The Great Hall of Winterfell.
The welcome feast for the King was lively, with everyone from Winterfell in attendance.
On the high platform sat the Duke and Duchess Stark and the King and Queen.
The princes and princesses and the Duke's children sat in a slightly lower position. Sansa accompanied the Crown Prince, Arya accompanied Prince Tommen, Robb accompanied Princess Myrcella, and Bran was responsible for looking after his three-year-old brother Rickon.
As for the bastard Jon, Lady Catelyn did not want him to insult the royal family, so she only allowed him to stay with the young squires at the end of the hall.
The King laughed loudly, "Ned, how was it? Was my entrance today shocking enough? It was damn exhilarating! King's Landing, what a great name, my son created it!"
Hearing Robert call him by his nickname, Eddard forced a smile at his brother and King, Robert.
The conversation with the King in the crypts that afternoon did not make Eddard happy.
The responsibility of the Hand of the King was too great. He would represent the King in issuing orders, wielding authority, commanding the army, and administering justice. In the event of the King's absence, illness, or other emergencies, he would even sit on the Iron Throne and directly rule the country.
Compared to this, Eddard preferred the title of Duke of Winterfell.
But how could he refuse when his brother, with whom he had grown up and fought alongside, asked him for help, and it was also an appointment from the King?
And the King even proposed betrothing Sansa to Prince Joffrey.
Eddard was deep in thought.
Joffrey quietly observed the Duke and Duchess Stark.
The success or failure of this trip to Winterfell was of great importance. The future development path would depend on the stance of House Stark.
It seemed the plot was developing well. Eddard Stark did not refuse to go south on the spot, which meant success.
Some hesitation leans towards refusal, while some hesitation is equivalent to agreement.
The focus would now be on the next generation of House Stark. Getting a few little wolves on board would ensure the North remained a stable rear for at least a few years.
Joffrey looked at the little wolves beside him.
Robb made an effort to remain calm and polite in every action, Arya was almost always restless, and Bran listened to the knights below telling stories while taking care of little Rickon.
Sansa's gaze flickered whenever it met his, her girlish thoughts written all over her face.
Joffrey shook his head, tossing his golden hair, letting the warm firelight fully display his exquisite features in Sansa's eyes.
"Sansa, it's too warm in here. I'd love to learn more about this ancient and great castle. Would you be willing to take me for a walk?"
Sansa barely thought about what the Prince said, "I would."
She felt as if her dream had come true.
Joffrey carefully helped Sansa up by the hand and moved step by step towards the main door along the bustling and crowded aisle.
Many people noticed this scene by the high platform. Except for Eddard Stark who mumbled something, everyone else only gave teasing glances and kind smiles.
Jon pondered Joffrey's true intentions.
As the two were about to cross the main door, Jon heard the Crown Prince's voice.
"There's a place for you in King's Landing."
With that simple sentence, Jon remembered the conversation he had with the Crown Prince that afternoon.
King's Landing, can I go to King's Landing too? Are the Night's Watch mostly scum and villains? What can I do in King's Landing?
His uncle, Benjen Stark, nudged him with his arm.
"Jon, what are you thinking about?"
Jon hesitated for a moment. He had already decided to tell his uncle that he was going to join the Night's Watch, but now...
"Nothing, Uncle."
Ghost gently gnawed at his hand. He stroked its fluffy fur and stopped eating.
At this moment, Winterfell was exceptionally quiet.
A large door seemed to separate two worlds. Inside was lively and restless, while outside was cold and lonely.
What a dark and isolated city.
Sansa shivered slightly and exhaled a breath of warm air, which turned into white mist and dissipated in the cold air.
Joffrey thoughtfully untied his wool cloak and draped it over her.
The golden cloak of the Crowned Stag covered her cloak with the Direwolf sigil, almost like the solemn ceremony of exchanging cloaks at a wedding.
In the warmth and illusion, Sansa was intoxicated.
The atmosphere was good. Joffrey held the dazed maiden tightly, and the two huddled together for warmth in the ice and snow.
After some time, Sansa shyly came back to her senses.
"Joffrey~"
She wanted to push Joffrey away, but was afraid of her Prince misunderstanding.
"Let's go back to the hall. It's so dark outside, we can't see anything, it's really scary."
Joffrey had no intention of wasting time at the feast.
He picked up a torch and put his arm around Sansa. "Don't be afraid. With me here, no ghosts or ghouls will dare come near. With no one else around, we can finally talk about what's in our hearts."
He could guarantee that he had a definite fondness for Sansa.
A beautiful Maiden who was infatuated with him, innocent and naive, and with the powerful and ancient House Stark as her dowry, who would dare say he didn't love Sansa?
The two walked slowly through the castle in the dark night.
The snow under their feet crunched rhythmically, and the torch crackled, illuminating the small space within a few meters.
In the silence and darkness, the two felt each other's presence even more strongly.
Sansa had a strange feeling, as if the world was only this big, containing only two people who deeply loved each other. She truly wished this path would be longer.
They stopped in a sheltered corner.
The faint fragrance of Sansa's auburn hair quickly filled the air.
Joffrey gazed affectionately into the Maiden's clear blue eyes.
"Sansa, the first time I saw you, I felt as if I had seen a beautiful and noble Princess. The North shouldn't be the only one to have you; you should become the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and let the whole world see the true beauty of a Maiden."
Sansa's face flushed, her eyes sparkling like a spring, as if she were in a dream.
Joffrey gently stroked the Maiden's long hair.
"The Gods bless us. My beautiful Princess, our fathers have decided to betroth us. I feel nothing but genuine happiness for this."
"Sansa, the Queen of love and beauty in my heart, will you be my wife?"
How could a Maiden who yearned for love refuse?
"The Gods! Joffrey, my Prince, of course I will!"
Their eyes were drawn to each other, sometimes shyly looking away.
The two moved closer and closer.
Sansa felt the Prince's hot breath, his burning love.
This could only be a beautiful dream.
The Prince's lips pressed against hers, and a tingling electric current shot through Sansa's body, scattering her thoughts. Only the sensation on her tongue remained clear.
Sansa instantly lost all strength.
Before she completely went limp, the Prince's strong arms wrapped around her, followed by an even more intense storm.
She tasted the Prince. Rich and passionate, full of vitality, the scent of fire, the taste of steel, the mysterious touch of flesh and blood that tempted one to fall into hell.
A captivating feeling she could never have imagined even in her dreams.
This wasn't a dream.
In her hazy consciousness, she confirmed this undeniable fact, her heart filled with wild joy.
The Gods protect us.
Let this moment last forever.
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