Tony and Benjen were still talking in the alley when sothing small brushed against Tony's leg.
He looked down. Six tiny direwolf pups stared up at them.
"Direwolves," Benjen said, voice tight. "They don't belong south of the Wall."
Tony picked one up and scratched behind its ears. "They're Stark sigils, Uncle. What's so frightening about that? This one looks like a little lady."
A kennel master hurried over, out of breath. "Lord Tony, Lord Benjen — those are the Stark children's wolves. Lord Eddard found six of them on the way back from executing the deserter."
Tony's smile faded. "Six?"
"One for each of the trueborn children… and one for Jon Snow."
Benjen and Tony exchanged a look. Wolf and stag. Both dying. It felt like a warning neither of them wanted to say out loud.
"Keep them warm," Tony told the kennel master, then turned to Benjen. "Co on. Let's go see the king."
---
In Pentos, Illyrio was still waiting with Viserys and Daenerys when the ground began to tremble.
A tide of Dothraki riders ca thundering toward them. At their head rode Khal Drogo — nine feet of bronze muscle, long braid swinging against his calves. Beside him rode his bloodriders and one tall, older knight from Westeros.
Illyrio spoke quickly with the khal, gesturing toward Daenerys.
Drogo looked at her for a long mont, then turned his horse and rode away without a word.
Viserys panicked. "He didn't even speak! Is the deal broken? What about my army?"
"Calm yourself, Your Grace," Illyrio said smoothly. "The khal is pleased. The wedding will take place in three days."
Daenerys felt sick. She had hoped the horselord would reject her. Now there was no escape.
---
Back in Winterfell, Robert was in no mood to talk business. He had been enjoying himself with the serving girls when Benjen arrived.
"Benjen!" Robert bellowed. "Whatever it is can wait until tomorrow. Tonight we drink!"
He shoved a horn of wine into Benjen's hands. Tony caught his uncle's eye and gave a small shake of his head. Benjen understood. He drained the horn in one go.
"Good wine!" he shouted, forcing a laugh. "To hell with tomorrow!"
Robert dragged him into the dancing. Tony slipped away and joined Robb, Jon, and Theon.
"You really got knighted by the king himself?" Robb asked, half envious, half proud.
Tony shrugged. "It'll happen for you too. Just be patient. Glory cos when it cos."
Sansa appeared at his side, cheeks pink. "Tony… will you dance with ?"
Theon let out a loud whistle. Tony didn't hesitate. He took Sansa's hand and led her onto the floor. The musicians struck up a slower tune.
They moved together easily. When the song ended, the hall started chanting.
"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"
Tony looked at Sansa. She didn't pull away. He cupped her face and kissed her — slow, deep, and very public.
A piece of bacon flew across the hall and smacked them both in the face.
Arya stood there furious, arm cocked for another throw. "You're disgusting!"
Robb grabbed her and hauled her out of the hall while she kept yelling.
Sansa fled, face burning. Tony just wiped the bacon off his cheek and went back to his drink like nothing had happened.
From the high table, Cersei watched with narrowed eyes.
"So much for a match between Joffrey and Sansa," she muttered. "The girl clearly has her sights set elsewhere. And Arya is too wild to be useful."
Catelyn sipped her wine. "They're still young. Let them choose for themselves."
Cersei gave her a sideways look but said nothing.
Robert had seen the kiss too. He laughed, though there was sothing sad in it.
"Eddard," he said quietly, "your little Arya… she's got the wolf blood in her. Reminds of Lyanna."
Ned's smile didn't reach his eyes. He looked like a man carrying a weight he could never set down.
Whatever secret he was hiding, it was eating at him.
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