Never Forget

Whispers, Lord's Council Chamber.

Lord Gryn, Ser Pell, Ser Mason, Maester Al, Steward Herschel, and Amparo sat together, discussing the "Eastward Expansion" plan to reclaim the old territories.

Spread across the center of the table was a large map of eastern Crackclaw Point.

The plan had been mostly finalized. Lord Gryn pondered for a moment, then spoke: "Reclaiming the old lands is an expedition. Securing supplies is paramount. At intervals... based on half a day's march at normal speed, we'll build stockaded camps to advance step by step."

"Everyone, House Crabb hasn't fought a campaign beyond its borders in over a decade. Our battles have always been near home, where food was easy to resupply and wounded soldiers could be treated promptly."

"Once we leave home, it's different. Enemies surround you at every turn. If supplies aren't secured, we might collapse before a single battle is fought—losing before the war even begins. As commanders, you must always prioritize logistics. The officers of House Crabb must engrave this in their hearts."

The group replied solemnly: "Yes, my lord!"

"Pell, your Survey Corps needs to depart early. Scout the route ahead, and select sites for the camps. Consider terrain and water sources comprehensively. I'll lead the main force out in three days."

Gryn rose, and the others followed suit.

Gryn slowly swept his gaze across each person's eyes. "Reclaim the old lands. Together We Stand!"

"Yes! Reclaim the old lands. Together We Stand!"

"Reclaim the old lands. Together We Stand!!"

"Reclaim the old lands. Together We Stand!!!"

The war council had just ended. The others left the Council Chamber, leaving only Steward Herschel to report on the other affairs of the domain.

There were many matters to attend to, so Steward Herschel could only report them one by one.

Gryn was listening intently when the chamber door suddenly swung open. Surana's tall figure appeared in the doorway.

Surana bowed. "Forgive the intrusion, my lord. I thought the meeting was over."

Gryn's calm gaze shifted to Surana. "Surana, is something urgent?"

"Your cousin, Lady Lyanna Crabb..."

Before Surana could finish, another tall figure appeared at the door.

The newcomer was slender, bearing a striking six- or seven-tenths resemblance to Gryn. This was the cousin Surana had mentioned—Lyanna Crabb.

Gryn had just risen from his chair when the travel-worn Lyanna Crabb threw herself into his arms, sobbing bitterly. Her cries were full of grievance.

Gryn guessed at what might have happened but said nothing. He simply reached a hand to her back, patting gently, silently soothing Lyanna Crabb's emotions.

After a long moment, Surana approached and whispered a few comforting words. She helped Lyanna Crabb sit in a nearby chair and poured her a glass of red wine.

Gryn waited quietly until Lyanna had downed the large glass in a few gulps. Then he said, "Lyanna, tell me. Why are you so sad? I'm here."

Lyanna's eyes glistened with tears. "Ursur wants to divorce me, wuwuwu."

Ursur's full name was Ursur Meka, a merchant from Gulltown in the Vale. Lyanna Crabb had been married to Ursur Meka of Gulltown about four years ago, arranged by Gryn's mother.

Why would a noblewoman like Lyanna marry a merchant?

After the Usurper's War, the Hand of the King and Lord of the Vale, Jon Arryn, never eased his pressure on the Dragon House loyalists of Crackclaw Point. The Vale's powers naturally followed suit.

Gryn's mother struggled to maintain the beleaguered House Crabb. After ten years, weary, she chose a dignified compromise. She pushed Lyanna Crabb, who had just had her first moon's blood, into a marriage alliance with the Vale.

The Vale nobles looked down on the Half-Wildling nobles of Crackclaw Point. Settling for second best, Gryn's mother chose Ursur Meka, a merchant said to maintain good relations with the nobles of Gulltown.

Strictly speaking, this marriage was an insult from the Vale nobles to House Crabb.

The Vale nobles had blockaded and suppressed the nobles of Crackclaw Point for nearly a decade. Their initial fervor had long faded. After ten years of continuous blockade and suppression, plus this insult, it was enough to demonstrate their loyalty to the Hand of the King, Lord Jon Arryn, and they could afford to ease up.

House Crabb had indeed lost face as nobles, but the marriage did ease relations with the Vale. The blockade on House Crabb was lifted. Itinerant merchants began trickling into their lands, bringing much-needed supplies. The Crabb leather could also be sold at fair prices to merchants from all over.

Sacrificing Lyanna Crabb's marriage to buy House Crabb a chance to breathe—the entire affair had long sown deep hatred.

But House Crabb was too weak back then. No one cared much.

"My cousin, why does he want to divorce you?"

"Wuwuwu, I found out later. A noble widow from Runestone has her eye on Ursur! She has no children. If he divorces me, their child born in wedlock can inherit a title."

Hearing this, Gryn's long fingers gripping his knee tightened.

Lyanna continued: "Our marriage—I was already mocked by the people of the Vale. If I'm divorced, how can I go on... I naturally refused. He even laid hands on me. I got really scared, so I slipped away with my maidservant while he was out. Wuwuwu!"

Gryn's eyes narrowed slightly. "It seems the people of the Vale truly hold us in no regard."

Amparo's heart ached for Lyanna. Her voice was furious: "Damn those Vale folk. They should all have their necks bitten off by White Walkers! That worm Ursur thinks that if he divorces Lady Lyanna and marries that shameless widow noble, he'll become a noble of the Vale himself. He thinks House Crabb won't dare retaliate, that we'll just swallow the insult."

Lyanna nodded sadly. Yes, that damned man thought exactly that.

Gryn rubbed his brow and met Lyanna's eyes. "Cousin Lyanna, no one in Whispers has ever forgotten your sacrifice for a single day. You are my family. After you married, your room has been kept exactly as it was, cleaned by someone regularly—as if you never left this home."

As the lord, Gryn made his stance clear. Lyanna's eyes brimmed with tears. "Gryn..."

The whole way back, Lyanna had been deeply uneasy. When she married, Gryn had only been eleven—shy and scrawny.

Gryn's mother had passed away. The Gryn she remembered was blurry, but he had inherited the lordship. Lyanna dared not be optimistic about how he would treat her upon hearing her plight.

Lyanna felt she had disgraced her family and couldn't face Gryn, but in the end, she realized she had nowhere else to go but Whispers.

Only when she thought of Whispers—mocked by outsiders as a Wildling backwater—could Lyanna find any sense of safety.

So Lyanna came, throwing caution to the wind!

Her cousin, whom she hadn't seen in four years, had grown up, his steady demeanor bringing her peace.

Gryn reached out and gently took Lyanna's slender, ice-cold hand. "Lyanna, this will always be your home."

"I want to ask you—if I gave you Usur's head, would it lift your spirits a little?"