Meanwhile, in Winterfell, Jon Snow bid farewell to Robb with a confident smile. "Farewell, Robb. When I return, my swordsmanship shall surpass yours by countless degrees."
Lord Eddard Stark had journeyed north to the Wall, accompanied by his brother Benjen and the Imp, Tyrion Lannister. The Night's Watch faced dire challenges: insufficient manpower, aging structures, and whispered threats of White Walkers. Though most dismissed the Walkers as mere folly, Eddard Stark was ever a man of caution.
"You might as well melt down that sword and learn some needlework from the girls," Jon teased, her eyes glinting.
Snowflakes melted amidst Robb's red hair as he shot a disgruntled glance at his sister. "What nonsense are you spouting? This sword was crafted especially for me by Renly." He then reluctantly continued, a complex expression on his face. "Furthermore... he also gifted you a sword."
"Has his mind truly gone awry?"
This was Jon Snow's immediate, bewildered reaction. Throughout her life, no one had ever bestowed upon her such a precious gift, not even her uncle.
Robb gazed at her, his expression exceedingly complex as he awkwardly stroked his newly sprouted stubble. "I am not deceiving you. He even left you some jewels. Surely they cannot belong to the queen."
Jon felt a sense of foreboding. However, she soon found herself chuckling at her own thoughts. The gold of Casterly Rock was boundless, and Renly was undoubtedly not a man lacking in wealth.
Robb led Jon into the great hall, where at that moment only Rickon was present. Pale-gray and white-clad attendants approached in succession, bearing gift boxes.
"I am not heading to the Wall," Jon remarked, yet her excitement was palpable as she eagerly accepted the sword from the master-at-arms. Her eyes widened with wonder. "It's perfect."
The sword was relatively lightweight, perfectly suited for Jon's build. Observing his sister's uncharacteristic delight, Robb could not help but smile in bemusement. The jewels were the focal point of the gift's political message, yet Jon seemed to have overlooked their significance entirely.
Hadn't Renly been betrothed to Margaery of Highgarden? Robb thought. Even the most extravagant gestures must consider public opinion. He quickly retracted the thought. This was a kindness, plain and simple.
The trembling maid servants presented the jewels, which, while not overly ornamental, were practical for self-defense and barter—indispensable for a journey to distant lands.
Jon gratefully accepted them, exclaiming, "It's as if I've been given a second father. Upon my return, I shall bring back a host of swordsmen from foreign lands, ensuring Renly will never regret this act in his lifetime."
Robb displayed a smile filled with resignation. Perhaps I was overthinking it.
"Well, then I shall take my leave, Robb." Jon efficiently gathered her belongings, waving goodbye with a bright smile until her silhouette completely vanished from view.
Robb gently stroked the fluffy head of his direwolf, realizing how desolate Winterfell had become.
It was only after Jon's departure that Catelyn Stark, her eyes red-rimmed, entered through the main door. She had not bothered to adorn herself today.
"My Robb," she said, her voice heavy. "In the blink of an eye, Winterfell is left with only you and Rickon." She struggled to conceal her grief. "A letter from your father arrived from the Wall. He insists that all northern lords be told to inventory their dragonglass and Valyrian steel, while also gathering all information regarding the White Walkers."
As she spoke, the melancholy in her blue eyes deepened. "Petyr... attempted to flee from the Wall and was fortuitously encountered by Yoren and men from Mole's Town. To prevent any unforeseen circumstances, your father executed him that very night."
Robb understood that Petyr had once challenged Brandon Stark for their mother's hand, so he could somewhat empathize with her sorrow. However, to be candid, his understanding was limited. The man had been spurned by her so long ago. How could he still harbor the same obsessive devotion?
"Life is unpredictable, Mother. There is no need to mourn for him."
Lady Catelyn managed a faint smile. "Indeed, this has taught me a lesson. Never forget to be wary of suspicion and betrayal." She sighed, the weight of recent events pressing on her. "Lysa was manipulated by Petyr, as Jon had cautioned me. Petyr Baelish would stop at nothing for power and gain. He was a true player of the game."
Robb recalled how Renly had gathered the children of Winterfell before he left, earnestly warning them that the south was a nest of intrigue and treachery far exceeding their northern expectations. Naive Sansa had once believed it was all songs and poetry. But after Renly recounted one harsh reality after another, everyone had come to grasp the world's cruelty.
"In any case, you must remain vigilant," Catelyn said. "To others, Winterfell is merely a treasure trove."
"Very well, Mother. You should rest. I shall handle the matters of contacting the other lords with Maester Luwin."
Catelyn seemed to realize her indiscretion only then. She sighed, "Robb, you are becoming more like your father." For a fleeting moment, she appeared to desire to embrace her child, but suddenly aware of his adulthood, she could only hug Rickon and softly guide him away.
Robb and Maester Luwin carefully deliberated each word as the ravens flew from Winterfell to distant lands. When everything was finally done, Robb languidly slumped on a bench, realizing just how arduous the responsibilities of a lord truly were.
Fortunately, the provisions sent from Highgarden by Renly's command were already en route. This year, the late summer in the north would not be as unbearable as it had been in the past. Though Robb understood this was a means to curry favor, he thought that if all kings resorted to such benevolent tactics, he would willingly submit.
"Robb." Maester Luwin's voice broke through his reverie. "Lord Robert Arryn's condition has improved significantly."
Robb furrowed his brow, momentarily failing to grasp the significance.
"A sudden improvement," Luwin clarified, guiding Robb out of the hall as he elaborated. "Lord Robert had been nurtured by Lady Lysa, his health frail and his fits worsening over time. However, upon arriving in Winterfell, Jon discovered that one of his attendants was acting suspiciously."
"Poison." Robb was no stranger to the term. Lysa had poisoned Lord Jon Arryn. Such similar tactics must surely originate from the same source.
Maester Luwin regarded Robb with admiration. "Indeed, my lord, you are quite astute." He gently knocked on the door to Robert's chamber. "Lord Arryn, Robb has come to play with you."
The maester's tone was so gentle it almost transported Robb back to his own childhood. Before long, the door swung open, revealing Robert's small head, adorned with a shock of golden hair. Although his frame remained slight, the improvement in his demeanor since his arrival in Winterfell was remarkable.