House Tully Announces the Marriage

Riverrun's gates stood wide open, and its heavy drawbridge had long since been raised. The lord and lady of the North had arrived half a day earlier; now Hoster's children and vassals were at the gates to welcome the others.

Lyanna and Ned followed Brandon, watching him exchange pleasantries with Hoster Tully's children and retainers. After expressing their thanks and a little weariness, they were quickly welcomed into the castle. Following a brief rest, they would attend the welcoming feast prepared especially for them.

Ghost and Lyanna drew more attention than the Stark boys. The white wolf's enormous size frightened almost everyone as pale as paper. Though Lyanna kept her hand on the white wolf's head, no one dared approach...

"So it's true that House Stark likes keeping giant wolves as pets," the crowd whispered.

The eldest daughter, Catelyn Tully, possessed admirable beauty and manners, as well as considerable courage. She actually dared reach out to stroke Ghost.

Momentarily led astray by beauty (not), Ghost sniffed her hand...

Brandon's gaze followed Catelyn with ardent appreciation. He had discovered a great virtue in his betrothed-Northerners admired women with the courage to hold their own.

Brandon's gaze warmed Catelyn's face, and the blush on her cheeks made her look even lovelier. Unfortunately, Lysa, standing behind her, was very unhappy.

Beside the beautiful, noble Catelyn, Lysa almost looked like a serving girl.

Petyr stared at Catelyn almost without blinking.

She had dressed especially for the occasion-a headband of flawless, silvery-white pearls made her red hair look even more vibrant and silky. She wore a beige, high-necked silk gown, her swanlike neck hidden within its high collar like a treasure.

The gown had an extremely narrow waist and a wide, lantern-shaped skirt, making her figure look graceful and enchanting, like a slender willow in the wind.

Brandon Stark was staring just as intently. The last time he had seen Catelyn, she had only been twelve, deliberately imitating adults by keeping a solemn face. He had never imagined she would grow into such a beautiful, captivating woman...

Lysa's attention was entirely on Petyr. Seeing him dazedly attempt to follow Catelyn and Brandon, she hurriedly hauled him back.

"Do you have a death wish?" Lysa lowered her voice. "Look at where we are."

Lyanna and Ned pretended not to notice and followed their brother and Catelyn inside, while Ghost turned his head curiously and kept watching the two tugging at each other.

Black-haired and slender, with a little premature gray faintly visible at his temples. His features were delicate, but his eyes looked somewhat sad.

Aha, wasn't that Littlefinger?

Ghost grew a little excited. A teenage Littlefinger! Looking so young and inexperienced, he still did not really know how to conceal his feelings and intentions. Beside him, Lysa's eyes were practically bulging out.

"Come on, Ghost." Lyanna gently patted Ghost, signaling her to stop watching the spectacle and keep up.

Lyanna had not seen that detestable Robert Baratheon in the crowd, so she politely questioned the nobleman accompanying her.

"May I ask whether Robert Baratheon, Lord of the Stormlands, has arrived?"

The nobleman was rather overwhelmed by her attention and hastily replied, "My lady, Lord Robert arrived two days ago..."

Lyanna found that odd. By all rights, he should have come to welcome his betrothed today. Besides, he and Ned had both been Jon Arryn's wards and were close childhood friends. Surely he should have come to greet Ned, too.

The nobleman hesitated. "Lord Robert took some men out drinking as soon as he arrived. He still hasn't woken up."

That bastard! Lyanna turned indignantly, wanting to complain to her second brother about the unreliable Robert. But when she turned, she discovered Ned sneaking around.

A pouch hung at his waist, and he was secretly taking out dried meat to feed Ghost...

"..."

Narrowing her eyes, Lyanna asked quietly, "Ned, what are you doing?"

Ned instantly withdrew his hand and hurried after their eldest brother as though nothing had happened. Lyanna glared at Ghost and smacked her doggy head. "We're about to eat! What are you snacking for?!"

Ghost thought Lyanna really resembled a parent sometimes, but she was no brat... Mostly, studying just left her too hungry. Yes.

The feast would begin soon.

Honestly, medieval feasts really did not offer much worth eating. Meat was either roasted or boiled into soup, and they were reluctant to use many spices. To Ghost, it tasted dreadful.

But compared with the barren North, the one good thing here was the abundance of produce: many kinds of vegetables and fruit, plenty of poultry, and fish. Lyanna particularly liked pies filled with chunks of assorted fruit, as well as a hodgepodge porridge of barley, chicken, onions, beef, leeks, and all sorts of other things stewed together in a pot.

What a headache. No, thank you.

There was also a bizarre roast swan. When it was brought out, Ghost thought it was alive. On closer inspection, everyone first plucked out its feathers by hand before eating. Apparently, the bird had been roasted whole and then had all its feathers stuck back in, making it look like a whole, living goose...

How neat... my ass. What kind of lunatic dish was this?!

She refused to eat anything so strange, shaking her enormous wolf head from side to side until Lyanna covered her mouth and giggled.

The honey-roasted squab was quite good, though. Pigeon meat was naturally tender, and after roasting, the fat mingled with the honey, salt, cinnamon, and other seasonings, giving off a rich aroma.

Seeing that she liked it, Lyanna and Ned fed Ghost all the roast squab on the long table.

At their table sat a young knight who wore full armor even while eating. He kept eyeing Ghost covetously, until she nearly shrank beneath Lyanna's feet.

Lyanna noticed and politely asked, "May I ask who you are?"

The knight had naturally curly black hair and thick, blade-like eyebrows. His eyes were resolute, and one hand always hovered over the sword at his waist. Fully armed, he looked entirely out of place among the nobles putting on airs and indulging themselves.

He raised his wine cup to Lyanna. "Brynden Tully sends his greetings, lovely Lady Lyanna Stark."

Ned's eyes lit up, and he pushed right over. "You're Brynden Tully? Lord Blackfish, the Knight of the Bloody Gate who won the War of the Ninepenny Kings for House Tully? You're so young!"

"Hahaha, I am indeed Brynden the Blackfish. But I'm no lord." Laughing heartily, Blackfish clinked cups with the two Stark children and drained two cups in succession.

Ned was still excited. "Brandon will be so happy to meet you. Huh, where's my eldest brother?" He had been here just a moment ago.

"There, drinking over there." Lyanna pointed toward the table at the head of the hall.

Brandon was constantly proposing toasts, laughing loudly and drinking heavily. Rickard and Lord Hoster were drinking too, and the nobles crowded around, making Brandon drink cup after cup.

Brynden the Blackfish tore off a chicken leg, eager to feed it to Ghost. "Never mind them. What's this adorable big dog called?"

Ghost was angry. She was a wolf, not a dog. Still, food could not be wasted. With a growl, she clamped down on the chicken leg and tore at it savagely, glaring fiercely at Blackfish all the while.

Blackfish was not frightened in the slightest. He held on to the chicken leg and played tug-of-war with Ghost, laughing even more happily. Lyanna did not know whether to laugh or cry. "Lord Blackfish, stop teasing Ghost."

Blackfish seemed very fond of Ghost, utterly unafraid of her enormous size and menacing wolf fangs. He even tried to reach out and pet Ghost. "It must be wonderful to have a wolf companion like this."

Ghost snapped fiercely, frightening Blackfish into pulling back his hand.

Lyanna was about to say something else when Hoster Tully suddenly extended his hand and pressed it downward from the head table, calling, "Quiet, everyone, quiet down."

The noisy guests stopped talking, and everyone looked at the Lord of Riverrun.

Hoster Tully nodded in satisfaction, rose, and raised his wine cup. "Today is a momentous day. I, Hoster Tully, welcome the King in the North, Rickard Stark, to Riverrun on behalf of all the people of the Riverlands."

Hoster held out his hand to his eldest daughter, asking her to stand beside him. "My eldest daughter, the Red Rose of Riverrun, will enter into a joyous betrothal with Brandon Stark of the North. With the Seven as their witnesses, they will become a loving husband and wife."

Thunderous cheers and applause erupted throughout the hall. Even Lyanna and Ned happily banged their cups on the long table.

Lord Rickard smiled broadly and clinked cups with Hoster. Hoster drained his wine and gestured to the crowd. "Over the coming week, Riverrun will host a grand tourney. I hope you all enjoy yourselves to the fullest!"