A Provocation

Garon knew nothing of Sansa's naïve ideas.

But he knew all too well what Robb was eager for.

When Robb heard that Westeros Chess could test a commander's ability, his eyes lit up. He looked as though he wanted to gobble up the chessboard in front of him.

Robb wasn't interested in Tile Chess, the game girls and weak southern nobles played.

But when it came to the strategic version of Westeros Chess, he was more engrossed than anyone.

While Garon paused for breath, Robb asked eagerly, "Garon, what are the rules?"

"How do these pieces move?"

"Why don't you teach me while we play a game?"

As he spoke, Robb reached for the pieces.

But Sansa stopped him.

"Robb, what are you doing?"

"This is my present. How can you just touch it?"

Sansa glared at Robb angrily.

Robb gave an awkward smile, but he still hadn't given up on the idea of playing a game first.

Seeing this, Garon smiled to himself.

He knew that his gift had won Sansa and everyone else over.

Sure enough, even a good product needs a bit of packaging.

Seeing that the two were at an impasse, Garon tried to smooth things over. "Westeros Chess requires two players."

"I'll teach you the basic rules now."

"Lady Sansa, you can listen while you try a game with Robb."

When neither of them objected, Garon cleared his throat and introduced the pieces on the board to everyone present.

"Westeros Chess has thirty-two pieces in all, sixteen for each player."

"Eight of them are soldiers, placed on the second row from the back."

"The crowned piece is the king. The game ends only when your opponent's king is checkmated..."

Garon's explanations were clear and easy to follow. Even Septa Mordane, who knew little about board games, listened intently.

Sansa and Robb were even more engrossed.

As they listened to Garon explain the rules, they began arranging the pieces and playing against each other.

Before long, Sansa and Robb were completely absorbed in Westeros Chess.

While Garon was teaching Sansa and the others to play Westeros Chess, Catelyn was in the guest chambers of the main keep.

Having just returned from the audience hall, she was inspecting the bedrooms prepared for the king and queen, with Maester Luwin accompanying her.

She directed the servants as they arranged the furnishings.

"Put some more candles here."

"And place some flowers on the table by the wall."

Once the servants had gone to carry out her instructions, Catelyn frowned and turned to the small, thin Maester Luwin.

"Maester Luwin, we'll need to prepare more wine for the king's arrival."

"Ned said King Robert drinks like a fish."

The gray-robed Maester Luwin replied, "My lady, I've already had eight barrels of ale brought up from the cellars."

"I'll have them bring up two more later."

"After all, I hear Lord Tyrion has a habit of drinking through the night, too."

At that, the image of a lecherous dwarf flashed through Catelyn's mind, and she rubbed her temples.

"How could I have forgotten him?"

"Maester Luwin, Lord Tyrion's room needs to be properly arranged."

"Take me there to have a look."

Maester Luwin nodded and turned to lead Catelyn toward the other end of the passage.

"Taking Lord Tyrion's height into account, I've arranged his bedroom on the ground floor..."

As they walked, Maester Luwin explained where Tyrion's bedroom was.

Catelyn listened absentmindedly, her thoughts returning now and then to Ned's decision earlier.

Sansa's betrothal to Glover felt like a thorn about to pierce her heart.

Maester Luwin, walking ahead, noticed that Catelyn's mind was elsewhere. He knew she must be troubled by Sansa's betrothal, and understood how she felt.

Maester Luwin gave a quiet sigh and said nothing more, continuing to lead the way in silence.

When they reached the end of the passage and were about to descend the stone steps,

Theon Greyjoy suddenly appeared around the corner, nearly colliding with Maester Luwin.

"Theon?"

"What are you doing here?"

Catelyn came back to herself, puzzled. She looked at Theon and asked, "Weren't you in the training yard with Bran, helping him practice archery?"

Theon naturally wasn't going to tell her how badly he'd embarrassed himself in the training yard.

He answered vaguely, "My lady, Ser Rodrik sent me."

"He said you were short of hands, so he asked me to come help."

Catelyn studied Theon, a hint of suspicion passing through her mind.

After all, when she'd left the audience hall that morning, she hadn't seen Ser Rodrik, let alone asked him to send Theon to help her.

Catelyn's thoughts stirred. She realized Theon must have come to see her for a reason.

Thinking of someone she disliked, she found an excuse to send Maester Luwin away.

"Maester Luwin, go wait for me in Lord Tyrion's bedroom."

"I'll be there shortly."

Maester Luwin nodded calmly, glanced at Theon, then walked straight down the stone steps.

Once Maester Luwin's footsteps had faded, Catelyn looked at Theon again.

"What do you want, Theon?"

"I never asked Ser Rodrik to send you here!"

Catelyn had little affection for Theon.

Although Theon was Ned's ward, he was Balon Greyjoy's son, after all.

Unless something unexpected happened, he would eventually leave Winterfell and return to the Iron Islands to inherit Balon's position.

So she had always treated Theon kindly only in the hope that, once he returned to the Iron Islands, he would be an ally to her son Robb.

Compared with Theon, she found that bastard far more irritating.

So she asked him outright, "Theon, has Jon Snow caused trouble again?"

Theon could tell at once that Catelyn had misunderstood.

But just as he was about to explain, Garon's face suddenly flashed through his mind.

"A coward hiding in the Wolfswood and a bastard—they're birds of a feather."

"Glover, you can forget about marrying Sansa!"

A flash of envy and resentment crossed Theon's eyes, and he made up his mind.

"My lady, do you know Garon Glover, who just arrived at Winterfell?"

When Catelyn nodded, Theon embellished the story of what had happened in the training yard.

"That Garon praised Jon for having the Blood of the Direwolf and deliberately put him on the same level as Robb."

"I tried to confront him, but he ignored and humiliated me."

"Lady Catelyn, how can someone like that marry Sansa?"

Theon had lived at Winterfell for many years. He knew Catelyn's temper well and knew that the person she hated most was Jon Snow.

Sure enough,

Before Theon had even finished speaking, Catelyn's face turned dark.

She hadn't expected the bastard to get mixed up with a powerful bannerman of the North.

What if something happened? What would become of Robb?

Shock and anger flashed in Catelyn's eyes. What she feared most was Jon taking her son Robb's inheritance from him.

"Jon..."

"Garon..."

The two figures tangled together in her mind, making her feel sick.

Catelyn forced down her revulsion and spoke to Theon without expression.

"I understand, Theon."

"Go back for now."

Seeing Catelyn's expression, Theon knew he had achieved his goal.

So he quit while he was ahead, nodded, and turned to leave.

As he turned his back to Catelyn and prepared to go, a satisfied smile crept across his lips.

"With Lady Catelyn standing in his way..."

"Garon, let's see how you'll marry Sansa now!"