Premeditation

The very boring banquet hosted by House Stark finally ended only when King Robert, the big-bellied king, had drunk himself into a stupor and collapsed over the long table, snoring loudly.

The servants carried the drunken nobles back to their rooms. Everyone else in the banquet hall who could still walk went home, while those dead drunk slept where they were.

When Robb returned to his room with Blood Wind, Theon had already been waiting for who knew how long. As soon as Robb led him inside, Theon reported that he had been spotted while tailing someone that day.

"Theon, starting tomorrow, have Owen follow Jaime Lannister. Back when he was with the mountain clans, even the craftiest prey couldn't escape his tracking."

After a moment's thought, Robb said,

"Then pick a few sharp Wolf Guard members and have them spread word through the villages around Winterfell that Direwolves have been spotted in the Wolfswood."

"Understood. I'll report back once it's done."

Theon nodded, agreeing without another word.

After working together for a while, he had learned that Robb would tell him anything he was willing to share. There was no point in asking about what he wasn't.

"How much progress have we made on the arrangements?"

"The goods have been handed over to us and are now on the way. The staff schedule for the Main Keep has also been set."

"Good. Get some rest. I'll see you at the Training Ground tomorrow morning."

"Good night!"

Cersei swirled the wine in her goblet, shot Tyrion a disdainful look across the table, then turned to Jaime beside her. "House Stark has an outstanding next generation. I've already reported it to Father. What do you think?"

"Hunters usually shoot down the bird flying at the front. A genius is the most likely to die young. I think it'd be perfectly normal if something happened to this Young Wolf Lord."

Jaime answered his sister's question nonchalantly.

He didn't care in the slightest about the Young Wolf Lord. He was only humoring Cersei.

Cersei clearly agreed with Jaime. She held her goblet against her red lips, rubbing it there as she pondered. "Then what sort of accident would seem reasonable?"

"Heh! Living under your host's roof while plotting to murder his son. You two really are just like Father—proper Lannisters!"

Tyrion's face twisted into a mocking smile as he said something unpleasant, yet righteous.

"Can you ever say anything nice?

"If you enjoy the benefits the Lannisters provide, you should fulfill your duties and obligations."

Cersei set down her goblet and spoke to Tyrion, biting her lip.

"Of course I can say nice things. Whores from north to south have all heard me say nice things! Haven't they, Jaime?"

Tyrion first smiled at Jaime and cracked a joke, then let the smile fade and turned to Cersei.

"Benefits? At Casterly Rock, I sorted out all the shit and piss that could've piled up into mountains, keeping the Lannisters in a clean environment for decades. And you still think I owe you for the benefits you've given me, a dwarf?

"Besides, in Father's eyes, I don't even have the Lannister name. So don't say things like that to me."

After finishing, Tyrion slammed his goblet onto the table, jumped down from his chair, and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Jaime reached out as if to stop Tyrion, but as he watched his brother's retreating back, he had no idea what to say.

Cersei glared resentfully at the closed door, biting her lip hard.

At daybreak the next morning, Robb arrived at the Training Ground entrance right on time.

All the Wolf Guard stood in formation, including Little Jon, who had been dead drunk the day before.

Robb nodded to himself, stepped forward, and led them through their routine training for the day.

As the sun slowly rose, quiet Winterfell began to wake.

The people of Winterfell were already accustomed to seeing Robb and the others train. The visitors from King's Landing, however, watched in astonishment.

Robb was currently leading the Wolf Guard through basic formation drills.

On the walkway outside the Training Ground, Joffrey strolled in his splendid coat. Sunlight made his golden hair gleam, and with the handsome face he had inherited from his parents, he truly was a beautiful young man.

Many of Winterfell's maids flirted with Prince Joffrey, hoping to win his favor.

Joffrey wasn't particularly interested in women, but he enjoyed the attention.

When he reached the Training Ground with The Hound and his other guards, he spotted Robb and the others training at once, so he stopped to watch.

Watching Robb and the others march around the Training Ground in neat formation, as if they were playing at soldiers, Joffrey couldn't help laughing and clapping. "Ha ha ha! You look so good marching in such neat rows.

"What a great training method! Nobody gets hurt. Unlike the soldiers in King's Landing, who train with real spears and swords. They bleed easily, and sometimes people even die."

The Wolf Guard could hardly miss the mockery in his words. They had initially been skeptical of this training method themselves, but hadn't dared speak up because Robb had ordered it.

After seeing combat, though, they had learned the benefits of formation drills.

A disciplined unit that followed orders and fought in formation was more effective than a chaotic free-for-all on the battlefield, and its chances of survival were far greater.

So, though Joffrey's mockery angered them, they could only keep their tempers in check and maintain their formation, since Robb hadn't ordered them to rest.

Robb ignored him and continued leading the group through their regular formation drills.

"Dog, have you ever seen any sissy army in King's Landing train like this?"

Seeing that Robb didn't dare respond, Joffrey grew bolder and turned to loudly ask The Hound behind him.

"This is the first time, Your Highness," The Hound answered in his distinctive iron dog-head helmet.

"Ha ha ha! I bet from Westeros to Essos, Winterfell's training method is one of a kind... Sissies!"

"Pfft!"

"Heh heh heh!"

As soon as Joffrey finished mocking them with a laugh, all the guards around him except The Hound snickered.

Robb led the Wolf Guard to the far end of the Training Ground, facing Joffrey and his party, then suddenly stopped.

He drew the blunt training sword at his waist, pointed it diagonally forward, and shouted, "Draw swords! Charge!"

Clang!...

Every Wolf Guard member drew a blunt sword and charged behind Robb, maintaining their formation as they rushed toward Joffrey and his party.

Their eyes brimmed with murderous intent, as though the loathsome Wildlings they had fought before stood before them.

Clang! Clang...

Seeing Robb and the others charge toward them and sensing their murderous intent, The Hound immediately lowered his iron dog-head helmet over his head. He stepped in front of Joffrey, drew his sword, and bent his knees into a combat stance.

The other guards' laughter cut off abruptly. Only when they saw The Hound move did they react, hurriedly drawing their swords to protect Joffrey.

Joffrey, protected in the middle of the group, turned ashen. He had met Robb's icy gaze earlier and felt that Robb wasn't playing around—that he really meant to kill him.

"Protect me! Damn it, move! Get me out of here!"