the terrifying look in his mother's eyes.

Sansa was furious: "But you haven't earned my forgiveness."

"but I……"

Lady Catelyn interrupted sternly: “Ricken Stark, I will have the maids take away your toys and keep them for you for two... um, three days.”

Then she added, "If you do it again in the future, the storage period will be calculated by month, remember that?"

The wolf cubs of Winterfell dared not object to their mother's "sentence," and little Rickon said weakly, "Yes, ma'am."

A smile flashed across her face, and Lady Caitlin straightened her skirt slightly, saying in the same tone, "Alright, now you can tell me why you barged into the study."

Upon hearing this, little Rickon exclaimed excitedly, "Mommy, the King's heavy cavalry is so impressive! I want to have cavalry like them too!"

"That's a good dream."

Lady Catelyn gestured for her youngest son to come closer, then stroked his unruly hair before saying, "You can wait until the Duke of Winterfell returns to discuss this matter, but only if..."

She stared intently: "...You have to go to the hairdresser to cut these things off."

……

After Rickon Jr. left with a humiliated expression, Mrs. Caitlin turned to her eldest daughter, who looked somewhat uneasy.

"My Sansa, what are you thinking? Can you share it with me?"

Sansa, sitting upright, unconsciously gripped the hem of her skirt, avoiding her mother's gaze, and said softly, "I just envy Rickon. I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't be like this..."

Lady Caitlin sighed inwardly, reached out and pulled her daughter into her arms, gently patting her back: "Is it because he's a boy?"

After a pause, Sansa nodded silently in her mother's arms.

He gently stroked Sansa's silky hair: "My daughter, there is no mercy in the North."

Then she murmured, “The master of the North is the Duke of Winterfell, and his wife can only offer advice; this is the tradition of the First Men.”

Leaving her mother's warm embrace, Sansa asked with slightly red eyes, "The First Men?"

Lady Caitlin looked at her and nodded slightly: "Yes, First Men. Once, the descendants of the First Men were seen as rude barbarians by the Southerners, but now the King of the Seven Kingdoms is a descendant of the First Men."

"Your Majesty Grim Kleber..."

Sansa nodded gently: "He is a good knight. I misunderstood him before, but he was very forgiving."

Lady Catelyn's soft hand brushed Sansa's delicate cheek: "Yes, he behaves more like a Southern knight, but if you pay attention to his manner of doing things, you wouldn't think so."

After a pause, she said kindly, "Out of respect, you should truly understand this king, as this will directly affect the future of the North, and..."

Her blue eyes stared directly at Sansa: "...Your future."

……

Back in her room, Sansa dismissed her maids and sat alone at her dressing table.

She was still pondering the phrase "your future." She felt that her mother seemed to be hinting at something, but she couldn't find the answer for the moment.

What does that mean? The people of the North are very xenophobic, and according to the traditions of the Seven Kingdoms, even the king cannot directly interfere in the issue of succession to Winterfell.

Why did her mother specifically remind her to "please" the king?

As Sansa pondered, her thoughts drifted back to the heir to Winterfell…

Mother was right. The people of the North are indeed merciless; they only recognize the strong as kings.

Although Rickon was young, he loved swordsmanship, and everyone said he was a born warrior; she could see the satisfaction in their eyes.

Sansa looked at her thin arms. The more adept she became at handling the affairs of Winterfell, the more...despair she felt.

She was certain that the people of the North longed for an heir who could lead them into battle, not a delicate flower of the North.

Even Arya, who's always causing trouble, is more popular than her...

Sansa gently raised her eyes. Her reflection in the mirror showed a beauty inherited from her mother: cascading red hair, milky white skin, and sapphire-like eyes…

Although the younger sister and brother also inherited their mother's physical features, their Stark characteristics are more pronounced.

She herself was more like Tully...

In the mirror, she suddenly froze like a stone statue, and then her pupils contracted sharply.

Could it be that Mother was hinting at her maternal great-uncle's Benliu City?

.........

.........

"Aha!"

"The Little Devil, along with the witch and the mercenary, the three of us are the best combination in the Seven Kingdoms!"

Tyrion leaned back in his chair, holding a wine glass in one hand and bobbing his other foot.

Sir Bronn grinned and agreed, "Absolutely perfect."

Tyrion grinned, his gaze landing on the Red Priestess: "So, are you sure it's a betrayal, Lady Melisandre?"

Tyrion was left behind at the Stark camp, despite repeatedly bidding farewell to the Duke of Stark...

Then, today he was visited by the Red Witch.

To be honest, he was eager to go back and "slander" the Duke of Highgarden in order to perfectly extricate himself from his predicament.

After all, jumping between the Duke of Highgarden and the Duke of Winterfell is no fun job...

"The night is dark and treacherous. You don't seem to welcome me, my lovely little lion?"

Melisandre's voice, still carrying the Jade Sea accent, was as melodious as ever. Tyrion smiled at her and said, "Beautiful lady, I am only concerned for your safety. My current situation is no different from that of a prisoner."

"What a kind little lion..."

Melisandre then walked to the chair next to Tyrion: "Let me guess, did the Duke of Stark's actions surprise you?"

She gracefully sat down gently: "Furthermore, I serve the true God, the King of Light, and my actions have nothing to do with loyalty or the like."

"Oh--"

After a moment of reflection, Tyrion grinned at her and said, "I heard you were banished. Stannis is a cold, hard, and unforgiving piece of pure iron."

Melisandre's lips curled slightly: "Stannis is kind; he granted me permission to leave."

Tyrion's eyes flickered slightly. He took a sip of his drink, then scratched his cheek with his index finger before slowly speaking, "Oh? You're an honest adventurer. If it were me... if I were Stark, I would definitely choose to leave without saying goodbye, after all..."

He grinned: "I'm a despicable dwarf."

Melisandre shook her head slightly and said, "I'm not here to pledge allegiance; I'm here to save lives."

Her eyes seemed to burn with fire: "This is all the will of the King of Light."

Tyrion recalled the rumors he'd recently heard: the Wolf had risen from the dead…

He asked with a smile, "Is your coming to see me also the will of that God?"

Melisandre's graceful figure trembled slightly. She shook her head and said, "The true god has not yet noticed you, clever little lion."

(End of this chapter)