Instigation

Garon was completely unaware of Sansa's naive thoughts.

However, he was well aware of Robb's eager intentions.

When he heard that Westeros Chess could test one's ability to command, Robb's eyes lit up, as if he were ready to devour the board in front of him.

Robb had no interest in the Tile Chess played by girls and weak southern nobles.

But if it were the strategic version of Westeros Chess, he would be more obsessed with it than anyone else.

Taking advantage of a pause in Garon's speech, Robb asked excitedly, "Garon, what are the rules of the game?"

"And how are these pieces moved?"

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

As Robb spoke, he reached out to touch the pieces.

But he was blocked by Sansa.

"Robb, what are you doing?"

"This is a gift for me, how can you just touch it!"

Sansa stared at Robb angrily.

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

Seeing this, Garon smiled inwardly.

He knew that the gift he had given was still satisfying to both Sansa and everyone else present.

As expected, a good product always needs the right packaging.

Seeing the two at a stalemate, Garon stepped in to mediate: "Westeros Chess requires two people to play."

"I will teach you the introductory rules now."

"Lady Sansa, you can listen to me while trying to play a game with Robb."

Seeing that neither had any objections, Garon cleared his throat softly and introduced the pieces on the board to everyone present.

"Westeros Chess has a total of thirty-two pieces, sixteen for each player."

"Eight of these pieces are soldiers, placed in the second-to-last row."

"The one wearing the crown is the King; only by checkmating the opponent's King does the game end..."

Garon's explanation was simple and clear, and even Septa Mordane, who knew nothing about board games, listened with great fascination.

Not to mention Sansa and Robb.

The two listened to Garon explain the rules while beginning to set up the board to play against each other.

Soon, Sansa and Robb were so immersed in Westeros Chess that they couldn't pull themselves away.

And just as Garon was teaching Sansa and the others how to play Westeros Chess, on the other side, in the guest rooms of the main keep.

Catelyn, having just returned from the great hall, was inspecting the bedrooms prepared for the King and Queen, accompanied by Maester Luwin.

She gestured, directing the servants to arrange the items.

"Put more candles here."

"And on the table by the wall, we need some fresh flowers."

After the servants went to carry out her orders, Catelyn frowned and looked at the thin Maester Luwin.

"Maester Luwin, prepare more fine wine for when the King arrives."

"Ned said that King Robert is a heavy drinker."

Maester Luwin, draped in his grey robes, replied: "My Lady, I have already had eight barrels of ale brought up from the cellar."

"Later, I will have them bring up two more."

"After all, I have heard that Lord Tyrion also has a habit of drinking through the night."

Hearing this, an image of a lecherous dwarf flashed through Catelyn's mind, and she immediately rubbed her temples.

"How could I have forgotten him!"

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

"Take me there to see it."

Maester Luwin nodded, turned, and walked out the door, leading Catelyn toward the other side of the corridor.

"Considering Lord Tyrion's height, I have placed his bedroom on the ground floor..."

As they walked, Luwin introduced the location of Tyrion's bedroom to Catelyn.

Catelyn listened absentmindedly, her mind occasionally drifting back to Ned's earlier decision.

The betrothal between Sansa and Glover was like a thorn about to pierce her heart.

Maester Luwin, leading the way ahead, also noticed Catelyn's distraction; he knew she must be troubled by Sansa's engagement, and he understood it well.

Maester Luwin sighed softly, said nothing more, and continued to lead the way in silence.

By the time the two reached the end of the corridor and prepared to descend the stone steps, Theon Greyjoy suddenly popped out from around the corner, nearly colliding with Maester Luwin.

"Theon?"

"Why are you here?"

Regaining her composure, Catelyn looked at Theon with some confusion and asked, "Aren't you supposed to be at the training yard with Bran, helping him with his archery?"

Theon naturally wouldn't mention the embarrassing scene he had just caused at the training yard.

He spoke vaguely, "My lady, it was Ser Rodrik who sent me."

"He said you were short-handed and asked me to come and assist you."

Catelyn stared at Theon, a flicker of suspicion crossing her mind.

She knew that after leaving the great hall earlier that morning, she hadn't seen Ser Rodrik at all, let alone asked him to send Theon to help her.

A thought stirred in Catelyn's mind, and she realized that Theon must have had a reason for seeking her out.

Thinking of a certain person she detested, she made an excuse to dismiss Maester Luwin.

"Maester Luwin, please go to Lord Tyrion's bedchamber and wait for me."

"I will join you shortly."

Maester Luwin nodded calmly, his gaze sweeping past Theon before he headed straight down the stone steps.

Once the sound of Maester Luwin's footsteps faded away, Catelyn turned her attention back to Theon.

"What do you want with me, Theon?"

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

Catelyn's feelings toward Theon were indifferent at best.

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

If all went as expected, he would eventually leave Winterfell and return to the Iron Islands to succeed Balon.

Therefore, she had always treated Theon well, hoping only that once he returned to the Iron Islands, he might look out for her son, Robb.

Compared to Theon, that bastard was the one who truly annoyed her.

Thus, she went straight to the point: "Theon, has Jon Snow caused trouble again?"

The moment Theon heard this, he knew Catelyn had misunderstood.

But just as he was about to explain, the image of Garon flashed through his mind.

"A coward hiding in the Wolfswood and a bastard—they are two of a kind."

"Glover, you want to marry Sansa? Keep dreaming!"

A flash of jealousy and hatred crossed Theon's eyes, and he made a decision.

"My lady, are you aware of Garon Glover, who just arrived at Winterfell?"

Seeing Catelyn nod, Theon embellished the events that had taken place at the training yard.

"That Garon flattered Jon, claiming he possessed the Blood of the Direwolf, and even deliberately compared Jon to Robb."

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

"Lady Catelyn, how could a man like that be allowed to marry Sansa?"

Having lived in Winterfell for many years, Theon knew Catelyn's temperament well and knew that the person she hated most was Jon Snow.

Sure enough.

Before Theon had even finished speaking, Catelyn's expression turned dark and ugly.

She had not expected the bastard to be colluding with a powerful vassal of The North.

If something were to happen, what would become of Robb?

A mix of shock and anger flashed in Catelyn's eyes; her greatest fear was that Jon would steal the inheritance rights from her son, Robb.

"Jon..."

"Garon..."

The two figures intertwined in her mind, making Catelyn feel nauseated.

Forcing down the disgust in her heart, she said to Theon with an expressionless face.

"I understand, Theon."

"You may go now!"

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

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

And the moment he turned his back to Catelyn, preparing to walk away, a satisfied smile couldn't help but curl his lips.

"With Lady Catelyn's interference..."

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