It was around three in the afternoon when Jon found Robb.
Because of the morning's wager, Robb had spent nearly the entire day hunting in the Wolfswood.
When he saw Jon, he assumed Galon had sent him to check on his haul. So, without a word, he eagerly pulled Jon along, boasting about the day's successes.
But when he heard that Bran had fallen from the tower and was clinging to life, his face instantly changed.
He no longer cared about anything else, leaping straight onto Jon's horse. The two rode together, galloping frantically back toward the camp.
As they neared the camp, they saw the Baratheon knights returning laden with goods, with the giant bear being dragged into the center of the camp.
Normally, Robb would have joined the excitement.
But now, all he wanted to know was the status of his younger brother's injuries.
"Galon!"
Robb jumped off the horseback, anxiously asking, "Has any new information come from Winterfell?"
"Did my father send word again?"
Galon walked toward him and said somberly, "No. Since Lord Stark left, no one has come again."
Robb grew even more anxious, the worry on his face impossible to hide.
"Come on, let's return to Winterfell!"
But Galon stepped forward and held Robb back, his voice firm.
"Robb, calm down!"
Robb angrily shook off his hand, much like Jon had earlier, and snapped, "How do you expect me to calm down? That's my brother!"
His voice was loud enough to make the surrounding people turn and look.
"What are you looking at!"
Robb glared at them furiously, causing the others to look away, bewildered.
Seeing that Robb still intended to leave, Galon's voice also became cold and sharp. "Robb, before Lord Stark left, he told me to notify you to look after the King and the Prince!"
"If you leave now, what will happen to the King and the Prince?
Are you going to let me, a sworn vassal, explain to the King, or are you going to let Jon go and explain to him?"
"Don't forget, Winter Is Coming!"
Galon's words successfully halted Robb's steps. He clenched his fists, speechless for a long time.
"I know you're worried about Bran. I am equally worried about him!
But if we return worried, can we help Bran escape the danger?"
"Robb, neither you nor I are maesters. We don't have healing skills. We would only be in the way if we went back!"
Galon took two steps forward, meeting Robb's eyes, and said sincerely,
"But staying here, you are indispensable! You are the heir to the Starks. No one else has the right to speak directly with the King except you!"
Robb gradually regained his composure.
He knew Galon was right. If he disregarded the King and left, then as far as Ned was concerned, the North would have lost its honor.
"But... but I'm still afraid. What if Bran dies?"
Galon patted Robb's shoulder reassuringly.
"Brandon is protected by the Old Gods. He won't die so easily. Trust me. Stay here and do what we must do!"
Robb's lips moved, and finally, he nodded heavily, agreeing.
Galon felt a slight sense of relief, thinking he had finally managed Robb.
At that moment, the camp outside grew noisy.
"Come on, it seems the King is back!"
"Robb, it's your turn to step forward!"
Robb went to meet him. Only after Robert planted his spear in the ground did Robb bow to him.
"Oh Robb, where is your father? He said he was seeing Galon back to camp. I haven't seen him return to continue the hunt."
"Is he afraid of losing to me?"
"Hahaha..."
Robert was still joking, but Robb said sorrowfully,
"Your Majesty, someone came from Winterfell this afternoon to tell my father that my brother Brandon fell from a high tower and is clinging to life!"
"My father was worried about my brother's injuries and has already returned to Winterfell, instructing me to remain here with Your Majesty."
The smile on Robert's face instantly froze.
"Seven Hells!"
He was at a loss for words. He looked around, the joy of the hunt completely gone.
"Robb, notify the men to pack up. Let's return to Winterfell first!"
With the King's command, Robb was even more eager to return, constantly urging everyone to pack up.
Soon, the fully laden hunting party hurriedly returned to Winterfell.
Meanwhile, back in Winterfell.
In the guest chamber, Jaime said in a cold voice, "Did someone notify you to go to the broken tower? Who was it!"
Theon looked frightened and shook his head. "I don't know either. After the feast yesterday, someone left a letter in my bedchamber."
"It asked me to meet them at the broken tower!"
He quietly glanced at Jaime and added, "But as soon as I arrived at the tower, I found you and the Queen were also there, which is why I hid."
Jaime ignored Theon's fidgeting.
"You said there was a letter? Where is it?"
Theon said softly, "I burned it."
"What!" Jaime's expression froze. "How could you burn it!"
Theon stammered in reply, "The letter said the matter was of grave importance, so I thought it best to burn it, to prevent anyone else from seeing it."
Jaime stared at Theon wordlessly, seemingly judging the credibility of his words.
After a long time, he withdrew his gaze and paced back and forth in the room, thinking silently.
'Did someone deliberately arrange for him to go there to stumble upon Cersei and me?'
'No—it couldn't be!'
'Cersei and I only decided to go up there spontaneously. How could anyone else have known!'
'Was it a coincidence?'
Jaime felt a strange discomfort rising in his heart. He had a feeling there was something suspicious behind this matter.
But if he had to articulate it, he couldn't find any evidence.
Jaime pondered for a long time and could only conclude that Theon's appearance, like Bran's, was purely coincidental.
He turned and walked up to Theon, instructing him, "Now that the Stark boy is still being treated, your foster father will soon return."
"When he does, he will surely send people to investigate Brandon's fall.
What we need to do is make sure everyone believes we were not present!"
Theon nodded.
Jaime glanced at the bite mark on Theon's wrist, which was hidden by his sleeve.
He walked over to a nearby table and picked up a dagger with a lion-headed hilt and a white cloth.
"Bite down on this white cloth!"
"I need to turn the bite mark on your wrist into a knife wound!"
Theon instinctively stepped back, shocked. "Ser Jaime, is that really necessary?"
"Idiot!" Jaime suddenly snapped coldly. "If someone finds the bite mark on your wrist, how will you explain it?"
"Are you going to claim a whore bit you?"
"Now, come here!"
Jaime's formidable presence was fully unleashed.
Theon, for a moment, dared not disobey his command and could only meekly extend the wrist that Brandon had bitten.
Jaime handed the white cloth to Theon.
Theon took it and slowly began to put it in his mouth.
Jaime grew impatient seeing his hesitation and barked, "Hurry up! Put the strength you use on women into this!"
Theon's face twitched.
Finally, he resigned himself, stuffed the cloth into his mouth, and closed his eyes.
Jaime grabbed Theon's wrist, violently stabbed the dagger into the bite mark, and roughly scraped it back and forth.
Theon felt a sharp pain and instinctively tried to open his mouth and struggle.
But Jaime's warning voice reached his ears.
"If you don't want to be discovered, you will bear it!"
Theon bit down hard on the cloth, enduring the agony. In a mere half-minute, he felt as though he had undergone hours of torture.
"Done!"
Jaime released his wrist.
The wrist was a bloody mess, making it impossible for anyone to tell that Theon had previously been bitten.
"Go back and get some medicine to bandage it yourself.
Remember, no matter who asks, you say you accidentally cut yourself with a dagger!"
Theon nodded, his face pale.
He used the cloth in his mouth to press against the wound, then turned and left the guest chamber.
Just then, Galon and his party had just returned to Winterfell.
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