iron throne of ice and fire

Chapter 639 The Lone Wolf Dies
Sansa sat there looking pitiful, and Green couldn't help but smile: "You could ask someone for help and learn to ask for help reasonably; that in itself is a kind of wisdom."

……

After bidding farewell to His Majesty the King, Sansa, accompanied by her handmaids, headed to Winterfell Castle.

When Sansa arrived at her mother's house, she was scolding Arya, which immediately made her feel much better.

"Mrs. Caitlin."

Sansa bowed slightly and came to her mother's side. Her eyes swept over Arya, who was glaring at her, and she said softly, "Mother, has my sister gotten into trouble again? Oh, don't be too sad. She's much better than before."

"Sansa, don't pretend to be kind, you..."

Arya, feeling a chill run down her spine after being met with a terrifying glare from Lady Caitlin, chose to shut up in protest.

Sansa had been wanting to teach Arya a lesson for a long time. She gave a sad, forced ladylike smile: "I'm your sister, my little sister, we're all born of wolves..."

Arya was furious. Sansa was not only hypocritical but also extremely cunning. She did it all on purpose!

However, Sansa's mother, who had been deceived by her, sternly warned, "And then what?"

Arya's little face puffed up, and she pouted: "...The Lone Wolf is dead."

Sansa was overjoyed, and the older sister comforted her younger sister, saying, "Arya, remember, we are sisters."

Where's my sword?!
Arya was practically bristling like a wolf. Lady Catelyn waved her hand dismissively, "Get out. And don't ever climb out the window again, my Miss Stark."

"Oh--"

As she left, Arya glared at her fiercely, while Sansa's eyes curved into crescents as she gave her an incredibly kind smile.

The obedient eldest daughter also gave Lady Catelyn a headache. She said seriously, "Sansa, wolves are born in packs."

Sansa was happily staring at the closed door when she heard this, and her smile vanished instantly.

She snapped out of her reverie and nodded gently to her mother: "The lone wolf dies."

Caitlin and her sister have been close since childhood and have spent many wonderful times together.

however.

Sansa and Arya, on the other hand, argued constantly like enemies, even over the smallest things.

Recalling her painful past, Lady Catelyn couldn't help but pray for Sansa and Arya, asking the gods to have mercy on them.

Sensing her mother's sorrow, Sansa's fleeting happiness vanished instantly: "Mom, I'm sorry..."

Mrs. Caitlin suppressed the sudden surge of sadness and gently took her daughter's little hand: "My dear children, I only hope that you can grow up well."

Sansa sniffed: "I promise you, Mom, I won't argue with my sister anymore."

Lady Catelyn wiped away the tears from Sansa's eyes with her thumb, and shook her head kindly: "Perhaps arguing will help you understand each other better. I only hope that you will always remember that you are sisters of the same blood."

Sansa nodded emphatically: "I will remember your teachings."

Mrs. Caitlin gently touched her daughter's cheek, paused, and asked, "By the way, why did you suddenly call me?"

Upon hearing this, Sansa composed herself and said, "Mom, I need your help."

Lady Caitlin raised an eyebrow in slight confusion: "Did something unexpected happen when you were inspecting the barracks with His Majesty?"

Sansa nodded at first, then shook her head: "It's like this..."

After patiently listening to her daughter's story, Lady Catelyn was silent for a moment, then gazed at her daughter: "Sansa, when you were eight or nine years old, you asked your father... why he always brought his men to dine with you. Do you remember how your father taught you back then?"

Sansa certainly remembered it; she was just nine years old at the time, and she was actually complaining that the strangers her father brought were smelly and noisy...

She remembers being so frightened by her kind father's sudden "scolding" that she burst into tears.

……

Sansa's cheeks flushed slightly. "I remember, my father taught me that men don't fight for strangers; they must understand their lord... uh... um..."

She opened her mouth, but couldn't finish her sentence.

"It seems you yourself are aware of the seriousness of the problem."

Lady Catelyn may not have shown it, but she was very pleased. Sansa had not only inherited the Tullys' appearance, but also their wisdom.

She pulled her daughter over and sat down next to her: "Land, food, gold, castles, and family all need guards to protect them. If you can't even adapt to the environment of your camp, how can you shoulder the responsibility of protecting your territory?"

Hearing this, Sansa became nervous, worried that her mother would be disappointed in her.

"Mom, I'm sure I can handle it..."

Lady Caitlin gently interrupted her daughter's flustered words, pulled her into her arms, patted her softly, and said, "I'll help you, my dear Sansa, it's not a big problem." "Mother..."

……

Inside the noisy brothel, Tyrion scratched his cheek as he watched the Hound sit down opposite him. "Hey, Sandor, what brings you here?"

Sandor was a model "knight," and this was the first time they had met on such an occasion, despite having known each other for so long.

The hound leaned back and casually tossed a money pouch onto the table with a thud: "His Majesty is worried you don't have enough money."

Tyrion paused for a moment, then picked up the money bag with a fawning expression: "Long live Your Majesty! I almost ended up staying here to sell my body."

He quickly tied the money pouch to his belt and said with a grin, "Thanks for making the trip."

Then, Tyrion put on a serious expression and called out to the side, "Pod, oh, can't you see Lord Sandor? Be quick and pour him some wine."

“Yes… I’m sorry… I’ll do it right away…” Podrick stammered as he poured wine into the empty glass.

Crash———

Ser Bronn, standing to the other side, poured wine into Tyrion's glass with a lewd expression: "My lord, please allow me to serve you."

Tyrion leaned back warily: "Hey, don't get your hands on my purse, mercenary."

After pouring the wine, Bronn grinned at him: "I never ask for anything in return for my service."

"Oh, you should use your tongue to fool the White Walkers."

Tyrion ignored Bronn, his eyes fixed on the Hound sitting opposite him, and slowly took a sip of his drink.

Then, he suddenly smiled and asked, "Clegane, does His Majesty have any other instructions?"

The Hound downed his drink in one gulp, set down the glass, and said, "I came to see you, Lord Tyrion."

"Oh?" Tyrion shrugged and sat there waiting for him to continue.

Just as the hound was about to speak, he was interrupted by the sound of Podrick's servant getting up to pour wine.

Tyrion complained, “Pod, hey, be smart, we’re talking business.”

"Hug...sorry..."

The Hound waved his hand and said, "Lord Tyrion, we can set off together. I'm going to the Westerlands too."

Tyrion picked up his glass, took a sip, and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, of course I welcome you. Hmm, are you planning to return to Clegane Castle...to get married and have children?"

The Hound ignored Tyrion's teasing: "His Majesty the King ordered me to go to the Westerlands, and I will return."

After waiting a while, and seeing that the Hound didn't reveal anything further, Tyrion, though curious, didn't show it.

He didn't bother to guess; to be honest, he really couldn't figure out Green's "chess-playing" style.

But this news was good for him; he felt his life was now more secure, as Sandor Clegane was a reliable knight.

Tyrion turned his head and said seriously, "Bron, I think your hiring price needs to be renegotiated."

Sir Bronn, looking deeply moved, said, "Generous sir, would you like to add more money?"

After he finished speaking, his gaze fell on the new money pouch at Tyrion's waist.

"Oh, I forgot again, I've already paid! Greedy mercenary, don't even dream about it, I won't pay a single extra penny!"

……

……

The next day, morning.

Green was warming himself by the fireplace with a book in his hands when Ser Brienne entered and announced that the Lady of Winterfell requested an audience.

Green nodded slightly in surprise. He had breakfast with the Stark family in the restaurant, and not much time had passed.

"Your Majesty Green."

Pointing to the wooden chair on the other side of the fireplace, Green smiled and said, "Mrs. Caitlin, please have a seat."

The waiter brought the wine glasses and left, leaving only the two of them in the room.

Lady Caitlin took a small sip of Summer Red and said, “Your Majesty, please forgive my intrusion, but I have heard that you intend to send a group of people to the Westerlands…”

(End of this chapter)