By the next morning, the sky over Winterfell had turned leaden gray. Low clouds pressed down on the castle's spires, as though another heavy snowfall might begin at any moment.
When Viserys woke, Rhaenys was still asleep in his arms, her breathing steady and her brow relaxed. He did not disturb her, gently slipping out the arm pinned beneath her before getting up, dressing, and opening the door to leave.
After Jeyne helped him wash, Viserys prepared to find Robb and ask to see Winterfell's underground crypt. After all, he would not be staying in Winterfell much longer, so he had to make the most of his time.
But as soon as Viserys left the Tower where his guest chamber lay, he found Robb already waiting in the corridor outside.
Robb had changed into a thick, dark gray fur coat, with a longsword hanging at his waist. Of course, it was only an ordinary sword with a fairly sharp edge. Ice, the Valyrian steel greatsword passed down through generations of House Stark, was still in Viserys's treasury.
Although Robb's complexion looked a little better than it had the night before, dark bluish circles still lingered beneath his eyes. Clearly, he had not slept well.
When Robb saw Viserys emerge, he bowed respectfully, then dispensed with any unnecessary pleasantries.
"Your Grace, the crypt of House Stark lies near the foundations of the First Keep. That is also the oldest part of Winterfell," Robb said respectfully as he turned to lead the way. "The entrance is rather hard to find. I will take you there."
Viserys followed Robb through Winterfell's somewhat labyrinthine courtyards and stone corridors.
Winterfell was already bustling that morning. Servants worked in the corners with buckets and brooms, while several guards who had just come on duty patrolled the