Winter's size had long exceeded everyone's understanding, flying like a gale sweeping across the snowy plains, or like a modern large passenger plane, covering the sky and sun.
Lynn pondered.
If it weren't for the dragon's lair restricting Winter's growth, perhaps it could have grown another meter.
Ned Stark sat on Winter's broad back.
The cold wind rushed into his mouth and nose, but it brought him a long-lost sense of relief.
King's Landing, that city full of schemes and stench, was finally left far behind.
He looked back.
Lynn and Myrcella sat close behind him, and further back was Jaime.
The former Kingsguard wore a complex expression, a mix of novelty and wariness.
However, Jaime, who feared nothing, only felt a strange dizziness and constantly wanted to vomit.
In less than two days, they had covered a distance that would take ordinary people over half a month to travel.
When the gray outline of Winterfell appeared on the horizon, Ned's eyes became moist.
He was home.
The city gates had already opened.
Robb Stark, dressed in heavy furs, paced anxiously back and forth at the entrance.
He was still waiting for news of Theon's capture.
When he saw the ungrateful Winter carrying his father back, the anxiety on his face was instantly replaced by immense joy.
"Father!"
"Why are you back?"
Winter landed, and Ned dismounted, landing steadily on the snow.
He looked at his eldest son, who had grown taller than him, and at his face, which was seven or eight parts similar to his own but younger and more resolute, and his heart was filled with mixed emotions.
He had been away too long; this little wolf had matured.
Robb quickly stepped forward, about to give his father a hug.
But the moment his eyes met Ned's, his movements suddenly stiffened.
Ned's gaze was very calm.
But beneath that calm, it seemed to harbor a brewing blizzard.
"I heard," Ned's voice was low.
"You locked up your mother?"
A fine layer of cold sweat instantly broke out on Robb's forehead.
He instinctively took half a step back, feeling as if he was facing not his father, but the awe-inspiring statue of the former king outside Winterfell.
"I... Father, I was..."
Robb's tongue tied.
"Mother insisted on going to Riverrun; that letter was too strange, I was afraid..."
"So you locked her in her room?"
Ned's tone showed no change, but the pressure grew stronger and stronger.
Robb's heart sank to the bottom.
He knew what he did was right.
But facing his father's questioning, he still felt a pang of guilt.
It's over; this beating is unavoidable today.
Just as Robb was bracing himself for his father's wrath, Ned suddenly reached out and clapped him heavily on the shoulder.
The force was so great that Robb's body swayed.
"Well done."
"Ah?"
Robb suddenly looked up, his face filled with bewilderment.
Ned's face finally showed a hint of a smile.
But that smile held a strange, somewhat schadenfreude-like quality.
"You are already a qualified lord, capable of making difficult decisions."
"However..."
Ned leaned into his ear, lowering his voice.
"You'd best figure out how to deal with your mother's wrath yourself."
"Don't count on me; right now, I just want a good hot bath."
With that, Ned strode into the castle, leaving a bewildered Robb disheveled in the wind.
Ned had endured Catelyn's nagging for too long, and seeing Catelyn suffer at Robb's hands, he was in a good mood for a moment, but he couldn't show it... Lynn walked over, also clapped Robb's shoulder, and laughed.
"You'll get used to it; your father was suffocated in King's Landing."
Jaime followed behind, watching the interaction between father and son, his mouth twitching involuntarily.
The way Northerners express paternal love is truly... er, unique.
As for Winter, it looked at Robb, who wanted to join the fun, with disdain, not even giving Robb a proper dragon face.
Robb only felt himself "betrayed by all, deserted by his kin."
Lynn watched this scene, feeling very relieved.
In the original story, the tragedy of House Stark would not be repeated; this time, they would have a completely different and perfect ending, which also resolved his past regrets... The great hall of Winterfell's main keep.
The firewood in the fireplace burned brightly.
Catelyn Tully paced back and forth in the room, like a she-wolf trapped in a cage.
When the door was pushed open and Ned's familiar figure appeared in the doorway, all her anxiety and anger at that moment turned into a flood of tears.
"Ned!"
She threw herself into her husband's arms like a young swallow returning to its nest, weeping loudly.
Ned held his wife tightly, feeling her body tremble, his heart filled with guilt.
"I'm back, Cate, I'm back."
After crying for a long time, Catelyn slowly calmed down.
She wiped away her tears, but then immediately remembered the humiliation of being imprisoned. She pushed Ned away and glared at Robb, who had followed them in.
"You unfilial son! How dare you lock me up!"
Robb shrunk his neck, looking at his father for help.
Ned, however, walked to the fireplace to warm himself, pretending not to see anything.
Are you kidding? He wouldn't get involved now; whoever did would be unlucky.
Playing dumb was the wisest choice.
"Mother, I..."
"Alright, Lady, don't blame Robb too much."
Lynn's voice sounded at the right moment.
"Robb did it for your own good."
"Riverrun is a den of dragons and tigers right now; going there would truly be a one-way trip."
Robb cast a grateful look.
This is what a good brother is!
Catelyn's attention was immediately diverted.
She then noticed Lynn and Myrcella, and even Jaime Lannister, had come.
She looked at Lynn and asked eagerly.
"Lynn, what exactly happened in Riverrun? My father..."
"No, we'll talk about that later."
Catelyn suddenly looked around, her brows tightly furrowed.
"Where's Sansa? Why didn't my Sansa come back with you?"
At the mention of that name, the atmosphere in the hall instantly became somewhat strange.
Ned's action of warming himself by the fire stopped, and his face showed an expression uglier than crying.
"She... she refused to leave."
"Refused to leave?"
Catelyn's voice suddenly rose.
"What do you mean, refused to leave?"
"Did that little beast Joffrey hold her back?"
"No, this has nothing to do with Joffrey."
Ned sighed, looking at Lynn with a complicated expression.
"It was her... she insisted on staying in King's Landing."
Catelyn was stunned.
Her daughter.
Sansa, who treated knight novels as scripture and dreamed of marrying a prince.
Would she actually voluntarily give up the chance to return to Winterfell and choose to stay in the place where her dreams had already been shattered?
"Why?"
Catelyn couldn't believe her ears.
"What is she doing there?"
Ned's expression became even more unreadable.
He hesitated for a long time before speaking with difficulty.
"She said... she wants to make money."
"Make... make money?"
Catelyn felt her brain wasn't quite keeping up.
The eldest daughter of House Stark, staying in King's Landing to make money?
What kind of Arabian Nights tale was this?
"Yes, make money."
Ned said with a look of utter despair.
"She said Lynn has so many people beyond the Wall to feed, and a dragon to raise, so the expenses must be huge."
"As Lynn's un... friend, she couldn't just stand by."
"She even used the jewelry and ornaments you gave her as capital to take over a shop on Silk Street, the most prosperous street in King's Landing, specifically to design clothes and jewelry for noblewomen."
"She calls it haute couture, and there's that slippery soap too; I don't understand it."
"Apparently... business is quite good, and she's made a lot of gold dragons."
Catelyn stood rooted to the spot, mouth agape, unable to utter a single word.
She looked at Lynn, then at Ned, feeling as if she were listening to an absurd story made up by a bard.
It wasn't that she was astonished by Sansa earning gold dragons.
Arya, following Lynn, playing with swords and spears, dreaming of being a knight all day, was already giving her enough headaches.
Now, great.
Sansa, her most ladylike and most worry-free daughter, also... also stayed in King's Landing, that den of wolves, for Lynn?
Seven Gods above.
She felt as if her two daughters, like two fresh, plump cabbages, had both been'snatched' by Lynn!
And Lynn even led her son astray right in front of her!
Her Robb had never dared to be so disrespectful to her before.
Catelyn's gaze fell on Lynn.
Her eyes were filled with the resentment and helplessness of an old mother.
Lynn felt uncomfortable under her gaze, only able to give two dry laughs.
"Well... Lady Catelyn, children grow up and always have their own ideas..."
"Ideas? I think they're under your spell!"
Catelyn said irritably.
However, complaints aside, she also knew now was not the time to dwell on these things.
She took a deep breath, temporarily pushed her daughters' matters to the back of her mind, and her expression became serious again.
"Alright, now to serious matters."
"What exactly happened with my father's death and Edmure's marriage?"
"Robb said that letter was strange in every way!"
"There was even a hidden layer inside the envelope; Robb suspects even the contents of the hidden layer aren't trustworthy!"
At the mention of this, Ned's face also darkened; he had also heard about the events in Riverrun.
He looked at Lynn, signaling for Lynn to speak.
After all, Lynn could always "see" some "prophecies" that others couldn't.
Lynn nodded and told Catelyn the entire story, from Lysa Arryn poisoning Jon Arryn, to her inciting the Vale vassals, and then to her secretly colluding with Walder Frey, attempting to annex the The Riverlands and the Vale in one fell swoop through marriage and conspiracy.
When Catelyn heard that her father, Lord Hoster, might not have died of illness, but was instead driven to death by her already mad sister.
And even... that Lysa herself killed him, Catelyn's body swayed, her vision went black, and she almost collapsed to the ground.
"No... impossible..."
Her lips lost all color.
"Lysa... how could she have become like this... that's our father!"
"For a Petyr Baelish... she actually..."
Grief, anger, disbelief... all these emotions intertwined, almost tearing her apart.
However much she had loved her sister, that's how much she hated her now.
"Edmure..."
Catelyn clutched at the last straw, asking with a trembling voice.
"What happened to my brother Edmure?"
"Is he... is he alright?"
Lynn was silent for a moment, and finally spoke the cruel truth.
"Edmure, I'm afraid, has already become a puppet of your sister and Walder Frey."
"That wedding is a trap prepared for him, and for the entire House Tully."
"They will force Edmure, as the lord of riverrun, to acknowledge the alliance with the Vale, to acknowledge the marriage alliance with House Frey, and to bind the entire army of the The Riverlands to their war chariot."
"If Edmure doesn't comply..."
A cold glint flashed in Lynn's eyes.
"That wedding will become his funeral, and it will become the funeral of the entire House Tully."
"Moreover, that wedding isn't just targeting Edmure; it's also targeting you, Lady."
"As soon as you attend and step into the The Riverlands, the cavalry already lying in ambush will apprehend you."
"You will become Lord Ned's greatest impediment."
"So, Robb's decision not to let you go was absolutely correct."
Catelyn completely broke down.
She collapsed into a chair, covering her face with her hands, letting out desperate and suppressed sobs.
Her home.
Riverrun, which once represented "Family, Duty, Honor."
Now it was crumbling, completely shrouded in conspiracy and betrayal.
Robb stepped forward and placed his hand on his mother's trembling shoulder.
His young face was filled with a resolve and anger unsuited for his age.
"Mother, we will avenge grandfather."
"I will also rescue Uncle."
His gaze turned to Lynn, and in those gray eyes belonging to House Stark, a fierce fighting spirit burned.
"Lynn, what should we do now?"
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