iron throne of ice and fire

Chapter 640 A little effort
This was no secret, Green nodded slightly: "Yes, Tyrion and the others will be setting off in the next few days."

Before Caitlin could respond, he asked again, "Madam, is there something you need?"

Lady Catelyn shrugged, her tone somewhat helpless: "Sansa is extremely upset. She feels she didn't perform well at the camp and disappointed you."

Green smiled gently: "To be honest, Miss Stark is much better than most noble ladies. She just needs some time to grow up, after all, she is only fourteen years old."

Upon hearing this, Mrs. Caitlin couldn't help but smile like a mother: "She likes to push herself too hard, and Ned and I can't do anything about it."

She shrugged again: "All I can do is try my best to help her grow. So..."

Seeing that Lady Catelyn seemed to be considering her next words, Green raised his glass to her: "Kleber and the Starks are like family. If I can help Miss Sansa, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Thanks you……"

Lady Catherine glanced at the sincere-looking king before her, feeling immense gratitude for the gods' mercy in allowing Ned to uphold the honor he considered his life.

Her eyes welled up with tears, which made Lady Catherine feel embarrassed; she had been too disrespectful in front of the King.

Just then, Green's gaze turned to the burning fire: "Sansa, Arya, and Rickon are all good children, and like Duke Ned, I have high hopes for them."

Lady Caitlin couldn't help but smile. This young king knew how to take care of a lady's feelings, unlike those careless ancient nobles.

If she had met such a charming knight during her teenage years, she might have... fallen in love with him, and even done something as crazy as Ryza.

Catelyn Tully lamented her lost girlhood while also regretting that Sansa had a great chance to marry this man, and Ned had even considered it. However, she never dreamed that...

Lady Caitlin quickly composed herself, believing that everything was the best blessing from the gods.

Including the pain she experienced.

……

Lady Catelyn's breasts heaved slightly as she spoke slowly: "Your Majesty, Winterfell has received a message from Duke Brynden. Duke Brynden requests Ned's support of several instructors to assist Riverrun in training its new recruits."

Green nodded slightly: "I know about this."

“My lord, I think this is a good opportunity for Sansa to gain experience.”

Lady Caitlin looked over: "Therefore, I would like to request that you allow Sansa to travel with those people."

Green's brown eyes flickered slightly. He paused for a moment, then said, "It was nothing."

.........

Three days later, on the morning.

On the high platform, Arya Stark glared angrily at Sansa, who had changed into riding breeches, where a group of people were gathered, ready to depart.

Aren't you going to see your sister off?

It was Green's voice. He came to her side and ruffled Arya's fluffy head.

"I don't want to send her off."

Arya pouted, "Lady Catelyn is so biased, only letting Sansa go out to play."

"She's not going there for fun."

Green patted Arya: "Your great-uncle will be returning to Riverrun to gather soldiers in a while. Sansa can help with other administrative matters, so Duke Brynden won't be too overworked."

Arya pouted and said helplessly, "Okay, I really can't help Grandpa with that kind of thing."

Sansa could sit patiently all day to handle government affairs, which was the only thing Arya "envied" about her, but only for a little while.

"Let's go practice our swordsmanship."

Holding Arya's little hand, he walked and asked, "Is your dream still to be a knight and a lord?"

Arya turned her gaze away from Sansa, her voice suddenly becoming excited: "Yes! I want to become the strongest knight in the Seven Kingdoms!"

"A good dream."

Green's lips curved slightly: "I can't wait. Then I can have fun without worry, because there will be powerful knights protecting the seven kingdoms."

"Giggle!"

Arya, who had been laughing and jumping around, suddenly stopped, her young face extremely serious: "Grin, you can't become a drunkard like Robert!"

“Alright, little knight Arya, I’ll do my best.” “Oh dear, you must swear, Grimm, you are the best king!”

……

below.

As soon as Sansa's boots touched the stirrups and she was about to mount the horse, for some reason, the horse suddenly arched its back, and she had to hold on tightly to the saddle to avoid falling off.

Sansa's pupils immediately contracted.

Seeing that the horse was about to move again, a large, iron-like hand grabbed the swaying reins, and the brute force of the other hand suppressed its wildness.

In a daze, all that remained around her was heavy breathing, and Sansa even forgot to cry out in surprise.

“Miss Stark, you should choose a more docile horse.”

Sandor Clegane's rough, hoarse voice came through as he stroked the now docile horse's mane: "It must have eaten too much this morning."

Two panicked maids caught her back, and Sansa, still clinging to the side of the saddle, nodded blankly and said instinctively, "Thank you, sir."

After a pause, the hound extended its hand to him: "Please sit down."

His palms were large and rough. Sansa hesitated for a moment before gently placing her small, soft hand on them, which looked like a patch of white snow sinking into coal.

Using the momentum, she flipped herself over and sat comfortably in the saddle, finally letting out a sigh of relief.

"You saved me, thank you again."

Sansa’s gaze lingered on the Hound only politely for a moment. This kind, tall knight was not only frightening in appearance but also intimidating in strength, and she worried that she might inadvertently reveal an inappropriate expression.

The hound didn't say anything, then silently lifted its foot and left.

Sansa had no time to pay attention to anything else. She felt incredibly embarrassed just now. She pulled up the hood of her cloak, hiding half of her face in the shadows, revealing only a small part of her fair chin.

Ahead.

Seeing that Sansa was unharmed, Tyrion breathed a sigh of relief and couldn't help but joke with Bronn beside him: "Hey, I'm reminded of a song, 'The Bear and the Beauty'."

Ser Bronn grinned. "Lord Tyrion, I've heard the Hounds aren't exactly known for their good temper."

Tyrion paused, scratching his messy hair in frustration. "Oh—I forgot I'm no longer Lord Lannister."

Ser Bronn looked at Tyrion's exaggerated expression, his smile turning lewd: "Actually, you don't need to worry, I am your most loyal bodyguard."

Tyrion scrutinized him. "Perhaps I should thank you, mercenary?"

Ser Bronn's gaze fell on Tyrion's purse for the fifth time today, and his smile gradually widened: "It has always been my great honor to serve you, esteemed sir."

"Oh, damn mercenaries, I will never raise prices!"

……

……

Rodrik Caesar, a retainer of House Stark and a knight-errant of the Duke of Winterfell, rode into the gates of Eastwatch, carrying the banner of the direwolf.

Inside the hall, dozens of Reach lords and knights stood on either side, while Duke Mace Tyrell sat alone and majestically on a high platform.

Ser Rodrik stopped a dozen paces away and called out, “Haven’s Hand Mace Tyrell, I am Ser Rodrik Caesar of Winterfell. I extend my greetings on behalf of Lord Eddard Stark, and may the gods, old and new, bless you.”

Prime Minister Mace stared at him for a moment before replying in a deep voice, "Sir Caesar, please convey my thanks to Duke Eddard Stark for his greetings, and may the gods bless the Seven Kingdoms."

After a pause, Sir Rodrik took out a rolled-up parchment and presented it with both hands: "Your Excellency, I have brought you a letter from the Duke of Stark."

At the Prime Minister's signal, a young attendant went over and took the letter.

Prime Minister Mays glanced at the ice wolf seal on it, then opened Duke Ed's handwritten letter.

then.

While reading the letter, Prime Minister Mace suddenly looked down and narrowed his eyes: "Is the Duke of Stark planning to avoid war and let that traitor Stannis run rampant in the North?"

hum!
As Prime Minister Mays questioned him, the surrounding Reach lords immediately began to murmur amongst themselves.

Ser Roderick, standing in the middle, remained unaffected. He raised his voice and said, "Your Excellency, I must presume to correct your statement. The Duke of Stark is gathering strength for a counterattack, not avoiding war."

(End of this chapter)