"We have five children," Catelyn said. "Rickon is still too young, and misfortune has befallen Bran."
"I have six," Eddard corrected her.
Catelyn felt all the blood in her body freeze. She understood that her husband still thought of that unknown woman, a ghost.
That child was Jon Snow. He was Eddard's son, not Catelyn's.
"You need not concern yourself with Jon. I have already decided. He will establish a branch of House Stark, like the Karstarks. He is the king's squire now, and probably will not return to the North in the future. The Crownlands or the Narrow Sea-King Gendry is generous," Eddard reassured his wife.
Catelyn was secretly pleased. If that were so, Jon would not one day compete with her own sons and daughters for the right to inherit Winterfell.
Like the Karstarks and Golden Eagle of Gulltown, a branch that split away became a new line.
"We can no longer give our daughter the highest honor. Now we can only settle for the next best thing," Catelyn proposed.
A Stark marriage alliance in the North could secure their internal position; one in the south could expand their influence there.
"A crown is not merely an honor," Eddard said. "But I do want to find suitable marriages for the children. They are no longer so young. When my father sent me to the Eyrie to be fostered, I was only eight."
Eddard was not a typical Stark either. He had yet to select marriage prospects for his children in the North, while his wife Catelyn was intent on marrying them into the houses of southern lords.
"Robb, Sansa, and Arya." Catelyn named the three children, still thinking of advantageous marriages. "Robb needs to marry a maiden from a great noble house. For Sansa and Arya, I will