Chapter 23 CHAPTER 23
Inside Winterfell's Great Hall, the great hearth fires blazed brightly, driving away the chill of the northern night.
The smell of roasted meat, warm bread, wine, and burning wood mixed together beneath the vaulted stone ceiling, while drunken laughter and the clinking of cups continuously echoed throughout the hall.
At the center of the feast, a silver-haired singer gently plucked the strings of his harp while singing an ancient ballad of the First Men.
"Oh, First Men, masters of stone and song…"
"Your footsteps carved upon the ancient earth…"
"The nameless gods gaze through the weirwoods…"
"While your legends drift forever upon the cold northern wind…"
The old song carried a primitive and distant rhythm that seemed capable of drawing listeners back into the ancient age when the First Men first crossed into Westeros and conquered the North.
Many of the Northern lords listened with intoxicated expressions.
But Garon's attention was not fully upon the music.
While casually sipping wine from his cup, his eyes constantly shifted toward Lady Catelyn and Theon Greyjoy.
Clearly, his mind remained vigilant.
At that moment, Ser Rodrik Cassel, seated beside him, raised his wine cup with a smile.
"Lord Garon, why so restrained?"
"Tonight is a rare feast in Winterfell."
Garon snapped back to attention and lightly clinked cups with him before smiling apologetically.
"You must forgive me, Ser Rodrik."
"I'm still not truly of an age to drink heavily."
Ser Rodrik blinked in surprise before suddenly remembering that Garon was only around Robb's age.
The old knight immediately shook his head and laughed bitterly.
"To tell the truth, sparring with you these past few days made me completely forget your age."
"Compared to you, I almost feel my entire life has been wasted."
Garon laughed modestly.
"You overpraise me, Ser."
"I only rely on the advantages of youth."
"If you were younger by several years, I might not be your match at all."
Ser Rodrik immediately burst into hearty laughter.
He drained his wine cup in one gulp while Garon merely took a small sip.
At that moment, Garon noticed that Robert Baratheon had finally grown restless upon the high seat.
The King strode directly down from the dais and plunged into the gathered nobles like a massive black bear entering a flock of sheep.
Every time Robert drank a lord beneath the table, he would throw back his head and roar with laughter before demanding servants refill his cup.
Occasionally, he even openly teased the serving girls nearby without the slightest restraint.
It was as though Queen Cersei did not exist at all.
Seeing Robert behave so recklessly, Ned Stark could only rise helplessly and follow after him, attempting to restrain the increasingly drunken king.
Unfortunately, Robert was already in high spirits.
Not only did he ignore Cersei's darkening expression, he even dragged Ned into the chaos.
"Ned!"
"Come drink with me tonight until we both collapse!"
Unable to refuse publicly, Ned could only accompany him with several cups.
Once the Warden of the North joined in, the other Northern lords naturally followed as well.
Soon the atmosphere within the Great Hall became even livelier.
Nobles continuously moved about exchanging drinks while laughter and shouting echoed everywhere.
Meanwhile, Benjen Stark rose from his seat and walked toward Jon Snow at the far end of the hall, intending to speak privately with him.
Tyrion Lannister, on the other hand, found the wine before him entirely uninteresting after the "exercise" he had enjoyed that afternoon.
With an expression full of contentment, he slowly slipped out of the hall on his short legs.
Robb Stark chatted happily with Joffrey and Tommen nearby, enthusiastically discussing tomorrow's royal hunt.
As for Catelyn Stark…
From the high seat, she observed the increasingly chaotic banquet and realized that neither Ned nor Robert would return to the dais anytime soon.
A thought immediately arose within her mind.
Without attracting attention, she quietly gave a subtle signal to one of her handmaidens.
The servant instantly understood.
She quickly approached Sansa, who was speaking with Princess Myrcella, and whispered softly into her ear.
"Lady Sansa, Lady Catelyn wishes to see you."
Sansa looked slightly surprised but still obediently rose and walked toward the high table.
The moment Garon noticed this scene, his spirits immediately sharpened.
"So…"
"She's finally making her move."
His eyes darkened slightly.
At the same time, he subtly glanced toward Theon Greyjoy before focusing all his attention on Catelyn.
Unexpectedly, however, Sansa merely exchanged several quiet words with Queen Cersei before turning and returning to her seat.
This outcome genuinely surprised Garon.
At that very moment, Robert Baratheon suddenly slammed down the wine cup in his hand.
The loud crash instantly silenced much of the hall.
The King's drunken eyes happened to fall upon Sansa descending from the dais.
Immediately, he remembered the matter Benjen Stark had interrupted earlier in the crypts.
"Seven hells!"
"How could I forget something so important!"
Robert loudly cursed before rising heavily to his feet.
The entire Great Hall gradually quieted.
Ned frowned slightly.
"Your Grace?"
Robert's flushed face split into a broad grin.
"The wine in Winterfell is too strong."
"It nearly made me forget important business."
"Ned!"
"There's something I intended to discuss with you in the crypts earlier, but Benjen interrupted us before I could finish."
Then Robert suddenly pointed toward Ned Stark before loudly declaring to the entire hall:
"You have a daughter!"
"And I have a son!"
"Why don't we unite our houses through marriage?"
The booming voice of the King echoed throughout Winterfell's Great Hall.
Instantly, expressions throughout the hall changed dramatically.
Ned Stark froze.
He naturally understood that Robert could only mean Sansa, as Arya was still far too young for betrothal.
Before Ned could respond, several Baratheon lords immediately began shouting excitedly.
"A royal marriage!"
"A marriage alliance!"
"Long live House Stark!"
The cheers rapidly spread throughout the hall.
Sansa instantly panicked.
Especially after noticing Joffrey's gaze fixed upon her.
For a moment, she did not know what to do.
Instinctively, she tried searching for Garon among the crowd.
Unfortunately, too many nobles had risen to their feet, completely blocking her view.
Unable to find him, Sansa could only lower her head nervously while twisting the edge of her dress between her fingers.
Meanwhile, atop the dais, Catelyn Stark nearly rejoiced inwardly.
She had originally planned to guide Robert toward proposing the marriage herself.
Yet she had never expected the drunken king to speak first.
"The Seven truly favor me."
"If Robert himself proposes the marriage, then Ned cannot blame me."
"And before so many nobles…"
"How could Ned possibly embarrass the King by refusing?"
Catelyn secretly celebrated inwardly.
At the same time, she could not resist glancing toward Garon, wanting to see his anxious and helpless reaction under such pressure.
Yet when she looked over…
She discovered Garon calmly finishing the wine in his cup as though nothing had happened at all.
There was not the slightest trace of panic upon his face.
Catelyn instantly sneered inwardly.
"Hmph."
"I'd like to see how long you can continue pretending."
As the cheers throughout the hall gradually subsided, Ned immediately seized the opportunity to lean close to Robert.
"Your Grace…"
"Sansa is already betrothed."
Robert blinked drunkenly.
"Already betrothed?"
"To whom?"
The Great Hall instantly fell silent once more.
Countless gazes converged upon Ned Stark, causing him to feel tremendous pressure.
Ned immediately realized that if this matter was mishandled, not only the King's dignity but also the honor of Winterfell itself would suffer.
After taking a deep breath, Ned prepared to explain Garon's identity to Robert.
Yet before he could speak—
Catelyn suddenly glanced meaningfully toward Theon Greyjoy.
Theon instantly understood her signal.
He rose abruptly to his feet and loudly declared before everyone:
"Your Grace, Sansa is not truly betrothed yet!"
"Lord Ned merely considered the possibility."
"There has never been any formal engagement between House Stark and House Glover!"
Ned's expression instantly darkened.
"Theon!"
"Silence!"
Unfortunately, it was already too late.
The hall immediately erupted into noisy discussion.
"Glover?"
"The Glovers of Deepwood Motte?"
"A mere Wolfswood house dares reach for House Stark?"
"Overestimating themselves…"
Nearby, Jaime Lannister leaned casually against a wooden pillar.
After hearing Theon's words, he finally understood why Garon had looked toward Joffrey so coldly earlier.
A mocking smile immediately appeared upon Jaime's face.
"A mere Glover wishes to marry into the family of the Warden of the North?"
His words instantly intensified the tension between the gathered nobles.
Meanwhile, atop the dais, Cersei also turned slightly toward Catelyn and smiled meaningfully.
"Lady Sansa is so beautiful."
"Wouldn't it be a pity for such a girl to spend her life in the Wolfswood?"
Catelyn naturally understood that openly showing delight now would only expose her involvement.
Thus, she merely forced a bitter smile without replying.
Robert, however, had already completely misunderstood the situation.
He heavily patted Ned's shoulder and laughed loudly.
"So that's all?"
"If there's no formal betrothal yet, then there's no problem at all!"
"I imagine House Glover will know when to back down."
Ned grew increasingly anxious.
"Your Grace, I already gave Garon my word…"
But Robert was too drunk to care.
He waved his hand dismissively.
"Enough, Ned."
"This matter is settled."
"If that Garon fellow is dissatisfied, I'll personally persuade him."
The moment those words fell, Garon slowly rose to his feet beneath Ser Rodrik's worried gaze.
Calmly surveying the entire hall, he first glanced toward Roger within the crowd and subtly nodded.
Only afterward did he finally look toward King Robert without the slightest ripple upon his face.
"Your Grace…"
"My name is Garon."
"Galon Glover."