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Patting her daughter's hand, Lady Catelyn looked pleased. "You did very well, my Sansa. I'm proud of you."
"It was what I should have done."
Looking at her well-behaved daughter, Lady Catelyn stroked her hair and teased her in high spirits, "Yes, it was also your duty, Miss Stark."
"Mother~"
As mother and daughter spoke, the study door was suddenly pushed open. Little Rickon came trotting in, followed by a guard wearing an apologetic expression.
Though Rickon Stark had inherited the Tully features in appearance, his personality was filled with a wildness that sometimes left even Lady Catelyn at a loss with her youngest son.
At least her younger daughter, who carried Wolf Blood, was still afraid of Septa Mordane's bath brush...
She said sternly, "Rickon, knocking and waiting for permission is the most basic courtesy."
Rickon halted, scratching at his unruly auburn hair that he refused to have cut. "Sorry, I forgot just now..."
This time, Lady Catelyn did not intend to let her ever-reckless youngest son off so easily. Sansa spoke up then, "Little Rickon, you didn't knock before entering my room yesterday either."
Rickon turned his gaze and looked up at the sister much taller than himself, his tone somewhat strange. "Sister, but I already apologized to you last night..."
As he spoke, his voice suddenly stopped. He had noticed his mother's terrifying gaze.
Sansa could not help growing angry. "But I never forgave you."
"But I..."
Lady Catelyn interrupted sternly, "Rickon Stark, I will have the maidservant take away your toys and keep them for two... hm, three days."
Then she reminded him, "If you do it again, the period of safekeeping will be measured in months. Do you understand?"
The little wolves of Winterfell did not