Leaving Winterfell

The next day, just as the sky began to brighten.

Garon, not yet eighteen, climbed out of bed and began to pack his belongings.

He splashed some water on his face and glanced around the bedroom, though there seemed to be nothing left to pack.

With that, he got dressed, buckled his sword to his waist, and stepped out the door.

Outside, Winterfell was deathly quiet.

Garon took a deep breath of the fresh air, exhaling the stuffiness of the night, and set off toward the stables.

Passing by the room of Tyrion, he could faintly hear the sound of him snoring.

Garon did not stop; the people he needed to say goodbye to had already been seen yesterday, and for those he shouldn't, words were meaningless.

He walked straight along the corridor, heading forward.

When he reached the training grounds, Garon found that Ned and Sansa were already waiting for him.

Garon dared not delay, quickly walking over, "Lord Ned, Lady Sansa!"

Ned nodded slightly, while Sansa looked at him with a hint of reluctance.

"Let's go, I'll see you off!"

Ned turned and led the two toward the stables, "After you return, remember what I said yesterday—send more scouts to Sea Dragon Point!"

Garon said in a deep voice, "I understand, Lord Ned. I will see to it immediately upon my return!"

After the series of events over the past few days, Ned was naturally convinced of Garon's strategic wisdom.

Yet, he still feared that Garon was too young and might inevitably be negligent or act on impulse, so he gave a few more earnest instructions.

Garon took every word of Ned's to heart, without a hint of impatience.

Seeing him so composed, Ned couldn't help but relax, sighing, "It is a pity you are still so young, otherwise I would truly want to take you to King's Landing."

Garon smiled meaningfully, "There will be opportunities!"

Ned didn't think much of it, assuming Garon meant he would wait a few years before going to King's Landing, "Indeed, you are still young; there will be plenty of chances to visit King's Landing."

"Alright, I will see you off to here; let Sansa accompany you for the rest of the way!"

Ned's words carried a double meaning, causing Sansa to glare at her father.

"Haha—"

Ned smiled, turned, and walked toward the nearby hall, as he still had to report last night's events to Robert.

After Ned left, Sansa gathered her courage and said, "Garon, when will you come to Winterfell again?"

"I want to use the pelt of the Giant Bear you hunted to sew you a cloak!"

As Garon walked slowly with Sansa, he said with pleasant surprise, "Really?"

Seeing Sansa nod in admission, he smiled and replied, "Then I shall look forward to it every day at Deepwood Motte. As for returning to Winterfell..."

Garon pondered for a moment, thinking of the major events about to unfold, and said mysteriously, "I don't think it will be long before we meet again!"

Sansa assumed Garon was talking about the time he would come to marry her, and her cheeks flushed with a rosy glow.

She thought about it seriously and muttered, "That is still a year away..."

Seeing that Sansa had misunderstood, Garon did not correct her, but instead smiled, "I once heard a saying that I think suits us well."

Sansa blinked, curious, "What is it?"

"If our hearts are one, what need is there for us to be together every day?" Garon tilted his head to look at Sansa, "We will have plenty of time to spend together in the future; why fret over this one measly year?"

Sansa lowered her head in shyness, not daring to meet Garon's naked, burning gaze.

Fortunately, they had reached the stables by then.

Robb, Jon, and Arya had been waiting for a long time, and Roger and four other Deepwood Motte soldiers were busy loading dry rations onto the horses.

"Robb!"

Garon greeted him, then nodded to Arya and Jon.

Robb said with some reluctance, "Must it really be today? Why not stay a few more days?"

Garon smiled, "Lord Ned is worried about trouble in the Iron Islands; if I return early, I can make better preparations."

Robb sighed, feeling downcast.

The recent events had been overwhelming, especially since he never expected that Theon would be one of the culprits behind the attempt on Bran's life.

Although Theon was dead, the shock to his heart had not yet subsided.

Robb looked at Garon, not knowing what else to say, and in the end, could only wish Garon a safe journey.

Garon understood Robb's mood and comforted him, "Robb, don't dwell on it anymore. Although one of the culprits who harmed Bran is dead and the other has fled, you must still remain vigilant."

"Once Lord Ned heads south, the burden of Winterfell will rest entirely on your shoulders!"

Upon hearing this, Robb felt the immense pressure and nodded heavily.

Seeing this, Garon greeted Arya once more and answered a few of her questions with a smile.

At this moment, Roger walked over leading the horses, "Lord Garon, the dry rations have been prepared."

"Mm," Garon took the reins and looked at Jon, "Jon, say your goodbyes to your family. I will wait for you at Hunter's Gate!"

Seeing Jon looking around with some reluctance, Garon, Roger, and the other three men mounted their horses. Before leaving, he cast one last glance at Sansa.

"Garon, take care on the road!"

Garon smiled in response, then flicked the reins and spurred his horse toward Hunter's Gate.

A short while later.

Garon arrived outside Hunter's Gate, pulled on the reins, and looked back at Winterfell in silence, reviewing the gains and losses of these past few days.

"By becoming betrothed to Sansa and using Jaime to kill Theon, I have obtained what I wanted. Next, I just wait for the plot to reach its climax."

"This time, I am still a minor character, merely playing a supporting role."

"Next time, it will be my turn to be the protagonist!"

A surge of ambition rose in his heart, and even the horse beneath him seemed to sense his resolve, beginning to pace restlessly in place.

Just then, the sound of hoofbeats rang out.

Jon, carrying his pack, rode over with his Direwolf, Ghost.

"Lord Garon, let us set off!"

Garon snapped out of his thoughts and asked, "Why not spend a little more time with Robb and the others?"

Jon shook his head and said, "No, I've seen everyone I needed to see, and the parting gifts have been delivered. There is nothing left to linger for."

Although he said that, Garon could still hear the reluctance in his tone.

"Rest assured, I don't think it will be long before we return to Winterfell."

Garon comforted him, "Let's go, it's time for us to return to Deepwood Motte!"

"Hyah!"

Garon pointed ahead, and the party of seven riders and one wolf galloped toward the Wolfswood.

In the blink of an eye, the group vanished into the wilderness before Winterfell.

By the time Robert learned that Garon had returned to Deepwood Motte, it was already noon.

A hangover from the previous night had kept him asleep until nearly midday.

He sat at the dining table in the Great Hall, listening to Ned report on the events of the night before.

"What?"

Robert was shocked, "You mean one of the free riders who came with me was involved in the attempted murder of Bran?"

After understanding the situation, he slammed his goblet onto the floor and roared, "Damn it, who exactly brought that free rider in!"

"Investigate! Get to the bottom of this!"

"Have the maester send ravens to the surrounding lords. I want him found, dead or alive!"

Jaime and Cersei exchanged glances; for a moment, neither of them could figure out what had actually happened, or that some scoundrel had truly attempted to assassinate Bran.

The atmosphere in the hall was strange.

No one noticed the flicker of fear in Joffrey's eyes as he kept his head down, eating.

Soon, under Robert's orders—

Over the next few days, an investigation into Joel was carried out in full swing.

Of course.

Garon, who had already left, knew nothing of these matters. He was still leading his men through the Wolfswood, making haste to return to Deepwood Motte.