The Proposal

The North, Wolfswood.

Oak trees rose tall, their gray-green needles interwoven with the leaves of the Sentinel Trees, blocking out the faint light.

In the gloom, the clatter of hoofbeats drew nearer, and Galon Glover emerged from the shadows between the trees.

He wore leather armor, a longsword hanging at his waist, and rode onward.

Five well-trained soldiers from Deepwood Motte guarded him on all sides, ever watchful for beasts in the woods.

But aside from the occasional howl of a wolf, they encountered no sign of any beasts along the way.

By the time dawn broke, the six riders had finally reached the edge of the Wolfswood.

Galon led the way as he rode out of the Wolfswood.

In an instant, the view opened up before them.

Across the vast wilderness, a magnificent castle stood proudly before their eyes.

It was the seat of power in the North—

Winterfell!

Galon reined in his horse and gazed at the castle in the distance, his eyes filled with longing.

A long while passed.

He tore his gaze away and turned to the guards beside him.

"Brothers!" Galon pointed at the castle ahead and called out, "Winterfell is right there. Check the gifts and raise our banners!"

A soldier from Deepwood Motte immediately raised the Glover family banner, a silver steel fist on a red field.

The banner rippled and snapped in the wind.

The others checked and arranged the gifts on their horses, making sure nothing had been left behind.

Only after everything was ready did Galon wave them onward.

"Pick up the pace!"

"The delicious broth by Winterfell's hearth won't wait for latecomers!"

With that, Galon flicked his reins and galloped toward Winterfell.

The other five riders also urged their horses on, following close behind.

On the way, the captain of the guards riding at Galon's right couldn't help calling out with a laugh, "Ha! It's not just delicious broth!"

"Lovely Lady Sansa is waiting for our lord, too!"

The others immediately burst into laughter.

Galon's lips curled up slightly, but he didn't deny it.

He had come to Winterfell at Ned Stark's invitation to ask for his blessing to marry Sansa Stark, hoping to become betrothed to her.

Thinking of Ned's letter, Galon's heart began to leap.

Now!

He was one step closer to Winterfell.

"Hyah!"

Thrilled, Galon swung his whip and urged his horse to go faster.

As his horse picked up speed, the scenery before him lurched past, and memories of the past came flooding back.

Galon had been transported to the North, on the continent of Westeros, half a year ago.

He had also become the only son of Galbart Glover, the lord of Deepwood Motte, a character who had never appeared in the original story.

At first, Galon had been completely bewildered.

He had watched the Game of Thrones TV series and remembered that Galbart had never married. Aside from his adopted son, Lawrence Snow, he didn't have a single bastard.

And yet Galon had been transported into the body of a character who had never appeared in the original story.

Meanwhile, Galbart, who had never had a son, had been gravely wounded in the Iron Islands campaign nine years earlier, and his injuries had never healed.

Naturally, Galon became the rightful heir to Deepwood Motte.

Faced with this situation, Galon had racked his brain without finding an answer, then decided there was no point in dwelling on it.

He was here now, after all.

He might as well be practical and think about how to face the crisis that was coming.

At the time, Ned's journey south to King's Landing was only a few months away.

And Ned, who arrived in King's Landing and became Hand of the King, soon died alongside Robert in a conspiracy.

Their deaths sparked the War of the Five Kings!

At the start of the war, the Northern army, led by the Young Wolf, Robb, won one victory after another.

But the good times didn't last.

A series of blunders by Robb and his mother ended up getting most of the Northern soldiers killed in the Riverlands, including those from Deepwood Motte.

At the same time, the Iron Islands took advantage of the North's absence and sent troops to seize Deepwood Motte.

The Glover family was wiped out.

If Galon didn't want to die at Harrenhal or be captured by the Iron Islands, he had to win the several major battles ahead.

As a military enthusiast in his previous life, Galon clearly understood that victory was impossible unless he gained independent command of the army—or betrayed the Starks, like House Bolton.

Otherwise, he would meet the same fate as in the original story.

Galon hadn't considered betrayal. Instead, he'd thought about how to gain independent command.

He soon found his answer—

Marry Sansa Stark!

"Once I marry Sansa, I'll have a claim to Winterfell, and from there I can command the Northern army."

"With the support of the Northern lords, I'll be able to change Deepwood Motte's fate."

"I might even have a chance to set my sights on King's Landing..."

After sorting out his thoughts, Galon went to his father, Galbart, and told him he wanted to marry Sansa.

By then, Galbart's old wounds had flared up again, and he didn't have long to live.

On his deathbed, he agreed to Galon's proposal and had the maester write to his liege, Ned Stark, asking Ned to approve a match between Galon and Sansa.

Unfortunately, Galbart died before Ned's reply arrived.

After learning of his death, Ned promised at Galbart's funeral that he would give Galon an answer once Galon had learned the duties of a lord.

So for the past six months, Galon had stayed at Deepwood Motte, learning how to govern and training the troops.

Then, not long ago, he received a letter from Ned inviting him to Winterfell.

Galon knew the matter of the betrothal must have been settled.

That was why he was on his way to Winterfell today.

The clatter of hooves now disturbed the soldiers stationed at Hunter's Gate in Winterfell.

They looked out and immediately spotted the banner, a silver steel fist on a red field.

Recognizing it, the captain shouted, "House Glover is here!"

"Quick, go notify the lord!"

At his words, one of the soldiers hurried into the castle.

By the time Galon and his party reached Hunter's Gate, Robb Stark had arrived to welcome him.

Galon reined in sharply and leaped down from his horse.

"Robb!"

With a broad smile, he stepped forward and embraced Robb, who had come to meet him.

Robb was delighted, too. "Galon, it's been a long time!"

They let go and exchanged smiles.

Robb looked Galon up and down, then said enviously, "You've grown taller!"

They had met at Galbart's funeral.

Back then, Galon and Robb had been about the same age and nearly the same size.

But now, Galon stood a head taller than Robb.

With his handsome, broad-shouldered frame, he was an imposing sight.

Perhaps it was because of his transmigration, but Galon could clearly feel that his body had changed over the past six months.

He was not only energetic and sharp-minded; he was also stronger than an ordinary man.

At Deepwood Motte, Galon had once defeated ten elite soldiers by himself, including his uncle Robett.

And after months of training, his body had developed rapidly. Compared with six months ago, he was practically a different person.

He was about to explain, but then he noticed a gray-and-white pup following Robb.

"Huh, is that a direwolf?"

Galon's heart stirred. He pretended to be surprised as he asked Robb. When Robb nodded proudly, Galon thought to himself:

"Robb has a direwolf. Robert must have reached the North by now, and he'll be at Winterfell in just a few days."

"No wonder Ned asked me to come. Does he want me to make an impression on the king?"

Galon's gaze turned thoughtful, and a flurry of ideas ran through his mind.

He believed that since Ned had invited him, he wouldn't go back on his word.

But Sansa was too important, and he still worried that Robert might ruin the betrothal.

Without Sansa, Galon could forget about the Iron Throne; he might not even be able to control the North.

If he had been transported here earlier, he could have closed the gap little by little by developing the land.

But as it happened—

Winter Is Coming!

"Whatever happens, I'm determined to have Sansa!"

"If Joffrey gets in the way, I might just send him to meet the Seven while he's still at Winterfell."

A murderous glint flashed in Galon's eyes, but he smiled as he listened to Robb boast about his direwolf.

"Galon, Grey Wind is much stronger than an ordinary wolf. Even the dogs in Winterfell are afraid to go near him."

"Come on, Grey Wind!"

Young and eager to show off, Robb beckoned to the pup, hoping to impress Galon.

But Grey Wind seemed to sense something dangerous. He arched his back, bared his teeth at Galon, and let out a growl.

He looked as if he were facing a formidable enemy.

"Grey Wind?"

Robb looked puzzled. It was the first time he had seen Grey Wind so tense.

Galon's heart tightened. He hadn't expected the direwolf to be so perceptive that he could even sense Galon's murderous intent.

But he quickly put on a startled expression and looked at Robb.

Robb was just as baffled. He couldn't figure out what had gotten into Grey Wind, so he crouched down and tried to calm him with a hand.

After a while, Grey Wind gradually settled down.

Robb shook his head, none the wiser, and could only assume Grey Wind was frightened by strangers.

He got up and moved on, inviting Galon to the great hall of Winterfell to meet Ned Stark.

Galon gladly agreed, and the two of them chatted as they crossed the drawbridge toward the inner ward.

On the way, Galon noticed that Winterfell was caught up in a festive bustle, with everyone busy at work.

They were clearly preparing for the king's arrival.

As they passed the kitchens, Galon caught the scent of food and immediately asked Robb:

"Robb, could you ask the servants to prepare some broth for my guards?"

"They've been riding all night with me. They must be starving!"

Robb agreed with a smile. He beckoned two servants working in the kitchen and asked them to prepare some food for Galon's guards.

"Go on. Get something to eat with the brothers, and take good care of them."

Galon gave the captain of the guards a couple more instructions. Once he saw the five men enter the kitchen, he turned back to Robb.

"I didn't know you cared so much for your soldiers."

"Galon, it seems you've become an excellent lord over the past six months."

At Robb's praise, Galon shook his head and said with a sigh, "They swore their loyalty to me, so it's my duty to take responsibility for them as their lord."

"Besides, looking after them is only the most basic duty of a lord."

"Compared with Lord Ned, I still have a long way to go."

Galon's words gave Robb food for thought. He had recently begun learning from Ned how to lead.

After pondering for a moment,

Robb came to understand Galon a little better, and felt even closer to him.

"Come on, Father's waiting for us!"

Robb led Galon onward.

They passed the smithy, then walked along a corridor before finally reaching Winterfell's audience chamber.

Robb went in first and called out, "Father, Galon is here!"

Galon followed close behind. The first person he saw was a middle-aged man with dark brown hair and a gray beard, seated at the head of the hall—

Ned Stark!