Game of Thrones: The Wolf of Deepwood Motte Chapter 12 CHAPTER 12

After Ned Stark and Catelyn left the Great Hall, the atmosphere imdiately relaxed. The invisible pressure hanging over everyone during dinner quietly dissipated, and even the servants moving around the hall seed to breathe easier. Arya, who had been unusually quiet throughout the al, finally let out a sigh of relief. All through dinner, she had been worried that her mother would suddenly question her about sneaking away from needlework lessons earlier in the day, which had made it difficult for her to enjoy her food properly.

Rickon, however, cared little for such matters. The youngest Stark imdiately ran excitedly toward Robb the mont their parents departed.

"Robb, play knights with !"

Robb laughed helplessly and rubbed Rickon's hair affectionately before agreeing. Seeing this scene, Garon could not help smiling faintly. Watching the Stark siblings interact with one another so naturally made Winterfell feel unexpectedly warm despite the cold northern stone walls.

As his gaze casually swept across the hall, he suddenly t Theon Greyjoy's eyes.

Almost instantly, Garon rembered the scene shown to him earlier by the Three-Eyed Raven. The mory of Theon secretly approaching Catelyn and speaking against him imdiately resurfaced within his mind.

A dangerous glint quietly appeared in Garon's eyes.

Theon's heart skipped violently.

Startled by that sudden gaze, he instinctively looked away, an inexplicable unease spreading through his chest.

"What does that look an?"

"Did he sohow discover I spoke to Lady Catelyn?"

"No… impossible."

"At the ti, only Lady Catelyn and I were there."

Yet despite trying to reassure himself, Theon's guilty conscience prevented him from remaining calm. He no longer dared linger in the hall under Garon's gaze. After forcing himself to greet Robb casually, he quickly turned and left the hall without even looking back.

Jon Snow quietly watched the entire scene from nearby.

He had already noticed earlier in the day that the relationship between Garon and Theon had beco extrely tense. Now, seeing Theon leave almost as if fleeing, Jon instinctively glanced toward Garon again.

What he saw was a faint, aningful smile lingering on Garon's lips.

Just as Jon was about to ask about it, Sansa suddenly gathered her courage and softly called out, "Garon…"

The mont he heard her voice, the coldness lingering in Garon's eyes vanished completely. He turned toward Sansa with a much gentler expression.

"Lady Sansa, is there sothing you need?"

Sansa hesitated briefly before speaking.

"Could you play a few gas of Westerosi chess with ?"

Then, as though worried he might refuse, she quickly added, "You invented the ga, so you should understand it better than anyone."

"Robb's skill is far too poor. I want to play against soone stronger."

As soon as the words left her mouth, Sansa seed to realize they sounded overly confident. Still, she stubbornly continued.

"I spent the entire day playing against Jeyne and Beth, and neither of them could defeat ."

"If even you can't beat , then perhaps Westerosi chess isn't all that interesting after all."

Hearing this, Garon raised an eyebrow slightly.

"So Lady Sansa wants to play seriously?"

Sansa lifted her chin proudly and nodded without hesitation.

Although she had only learned the ga that day, defeating Robb repeatedly had already given her considerable confidence. In her mind, even if Garon invented the ga himself, he could not possibly be overwhelmingly stronger than her.

Seeing how confident she appeared, Garon naturally had no reason to refuse.

Back in his previous life, he had spent quite so ti studying chess as a hobby. While he certainly would not dare call himself a master among true professionals, against people of Westeros who had only learned the ga today, he possessed an absolutely crushing advantage.

At least for now.

Sansa quickly retrieved the wooden chess box from the corner of the hall and returned to the table. Garon calmly sat opposite her and began arranging the pieces carefully upon the board.

Even while setting up the ga, he could not resist asking one final ti with a faint smile,

"Are you truly certain you want to play at full strength?"

Sansa rely gave a proud hum in response, clearly unconvinced that Garon could overwhelm her.

Still, out of caution, she deliberately chose the white pieces to gain the advantage of moving first.

As the ga began, even Rickon and Robb unconsciously quieted down. Jon, Arya, and Bran also gathered around the table with interest, curiously watching the match unfold.

Sansa confidently advanced her pawn to e4.

Without even pausing to think, Garon calmly responded by advancing his pawn to c5.

If there had been a true chess player from Garon's previous world present, they would imdiately have recognized the opening.

The Sicilian Defense.

The ga quickly intensified.

At first, Sansa still managed to maintain herself well enough. She carefully responded to each move while trying to preserve control of the center.

However, the balance of the ga gradually tilted more and more toward Garon.

Using the flexible variations of the Sicilian Defense, he steadily dismantled Sansa's formation piece by piece. Every attempt she made to counterattack was effortlessly neutralized before it could truly beco threatening.

Soon afterward, Garon launched a fierce offensive directly toward her king.

Sansa's expression gradually changed.

At first, she rely frowned in concentration.

Then her brows tightened further and further as she desperately searched for a way to recover the situation.

Unfortunately, no matter how hard she thought, she could only watch helplessly as her pieces were exchanged one after another under Garon's relentless pressure.

By the ti her bishop was captured, the outco of the match had already been decided.

Her king no longer possessed any safe squares to retreat toward.

Even Jon, who barely understood the rules of Westerosi chess yet, could already tell that Sansa had been thoroughly overwheld.

Sansa stared silently at the board.

Her blue eyes had already beco slightly red.

She simply could not believe she had been defeated so completely without any ability to resist.

Worse still, she had confidently provoked Garon before the match even began.

Recalling her earlier boastful words now made Sansa feel so embarrassed she wished she could hide beneath Winterfell itself.

anwhile, Robb stood nearby laughing loudly with unconcealed delight.

Earlier that day, he himself had been rcilessly crushed by Sansa over and over again. Seeing her now experience exactly the sa suffering instantly filled him with joy.

Jon quickly nudged Robb with his elbow, signaling him not to laugh so openly after noticing Sansa's reddened eyes.

At the sa ti, Garon shot Robb a helpless look before turning back toward Sansa.

"Lady Sansa," he said sincerely, "the fact that you lasted this long honestly surprised ."

Seeing that she still remained silent, Garon continued naturally,

"For most people, rely morizing the rules on the first day is already impressive."

"Soone slightly more talented, like Robb, can barely manage proper gas afterward."

"But for you to withstand my offense for this long after learning only today…"

Garon smiled faintly.

"That truly proves your intelligence."

"After all, I am the creator of Westerosi chess."

These words finally caused Sansa's mood to improve slightly.

She blinked her beautiful blue eyes and asked softly,

"Really?"

At that mont, Garon found himself briefly stunned.

Under the candlelight, Sansa's delicate face appeared exceptionally beautiful. Her auburn hair reflected the warm glow of the hall, and the slight redness lingering around her eyes unexpectedly made her seem even more charming.

For a brief instant, Garon completely lost his train of thought.

Only after hearing Robb and Jon laughing knowingly nearby did he finally recover himself.

Feigning composure, Garon imdiately answered,

"Of course."

"I swear it by the old gods."

As he spoke, his gaze unconsciously t Sansa's once more.

This ti, however, his eyes carried a much more obvious intensity.

Unable to endure such a direct stare, Sansa quickly lowered her head and turned away shyly.

Arya, naturally delighted by any opportunity to watch drama unfold, imdiately burst into laughter.

"Look at Sansa!"

"She's blushing again!"

Even Rickon, who had been distracted monts earlier, curiously turned his head toward his older sister.

Imdiately, Sansa shot Arya an angry glare.

If Garon had not still been present, and if she were not worried about damaging her ladylike image before him, she would definitely have chased Arya across the hall already.

Fortunately for her, the old wet nurse entered the hall at exactly that mont and unknowingly rescued her.

"Lady Sansa," the wet nurse said gently, "Lady Catelyn wishes to see you."

Already overwheld by embarrassnt, Sansa naturally did not dare remain any longer. After softly bidding Garon goodnight, she hurried from the hall almost as though fleeing.

Watching her escape in panic only made Arya laugh even harder.

"Lady Arya," the wet nurse scolded gently while leading a sleepy Rickon by the hand, "we still have guests present. A proper lady should behave more gracefully."

Then she turned toward the others.

"Lord Robb, I'll take Rickon back first."

"And Bran should also return early and rest."

Robb and Bran obediently nodded.

After the wet nurse finally departed with Rickon and Bran, Garon slowly gathered the Westerosi chess pieces one by one and carefully returned them to the wooden box.

Once finished, he handed the box toward Robb.

"Please return this to Lady Sansa for ."

"It's getting late. I plan to spend so ti praying in the godswood before resting."

Robb accepted the chess box while Jon imdiately offered kindly,

"Do you want to accompany you?"

Garon smiled and shook his head.

"There's no need to trouble yourself, Jon. You should rest early as well."

After bidding farewell to Robb and Jon once more, Garon finally turned and left the Great Hall alone.

Once outside, he quietly adjusted his direction before walking steadily toward Winterfell's godswood.