Lundenhold
POV of Barbrey Dustin
Barbrey sat atop her horse, looked at the Great Moat surrounding the city now known as Lundenhold, and smiled.
The 20-foot-deep and 30-foot-wide moat was not there the last time she left the city in her 4-month exile and went to the Regalis, nor was the 30-foot-tall Steel Gate that was now being lowered to allow her entry into the city that she had seen being built with her own eyes.
Inside the Portcullis was another gate to stop the advance of any soldier trying to invade the city. And the area was filled with murder holes to kill any forces that were trapped in that area.
With all the changes that her nephew had made to the city's defenses, the city almost seemed unbreakable to her inexperienced military mind, even though a more rational part of her mind, whose voice strangely sounded like that of her own nephew, told her that any castle defense can be broken.
It was just a matter of finding that chink in the armor and then using the right strategy at the right time. And the castle will fall.
She cast aside such morbid thoughts from her mind as the Portcullis lowered, and she saw the face of her beloved nephew after all these months.
To say that she had been upset with him when he had exiled her to the Regalis would be an understatement, even if she suggested it. At that time, she secretly wished Domeric had rejected her offer and not punished her while he punished that Tully bitch.
But the truth was that her life in Regalis had been as luxurious as in Dreadfort.
As time passed and her anger simmered down, she realized that it was not a wrong decision even if her nephew had not rejected her offer then.
After all, he had thrown that Tully bitch out of his castle. So, he had to be fair and do the same to her if he didn't want to destroy his relations with the Starks.
Also, as much as she would not admit it, looking back now, she almost felt ashamed of her actions at needling the poor girl who was supposed to be her nephew's promised betrothed. That was indeed low of her, no matter how much she hated Starks.
Plus, even if her nephew had been in the wrong, she loved him too much and doubted that she would manage to remain upset with him for so long.
And Domeric hadn't just sent her to Regalis as an exile. He secretly gave her a mission and entrusted her with Sansa's education.
To put it bluntly, shaping and training a Stark with her own hands gave her a pleasure she had never felt before. Even though the training she gave her in four months covered the basics, the change and development in Sansa could not be ignored.
Her time with Sansa had made her realize something significant about the girl. Sansa was not a stupid or naive girl at heart. Her mind was sharp, and she quickly absorbed and applied what she had learned. Her current naive state was entirely due to her improper upbringing. If she had been trained correctly, she could have easily helped Domeric in the future in the management of his lands.
She guessed that was her duty now. Sansa was already on her way to Winterfell. But next year, she would come to Dreadfort for another six months, and then she could resume training Sansa. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she had grown to like Sansa after spending time with her.
As much as she loved Domeric, her beloved nephew was ahead of her in many ways, and there was little she could teach him. Therefore, Domeric acted independently in many things.
But Sansa was not like that. When she was with Sansa, she could feel that she was really teaching her and guiding her.
The Portcullis' falling to the ground brought her out of her thoughts, and she looked ahead to find her nephew, along with all the small council, waiting for her arrival behind the Portcullis.
But she saw none of them as she had eyes only for her nephew, the boy she considered her son.
She could see him smile in the distance as he rode his horse and came forward to greet her with a huge, silly smile.
She could see a slight stubble forming on his chin. Bolton men were not known for their beards or mustaches, so she doubted the stubble would grow well. She would have to tell his servants to start shaving him each morning.
His form had also grown a little, and she could actually see some muscles in his arms and shoulders.
It seems like he did listen to her and improved his swordplay. If her nephew's body was developed enough, she doubted that any swordsman in Westeros could challenge him.
Domeric was an absolute genius in swordsmanship, spearmanship, archery, and other weapons and fighting techniques.
"Auntie." Her nephew smiled as both of them climbed down from their horses. Then he pulled her in a hug, and then, much to her surprise, he lifted her off the ground with the ease of lifting a thin wooden stick and swung her around in a circle.
Huh… he had indeed grown strong in her absence, hadn't he?
The thought of missing the opportunity to see him grow into a man saddened her, and she promised herself not to give him another chance to exile her as she had before.
She laughed along with him briefly before she hit him in the arm and gave him a stern glare.
"Put me down, Dom. You might not care about noble conduct, but I have an image to maintain." Though the words were spoken sternly, the smile in her eyes belied any anger she might be showing.
He gave her a warm smile and put her down on the ground while sheepishly rubbing the back of his head.
"Welcome home, Auntie." He said, and she smiled. "It's good to be back home," she replied.
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Next Chapters' Name:
Ch.139: Lady Barbrey Learns about White Walkers
Ch.140: Secret Expedition