Beside the brazier in the King's Camp, Robb Stark's chin was covered with a fiery red beard. His fingers, which had been stroking his sandy-gold hairband, paused as he reached out to take the wax-sealed letter.
His deep blue eyes flashed sharply as he read the letter. King Robb put the letter away and stood up, walking to the long table to look down at the map of the Riverlands spread upon it.
Laughter from outside drifted into the quiet tent. The North Cavalry, led by King Robb, had swept through the western Riverlands and the northern Crownlands, suffering no defeats and very few casualties.
Most importantly, they had plundered a large amount of treasure from the Crownlands, so their morale was extremely high.
They sang a song composed by a wandering singer specifically for King Robb's Battle of Harrenhal — The Direwolf of the Night.
Robb looked up from the map and said, "Ser Reynald, convey my orders. We break camp tomorrow morning and head to Seaguard."
"Yes, King."
Renard Westerling moved a few steps towards the tent's entrance but then suddenly stopped. After a pause, he returned to Robb's side.
"King, my mother... she requests an audience with you."
Robb's gaze shifted slightly. "Where is Lady Sybelle now?"
Ser Reynald opened his mouth and said, "She secretly left Riverrun and has been following us from a distance. I've sent people to persuade her many times... but she's very insistent this time..."
He clasped his chest. "I apologize, King. Please believe me, my mother did not intentionally defy your orders. She is very worried about you."
Perhaps thinking of his beloved, Robb closed his eyes in pain and said, "Lady Sybelle's grief will be no less than mine. I should be grateful to her."
After a pause, he handed over the letter.
Ser Reynald read the letter, forced a smile, and said, "King, it's a good thing that Duke Brynden can negotiate so smoothly with Lord Frey."
"It is indeed a good thing."
Robb looked at Renard, then reached out and patted his deceased wife's brother on the arm. "I am King. There are some choices I must make. Also..."
He showed Renard the sandy-gold hairband on his palm. "Jeyne has never left me. You will always be my family."
Ser Reynald turned his face away, took a deep breath, and said, "Yes, King."
Less than half an hour later, the tall Greatjon pushed aside the tent flap and strode in, his voice like a booming bell. "King Robb, are we not going to continue fighting those damn Lannister?"
Following behind him, the heir to Bear Island, Daisy Mormont, though six feet (182cm) tall, appeared somewhat petite next to Greatjon.
The Bear Island warrior woman scolded, "Jon Umber, you fool! You should learn to shut up! The invincible King has his own plans!"
"Damn Bear woman, I'm not stupid!"
"Admit it, you foolish barbarian!"
King Robb raised his hand to quiet them, ending their argument.
His gaze swept over the two. "Greatjon, Daisy, there's too much treasure in the baggage train. Someone reported that some soldiers are secretly throwing away food and fodder to carry more gold."
Hearing this, Greatjon chuckled. "King Robb, everyone hasn't seen so many good things before."
Daisy Mormont secretly rolled her eyes at Greatjon.
"We'll rest briefly at Seaguard. Then I'll arrange ships and men to send those spoils to the North."
"Oh... oh? Haha, that's great! My uncles will soon be able to marry again! Long live the King!"
Daisy Mormont said coldly, "Instead of women, I suggest they use that treasure to stock up on more food. Haven't you noticed the weather is getting colder?"
Greatjon paid no attention to Mormont's reminder. "Worst case, we'll winter in King's Landing, King Robb. When you're tired of her, give Dowager Queen Lannister to me to warm my bed. I'll surely..."
Robb interrupted Greatjon's words. "Winter is coming."
He looked sharply at Greatjon and Daisy, then continued, "After we resupply our weapons, armor, and provisions, we will go to The Twins. I will marry a Frey lady."
After a moment of silence, Greatjon roared, "Damn it, are those weasels still dreaming their motherf***ing dreams?!"
Ignoring Greatjon, Robb turned to the still-stunned Bear Island warrior woman. "Lady Daisy, would you kindly shave my beard for me?"
"..., Yes, King."
After chasing away the constantly clamoring Greatjon, Daisy sharpened the dagger in her hand and came to the seated King.
She hesitated, then asked, "King Robb, have you made up your decision?"
Robb looked up at the tall Daisy. After a pause, he nodded.
"I will stand by your side in every battle."
Closing his eyes, Robb nodded again.
Shave~ shave~ shave~ shave~ Daisy held King Robb's chin, skillfully shaving his beard... "I am King!"
Ser Adam glanced coldly at the distorted face of Joffrey and said, "Your Majesty, I will return after dinner."
"Get out! All of you, get out!"
With a bang, the door was closed, and Joffrey was still panting, glaring in that direction.
After that evening's feast, Joffrey, at his mother's persuasion, had breakfast the next day with his grandfather and Lord Mace, expressing his humility.
After bidding farewell to Lord Mace in a pleasant atmosphere, he realized he had lost his freedom as King.
Not only could he not leave the Red Keep, but besides the Kingsguard, he was now surrounded by unfamiliar Red Cloaks who brazenly monitored his every move.
Joffrey was, of course, very angry, but each time he was given a large cup of sleeping wine.
If he resisted, those people would force it down him.
Joffrey pinched his still-aching cheek, his eyes filled with venom.
Click, stringing and loading an arrow.
Picking up the crossbow, Joffrey aimed at the lion banner hanging on the wall. After a pause, he switched to another target and pulled the trigger.
Whoosh!
The crossbow bolt passed through the decorative ring of the candelabra, and with a 'ding', the arrowhead hit the marble wall and fell down.
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