Family

"Joel?"

Garon froze, the image of "Fast-Legs Joel," who had escaped his men four days ago, flashing through his mind as he lowered his head and muttered to himself.

"I never expected him to make it to Deepwood Motte alive."

"I thought for sure he'd died in the Wolfswood."

Hearing Garon's self-talk, Robett asked with a puzzled look, "Garon, do you know him?"

Garon looked up at Robett and explained, "Yes. The night before I returned from Winterfell, Ser Rodrik and I hunted down a suspect who was conspiring with Theon—it was him!"

Robett's expression brightened, and he smiled, saying, "Then the Old Gods be praised!"

"I'll take some men tomorrow and escort him straight back to Winterfell to be dealt with by Lord Ned."

But Garon shook his head, stopping him.

"Uncle Robett, there's no rush to send him to Winterfell. Lock him up for a few days and don't give him any food."

"Once he's starved enough, I'll go and interrogate him myself!"

Robett couldn't help but feel a bit confused.

However, knowing his nephew had always been full of ideas, he thought for a moment and agreed, "Very well, I understand!"

Seeing that Robett had agreed, Garon recalled another matter.

"Uncle Robett, before I left, Lord Ned ordered me to dispatch one hundred archers to garrison Moat Cailin."

"Tomorrow morning, pull one hundred men from the clans, and let..."

Garon's mind raced through the many members of House Glover, a tall figure gradually becoming clear, "Let Newgate go."

But Robett was puzzled and asked, "Garon, why would Lord Ned suddenly want to station troops at Moat Cailin? Could it be..."

Garon did not answer immediately, instead pondering how to explain it to Robett.

He slowly poured another glass of wine, but just as he brought it to his lips, a flurry of hurried footsteps sounded from outside the door.

Robett's wife, Sibella Locke, directed the servants to bring in steaming hot food, followed by Lawrence and Gavin, as well as a little girl who had just learned to walk—Aina Glover.

"Garon, why are you sneaking wine again?"

"Haven't I told you many times that you are still too young to drink!"

Seeing Garon drinking again, Sibella walked over, looking displeased.

Seeing her mother snatch the wine glass from Garon's hand, Aina, who was behind her, giggled foolishly.

"Brother Garon is being disobedient and got scolded by Mother again!"

"Brother Garon is a bad boy—ah!"

Garon couldn't help but stand up, walk over to her, and suddenly lift Aina into the air.

This drew a shriek of surprise from Aina.

But she quickly realized Garon was playing a game with her, so she kicked her legs hard against Garon's shoulders, giggling in the air as if she were riding a horse.

A moment later.

Garon smiled and set the still-excited Aina back on the ground.

He looked at Sibella and complained softly, "Aunt Sibella, I only had one glass, didn't I?"

"When I was at Winterfell, I drank plenty of toasts from the King himself..."

Sibella raised an eyebrow and shot him a cold look, causing Garon to immediately fall silent.

Garon's mother had died in childbirth, and because of this, the original Garon had lacked maternal love from a young age.

It wasn't until Sibella Locke married into House Glover that she took on the role of Garon's mother, assuming the responsibility of caring for him.

In the eyes of the original Garon, Sibella was just like his own mother.

After Garon transmigrated, he inherited these feelings and held Sibella in high regard.

He never went against her on the small matters of daily life.

Seeing that Garon had stopped talking, Sibella said with a huff.

"Winterfell is Winterfell, and this is Deepwood Motte. The King hasn't come to Deepwood Motte, so he has no say over me."

Robett shook his head and smoothed things over, "It's just a glass of wine. When I was Garon's age, Galbart and I had already snuck plenty of drinks."

Sibella glared at Robett with dissatisfaction.

Robett gave a sheepish smile and stopped trying to defend Garon, which made Lawrence, watching from the side, chuckle to himself.

Fortunately, the servants had finished setting out the food by then.

"Let's eat!"

Garon called out, and the others took their seats one after another.

Sibella looked at Garon's travel-worn face and couldn't help but add, "Where is Steward Morman? Why didn't you have the servants help you wash up first?"

"Look at you now, you don't have a shred of noble decorum."

"You wouldn't act like this at Winterfell, would you?"

Sibella chattered on, just like any mother in the world concerned for her child.

Back at Deepwood Motte, Garon felt everything relax and said nonchalantly, "Aunt Sibella, I've already had Steward Mormont settle Jon in."

"Besides, after traveling for four days straight, if I were to wash up first, I'd probably fall asleep immediately."

"Let's just eat first!"

Garon had transmigrated for half a year; although he had grown accustomed to the noble life in Westeros, he would still occasionally reveal his past-life personality when he let his guard down.

Hearing this, Sibella had no choice but to let Garon be.

The family sat at the dining table and began to enjoy their dinner in silence.

During the meal, Robett recalled the earlier topic and couldn't help but ask again, "Garon, you still haven't said why Lord Ned wanted to deploy one hundred archers to Moat Cailin."

Garon swallowed his bread and deliberated, "Lord Ned did it just in case!"

"Hm?"

Seeing that Robett didn't understand, Garon decided to explain it plainly.

"Because of Bran's fall from the tower, the relationship between Lord Ned and the Lannisters has become extremely rigid and hostile."

"At the time, Lord Ned even wanted me to arrest the Kingslayer."

He recalled the scene at the time and continued, "I suspect Lord Ned is worried that the Lannisters might mobilize their army to retaliate against The North."

"After all, Lord Tywin values the honor of the Lannisters above all else!"

The knife and fork in Robett's hands scraped against the roasted meat, his expression thoughtful.

A moment later, he snorted coldly, "The Lannisters cause trouble in The North and still dare to provoke Lord Ned; they truly have a death wish."

"Garon, you should have followed Lord Ned's orders back then and arrested the Kingslayer."

"Let those soft knights from the south see that we in The North are not to be trifled with!"

Lawrence swallowed the piece of meat in his mouth and chimed in, "That's right, I've heard of the Kingslayer; they say he killed the King by stabbing him in the back."

"His swordsmanship must be terrible; he definitely wouldn't be a match for Garon!"

Garon shook his head and admonished Lawrence, "Seeing is not always believing, let alone what you hear with your ears?"

"Lawrence, you must remember, never underestimate the Kingslayer in the future!"

"His swordsmanship is second to none even among the Kingsguard; to underestimate him is to gamble with your own life!"

Lawrence felt ashamed after Garon's lecture and could only bury his head to continue gnawing on his roasted meat.

Seeing him like this, Garon lightened the mood, "However, Lawrence is right about one thing: he is indeed no match for me!"

"At the time, he was so scared he even dropped his sword."

"Haha..."

Lawrence and Gavin looked up abruptly, gazing at Garon with admiration.

Even in Robett's eyes, there was a flicker of surprise and immense pride.

The dinner ended in such a pleasant atmosphere.