Galon Glover stood at the center of the dueling ground, his longsword still stained with fresh blood.
His sharp red eyes slowly swept across the Great Hall, and every knight and sworn sword who t his gaze instinctively looked away.
Not a single one dared et his eyes directly.
The Northern lords who had known him for only a few days remained stunned, still unable to believe what they had just witnessed.
Galon Glover calmly raised his sword and declared:
"It seems the gods still favor ."
The mont his words fell, the entire hall seed to awaken from a dream.
Robert Baratheon's face flushed with excitent.
He suddenly rose from his seat, his eyes blazing with admiration and even a trace of eagerness.
He strode directly from the high platform toward Garon and burst into booming laughter.
"What a Galon Glover!"
"To possess such swordsmanship at your age!"
Robert's eyes widened as he glanced toward ryn Trant's corpse lying in a spreading pool of blood.
"ryn Trant served beside for many years, yet you defeated him with such ease."
"Still, he died in trial by combat."
"That is an honorable death."
Robert extended one hand, and nearby attendants imdiately hurried forward to carry away ryn Trant's body.
Then Robert took a deep breath, turned toward the gathered nobles, and loudly announced the official result of the duel.
"In the na of Robert of House Baratheon, First of His Na, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First n, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm…"
"I hereby declare that Galon Glover, Lord of Deepwood Motte, has won the trial by combat and earned the right to wed Lady Sansa Stark, daughter of Lord Eddard Stark, Warden of the North."
"The old gods and I myself shall witness this marriage!"
Imdiately, deafening cheers erupted throughout the Great Hall.
"Galon Glover!"
"Galon Glover!"
"Galon Glover!"
The thunderous shouting nearly shook the roof beams of Winterfell itself.
At that mont, Garon finally relaxed slightly inwardly.
"From this day onward, Sansa Stark is truly mine."
"No one will stop this marriage now."
Filled with triumph, Garon instinctively looked toward Sansa across the hall.
Sansa covered her mouth shyly, her beautiful blue eyes filled with admiration as they t his gaze.
She had never imagined Garon would truly fight for her in a trial by combat.
To her, this was even more romantic and legendary than the stories of princes and princesses sung by traveling singers.
Ned Stark also revealed a rare smile.
He imdiately instructed servants to prepare fresh wine and food.
After all, the feast was far from over.
Soon afterward, Robert raised his goblet and loudly shouted:
"To Galon Glover!"
The entire hall imdiately echoed him.
"To Galon Glover!"
Garon smiled faintly and raised his own goblet before draining it in one swallow.
Once a servant refilled his cup, he raised it again.
"To the King!"
"To Lord Stark!"
The nobles once more lifted their wine in celebration.
The atmosphere inside the Great Hall beca even livelier than before.
One noble after another stepped forward wishing to drink with Garon, congratulate him, or simply beco acquainted with the young lord who had just slain a Kingsguard knight before the eyes of the King.
anwhile, not a single person cared about ryn Trant anymore.
Such was the nature of trial by combat.
The victor received glory and admiration.
The loser was forgotten imdiately.
Only Joffrey sat in a corner with an ugly expression, staring resentfully at the now-celebrated Garon.
Inwardly, he continuously cursed ryn Trant.
"Useless fool!"
"You couldn't even defeat so Northern lord from Deepwood Motte!"
"You embarrassed in front of everyone!"
Ever since childhood, Joffrey had always been the center of attention wherever he went.
He had never experienced being ignored like this.
Seeking comfort, he turned toward Cersei upon the platform.
Yet what he saw only made him angrier.
Cersei herself was also watching Garon, and there was unmistakable admiration within her eyes.
At the sa ti, Catelyn Stark sat quietly beside them, forcing a smile despite the bitterness in her heart.
She had never imagined Garon would break the deadlock in such a dramatic way.
Now that the gods themselves had judged the matter through trial by combat, even she no longer had any ans to oppose the marriage.
Seeing that neither his mother nor anyone else was paying attention to him, Joffrey finally stomped away furiously and stord out of the hall.
Garon, however, had no ti to care about Joffrey.
Robert himself pulled him to his side and continuously drank with him while introducing him to various nobles.
After seven or eight cups, even Ned Stark began worrying that Garon would collapse from drink and personally stepped forward to rescue him.
Robert, flushed red from wine, had long since abandoned any kingly dignity.
He slung one thick arm over Garon's shoulder and laughed loudly.
"Ned will soon travel south with to King's Landing!"
"And when we arrive, I intend to hold a grand tourney in his honor!"
"With your swordsmanship, you'll surely defeat all those southern knights and take the champion's crown!"
Robert looked directly at him.
"Galon Glover, how about coming south with ?"
Garon smiled politely before declining.
"How could I dare refuse Your Grace's invitation?"
"It is simply that I have only recently inherited Deepwood Motte and cannot leave imdiately."
"If Your Grace permits, perhaps I may travel south after a few months."
Only a few months remained before Robert's death and Ned Stark's downfall.
At such a critical mont, there was no possibility Garon would leave the North for King's Landing.
Robert, however, was not disappointed.
In his mind, there would always be future tourneys and future opportunities to witness Garon's prowess.
He sighed regretfully.
"With your courage, loyalty, and skill, you would be worthy of the Kingsguard itself."
"What a pity…"
At that mont, Jai Lannister approached holding a goblet of wine.
He smirked lazily and interrupted:
"Your Grace, our young victor has only just secured himself a beautiful fiancée."
"Surely you don't intend to make him swear celibacy and join the Kingsguard?"
"If that happened, Lord Stark might truly beco furious."
Ned imdiately shot Jai a displeased look.
Even Robert frowned slightly.
Jai rely shrugged indifferently.
"Your Grace, may I speak with the victor privately for a mont?"
Ned instantly frowned.
"What do you want with him?"
Jai smirked.
"Relax."
"I have no intention of harming the Lord Hand's future son-in-law."
"Especially not one so skilled."
"I simply wish to exchange a few words."
Garon smiled calmly.
"It would be my honor."
Seeing that Garon himself agreed, Robert released him.
Garon nodded respectfully toward both Robert and Ned before following Jai toward a quieter corner of the Great Hall.
Once fewer people surrounded them, Jai finally stopped.
"After tonight, your na will spread throughout the Seven Kingdoms."
"So singers may even compose songs about you."
Then the smile vanished from Jai's face.
"But Galon Glover…"
"The Kingsguard are not all incompetent fools like ryn Trant."
"If I ever discover you insulting the honor of the Kingsguard again, I will not let it pass."
Garon was slightly surprised.
He had not expected Jai to specifically pull him aside rely to say this.
Still, he calmly answered:
"The Kingsguard are sworn protectors of the King."
"I naturally respect them."
"So why would I intentionally insult them?"
Jai stared at him silently for several monts before finally replying:
"It had better remain that way."
After speaking, Jai prepared to leave.
However, Garon had no intention of simply allowing Jai to lecture him and walk away.
"This afternoon, the knight asked a question."
"So now I also wish to ask the knight sothing."
Jai stopped.
"Oh?"
"And what would that be?"
Garon smiled faintly.
"I heard that Ser Jai donned the white cloak and entered the Kingsguard at only fifteen years of age."
"So I wonder…"
"Is the sword in your heart still as sharp as it once was?"
The arrogant smile on Jai's face instantly froze.
He slowly turned back, staring coldly at Garon.
"What exactly do you an by that?"
"Nothing."
Garon smiled calmly, his red eyes strangely captivating beneath the torchlight.
"I rely wonder whether serving beside a group of useless drunkards has dulled your blade."
"Your sword is crying out."
Jai laughed in anger.
Instinctively, his hand reached toward his waist to draw his sword and teach this insolent Northern boy a lesson.
But tonight was a feast.
His sword had been left in his chambers.
Thus, his hand grasped only empty air.
Seeing this, Garon smiled faintly.
"If the Kingslayer wishes to test swords with soday, I will gladly accept."
Having achieved his goal of provoking Jai, Garon no longer continued.
He casually walked past him and returned toward the crowd.
Jai remained standing there with an ugly expression.
anwhile, before Garon had even walked far, Robb, Arya, and the others imdiately surrounded him excitedly.
"Garon!"
"What did the Kingslayer say to you?"
Robb asked curiously.
Garon smiled.
"He simply wished to discuss swordsmanship with ."
The group instantly beca even more excited.
"Really?"
"If you defeat the Kingslayer too, wouldn't that make you the greatest swordsman in all the Seven Kingdoms?"
Arya's gray eyes sparkled with excitent and admiration.
She circled around Garon nonstop while begging him to teach her swordsmanship.
Sansa originally wanted to speak privately with him as well, but Arya's endless chatter prevented her from saying a single word.
Finally, unable to endure it any longer, Sansa grabbed Arya and forcibly dragged her away.
The two sisters imdiately began arguing and wrestling again, leaving Robb shaking his head helplessly.
Garon laughed softly before pulling Robb away to search for Jon Snow.
Along the way, he briefly exchanged glances with Roger, who had already returned.
The subtle look imdiately confird that Roger had completed his task successfully.
Satisfied, Garon finally relaxed completely and threw himself into the remainder of the feast.
Before long, even he beca thoroughly drunk.
And thus, the banquet at Winterfell gradually ca to an end.
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