The Banquet Begins

When Garon was notified by his attendant to attend the banquet, the time was already nearing dusk.

He tidied his appearance and attire, then calmly walked out of his bedchamber.

He followed the corridor until he reached the bustling courtyard.

Garon paused on the stone steps and surveyed his surroundings.

Within his line of sight, sworn knights, members of the Kingsguard, and vassals from various great houses were all making their way toward the Great Hall in an orderly fashion.

They chatted happily in twos and threes, looking forward to the upcoming feast.

Suddenly.

Jon, appearing from who knows where, waved at Garon from within the crowd, "Garon, over here, over here!"

Garon followed the voice and walked quickly to meet him, laughing, "Jon, aren't you supposed to be accompanying Lord Benjen?"

Jon shook his head and explained, "Uncle Benjen went back to rest after meeting with Lord Ned."

"He has to make an appearance with those big shots later, and a bastard like me can't exactly join in on that."

"That makes sense," Garon said with understanding, "Then let me, a small fry, accompany you instead."

Garon and Jon looked at each other and laughed in unison.

The two walked side by side, following the flow of the crowd toward the Great Hall.

A moment later, they stepped into the hall.

Under the arrangements of Maester Luwin, Garon and Jon were separated.

Garon was seated with the vassals of Winterfell, while Jon was placed at the end of the long hall, with Garon's captain of the guard, Roger, also at Jon's table.

The two were separated by two long tables.

Fortunately, both were seated near the side aisle, so when the King and the others entered later, they would pass right by them, allowing for a good look at their grandeur.

Garon first exchanged greetings with Ser Rodrik and the others before he had time to look around the hall.

At this moment, the banquet had not yet begun, and the important figures had not yet made their entrance.

The Great Hall of Winterfell was steaming with heat, filled with the aroma of roasted meat and freshly baked bread.

The grey stone walls of the hall were hung with the banners of various houses: the white direwolf of House Stark, the golden crowned stag of House Baratheon, and the crimson roaring lion of House Lannister.

"One day, I will make the Great Hall of Winterfell hang the banner of House Glover high as well!"

Garon's gaze swept over the banners, and he secretly swore an oath in his heart.

As the crowd gradually filled the hall, the important figures began to appear one by one.

Garon stood up with the others, his eyes fixed on the main entrance of the hall.

Ned Stark escorted Queen Cersei as they walked in front.

Cersei strode forward like a proud lioness, her gaze fixed directly on the high seat of the hall, looking down on everyone else with disdain.

Even when Ned helped her onto the dais, she only wore a fake smile, her eyes never once landing on him.

Heh, Cersei!

Garon stared at the radiant Cersei, a strange impulse flashing through his heart.

Just at this moment, King Robert entered the hall, arm in arm with Catelyn.

The King's gaze was like a torch, sweeping across the hall with majesty, while Catelyn walked gracefully with a poised smile.

Garon watched the two walk up to the dais.

However, as Catelyn passed by him, she glanced at him slightly, carrying an inscrutable smile.

Garon's heart sank instantly.

It seems she is determined to stir up trouble at the banquet.

Could it be that she said something to Robert?

Otherwise, why would she be so confident?

His mind raced as he silently guessed how Catelyn would act.

But no matter how Garon thought about it, he couldn't figure out what Catelyn could possibly do to ruin this marriage.

Forget it, when the soldiers come, block them; when the water comes, earth covers it!

He muttered in his heart, deciding to wait and see what happened, meeting each move as it came.

Following Robert and Catelyn was Rickon, who was trying hard to act like an adult, walking in with a feigned solemnity.

However, when he saw Jon at the door, he greeted him excitedly, causing his demeanor to fall apart completely.

This made Jon laugh, and he urged him repeatedly to take his seat quickly.

After that, Robb walked into the hall, arm in arm with Myrcella.

Myrcella, not yet ten years old, already possessed the budding appearance of a beauty, and Robb couldn't stop grinning foolishly as he looked at her profile.

Myrcella could only respond with an awkward, bashful smile.

"How embarrassing, Robb."

"Didn't you even see the look in Myrcella's eyes?"

As Robb passed by him, Garon gave him a look to draw his attention, but Robb was too busy grinning like a fool to notice at all.

It wasn't until he took his seat that Robb finally realized what had happened and reined himself in.

Next, Arya and Tommen followed them inside; the two didn't cause any trouble, as they weren't particularly familiar with anyone yet.

Then, Sansa accompanied Joffrey as they stepped into the hall.

Joffrey cast a disdainful glance around the hall, as if the Great Hall of Winterfell were nothing more than a dilapidated country shack, unworthy of mention.

He moved at a leisurely pace, occasionally casting scornful looks at the nobles of Winterfell, and occasionally turning his head to offer a haughty smile to Sansa.

As for Sansa, she maintained a polite, distant smile from beginning to end.

Only when she passed by Garon did she reveal a hint of joy and shyness.

Especially when Garon gazed at her with deep affection.

Joffrey keenly noticed Sansa's attitude toward Garon, and he couldn't help but cast a haughty glance at Garon.

But when Joffrey saw that Garon was taller and more handsome than himself, a flicker of jealousy flashed in his eyes.

He snorted coldly and quickened his pace, forcing Sansa to speed up as well.

Joffrey's lack of gentlemanly conduct caused Jaime, who was following behind, to frown slightly.

He hadn't noticed Garon; he was simply wondering what had caused Joffrey to throw another one of his tantrums.

Tyrion walked with his short legs, his steps unsteady as he followed behind Jaime.

The afternoon's activities had indeed proven Garon's prediction correct—

At this moment, his legs were weak, yet his face was filled with a calm, desireless smile.

However, when Tyrion walked past Garon, he winked at him, leaving Garon feeling somewhat bewildered.

Finally, Benjen Stark of the Night's Watch led Ned's ward, Theon Greyjoy, into the hall.

Benjen, clad in black, nodded at Garon with a smile, and Garon responded with a smile of his own.

Beside Benjen, Theon's heart was surging with uncontrollable ecstasy.

The moment he thought of what Catelyn had said to him before the banquet, his face couldn't help but be filled with an extremely smug grin.

Garon, oh Garon, with Lady Catelyn's plan...

This evening banquet will be your last in Winterfell.

You want to marry into the family with Sansa? Not a chance!

Over the past few days, Theon had been deeply frustrated by Garon, and even Robb was entirely on his side, which the self-important Theon found deeply shameful.

Therefore, when Catelyn approached him and asked for his cooperation, Theon agreed without a moment's hesitation.

At this moment, Theon even cast a provocative look at Garon, already imagining the scene of Garon's future frustration and anger.

Judging by his expression, he must have devised some trap with Catelyn, waiting for me to jump right in.

Garon noticed Theon's expression and remained calm internally: Then let us each show our own skills.

I'd like to see what moves you have in store!

He braced himself with full focus, ready to respond at any moment.

Once Benjen and Theon had entered, the entire Great Hall of Winterfell was packed to capacity.

Ned Stark rose with a goblet in his hand and gave a light cough, drawing everyone's attention to himself.

"My lords and ladies!"

"The King and Queen have traveled from afar to grace Winterfell with their presence; it is truly an honor for The North!"

"Let us raise our glasses together to toast the King and Queen!"

"Long live the King! Long live the Queen!"

As his words fell, everyone raised their glasses and cheered in unison.

When the cheering died down, Robert, showing no airs, stood up, drained his goblet in one gulp, and laughed heartily.

"Enough with the formalities! Let us enjoy the feast to our hearts' content!"

The hall erupted into cheers.