Sansa's Affection

Winterfell, the sewing room.

Garon stood behind Robb, quietly watching his chess match with Sansa.

At this moment, it was Robb's turn to move.

His pieces had been reduced to only his king, cornered by Sansa's two bishops.

Robb frowned in deep thought, trying to find a glimmer of hope for his king, or at the very least, force a draw.

But—

Robb was doomed to lose!

Garon concluded in his mind, his gaze falling on the composed Sansa with a hint of surprise in his eyes.

He had not expected Sansa to have such a high talent for Westeros Chess.

In just a few short games, she had completely mastered Robb's playing style.

Now that she had fulfilled the prerequisites for a checkmate with two bishops, the space for Robb's king would only continue to shrink.

Unless Sansa intentionally threw the game or forced a draw, Robb had no way out.

Sure enough, after Robb carefully moved his king one square to the right, Sansa immediately moved her bishop with a triumphant air.

"Checkmate!"

"Robb, you've lost again!"

Robb sat there blankly, staring at the chessboard with lifeless eyes.

He was currently so demoralized by Sansa that he was beginning to doubt his own life.

"It makes no sense. Why is it that no matter how I play, I'm always left with just my king in the end?"

Hearing this, Garon was momentarily speechless and shook his head slightly.

Robb's playstyle was bold and aggressive, always favoring offense without considering defense.

Sansa had simply exploited this habit to trade off Robb's pieces one by one.

Seeing that his king had nowhere left to go, Robb could only tip the king piece over, signaling his resignation.

Sansa immediately broke into a joyful smile.

"Robb, let's play another game."

Seeing Robb concede, she hurriedly began resetting the pieces, eager to continue playing.

Clearly, she was now completely immersed in the charm of Westeros Chess.

As she became more familiar with the game, Sansa increasingly agreed with Garon's words that while the rules were simple, the strategic details of the game were vast.

To checkmate an opponent, one had to have meticulous thinking and advance step by step.

However, compared to Sansa's enthusiasm, Robb was losing interest.

He shook his head and said powerlessly, "No more, I'm done."

He had already lost several games in a row to Sansa; continuing to play would only result in more losses.

Rather than seeking out abuse, he would rather go do something else.

"Eh?"

"While Septa Mordane is away, play one more game, Robb."

Arya had little interest in Westeros Chess; compared to the refinement of board games, she preferred wielding swords and spears.

So, after the first game began, she had seized the opportunity to sneak out again.

Septa Mordane was furious, but mindful of Lady Catelyn's instructions, she had no choice but to go out and search for her, and she had yet to return.

Sansa knew that once Septa Mordane returned, she certainly wouldn't be able to play in peace.

Therefore, she wasn't about to let Robb leave so easily.

But Robb had already stood up, making an excuse: "Father wants me to show Garon around Winterfell; how could I have time to keep playing with you?"

"Right, Garon?"

After speaking, he turned his head to look at Garon behind him, giving him a wink.

Garon understood and smiled, "That's right, Lord Ned did ask Robb to show me around Winterfell."

"But Lady Sansa need not be disappointed; I am sure Lady Jeyne and Lady Beth would be happy to take your place."

Garon looked behind Sansa and smiled at Beth and the other girl.

Beth Cassel and Jeyne Poole, who had been watching from the sidelines, were already itching to play, and at this, they nodded repeatedly.

Sansa turned to look at her companions, noticed their eager expressions, and after a moment of thought, she agreed.

"Then, Lady Sansa, I wish you all a pleasant game!"

Seeing this, Garon bid the three of them farewell, preparing to head out with Robb.

Just as he turned to leave, however, Sansa suddenly called out to him, "Lord Garon!"

Garon looked back at Sansa in confusion, "Lady Sansa, is there anything else?"

Sansa shook her head, hesitated for a long moment, and then whispered shyly, "I really like the gift you gave me!"

Garon gazed at the bashful Sansa, his heart skipping a beat.

"I'm glad you like it; that way, my efforts were not in vain."

His words carried a double meaning, and the warmth in his eyes made Sansa turn her head away in shyness, avoiding his gaze.

Robb and the others watching from the side immediately broke into knowing, aunt-like smiles.

A moment later, Garon gave a slight bow and walked out of the sewing room with Robb.

"Where to next, Robb?"

Garon looked at Robb, asking him in high spirits.

Robb was just about to answer with a quip when he heard an argument erupting inside the sewing room.

It turned out that Jeyne Poole and Beth Cassel were fighting over who would get to play Westeros Chess with Sansa first.

"I'm next."

"No, let me go first!"

"Beth, you can't even beat Robb, so you should let me go first."

"Nonsense, you're the one who can't beat Robb..."

Robb's face immediately soured; he had a premonition that the news of him being unable to beat Sansa at chess would soon spread throughout all of Winterfell.

Garon wore a strange smile, clearly having realized the same thing.

"Good luck, Robb!"

Robb shot Garon a speechless glance and said, "This trouble is all your doing, anyway."

"By the way, since you invented Westeros Chess, you must have some winning strategies, right?"

Garon nodded; although his chess skills in his past life were only average, they were more than enough to be considered legendary in this era.

"Teach me, you must teach me how to defeat Sansa."

Robb's eyes burned with eagerness as he leaned in close to Garon and whispered, "If you teach me how to beat Sansa, I'll take you to a great place!"

Garon was taken aback and asked in confusion, "What kind of great place?"

Robb smiled mysteriously but did not answer.

Garon's curiosity was instantly piqued, and he replied, "It's a deal!"

"It's a deal."

Robb nodded and laughed, "Let's go, I'll take you to see your bedroom first."

"If anything is missing, I can have the servants replenish it in time."

He turned to lead the way, and Garon followed closely behind.

The two chatted as they walked toward the guest quarters in the inner keep.

The closer they got to the guest rooms, the more servants Garon saw, all clearly busy preparing for the arrival of the King's party.

After walking for about ten minutes, they finally arrived at the bedroom Robb had arranged for Garon.

But just as they reached the door, Garon heard a mature, melodious female voice coming from the room next door.

"Maester Luwin, Lord Tyrion's room needs a few more candles."

"I have heard that he has a habit of staying up late to read..."

The moment Robb heard the voice, he realized who was in the room next door.

He hurriedly led Garon to the adjacent room and called out, "Mother!"

"Robb?"

Catelyn was startled, turning to see her son.

She was just about to ask why Robb was there when she saw a tall figure appear behind him.

Catelyn instantly realized who the figure was, and her expression turned cold.

As expected.

Robb smiled and introduced him to Catelyn, "Mother, this is Garon Glover."

"Garon, this is my mother, and this is Maester Luwin."

As soon as Garon stepped into the room, he noticed Lady Catelyn standing by the bed and Maester Luwin by the wall.

Not daring to be negligent, he quickly bowed, "Good day, my lady, Maester Luwin!"

Maester Luwin's face was gentle as he replied, "Good day, Lord Garon, you must be tired from your journey."

Compared to Maester Luwin's warmth, Catelyn stared coldly at Garon without saying a word.

The words Theon had spoken flashed through her mind, and a flicker of disgust appeared in her eyes.

The atmosphere in the room instantly dropped to freezing.