"Joel?"
Garon was slightly startled, and the image of Swiftfoot Joel, who had escaped from him and Ser Rodrik four days earlier, imdiately surfaced in his mind.
He lowered his head slightly and muttered to himself.
"I didn't expect him to survive long enough to reach Deepwood Motte."
"I thought he had already died sowhere in the Wolfswood."
Hearing Garon's murmur, Robert looked puzzled.
"Garon, you know him?"
Garon looked up and explained calmly, "Yes. The night before I returned from Winterfell, Ser Rodrik and I captured a suspicious man believed to be one of Theon's accomplices."
"It was him."
Robert's eyes instantly brightened, and he laughed loudly.
"Then this truly is a blessing from the old gods!"
"Tomorrow, I'll personally escort him back to Winterfell and hand him over to Lord Ned for judgnt."
But Garon shook his head and stopped him.
"Uncle Robert, there's no need to rush."
"Lock him up for several days first and don't give him any food."
"Once hunger wears down his spirit, I'll interrogate him personally."
Robert looked sowhat confused.
Still, he knew Garon always had his own plans, so after thinking briefly, he nodded.
"Alright, I understand."
Seeing Robert agree, Garon suddenly rembered another matter.
"Uncle Robert, before I left Winterfell, Lord Ned instructed to send one hundred archers to reinforce Moat Cailin."
"Tomorrow morning, choose one hundred n from the clan and let…"
Several nas flashed through Garon's mind before a tall figure gradually settled in his thoughts.
"Let Newgate lead them."
But Robert frowned slightly in confusion.
"Garon, why does Lord Ned suddenly want troops stationed at Moat Cailin?"
"Could it be…"
Garon did not answer imdiately.
Instead, he silently considered how best to explain the situation to Robert.
He slowly poured himself another cup of wine, but just as he raised it toward his lips, hurried footsteps sounded from outside the hall.
Robert's wife, Sybell Locke, walked in while directing servants carrying steaming dishes of food.
Behind her followed Laurence, Gavin, and a little girl toddling along with short legs, Anya Glover.
"Garon, you're secretly drinking again?"
"Have I not told you many tis already that you're still too young for wine?"
The mont Sybell saw the wine cup in Garon's hand, she imdiately walked over with an annoyed expression.
Seeing his mother snatch away Garon's wine cup once again, little Anya instantly burst into giggles behind her.
"Brother Garon isn't obedient again, so Mother's scolding him!"
"Brother Garon is a bad child… ah!"
Before she could finish, Garon suddenly bent down and lifted Anya high into the air.
The little girl imdiately let out a sharp squeal.
However, she quickly realized Garon was rely playing with her and imdiately began kicking excitedly at his shoulder while laughing loudly, pretending she was riding a horse.
A mont later, Garon smiled and gently placed the still-excited Anya back onto the floor.
Then he looked helplessly at Sybell and softly complained.
"Aunt Sybell, I only drank one cup."
"When I was in Winterfell, I drank far more than this because of all the King's toasts…"
Sybell imdiately narrowed her eyes and glared at him.
Garon instantly stopped talking.
Garon's mother had died giving birth to him, and because of that, the original Garon had grown up without maternal affection.
It was only after Sybell Locke married into House Glover that she voluntarily took over the role of caring for him like a true mother.
In the original Garon's mories, Sybell was no different from his real mother.
After transmigrating into this world, Garon had naturally inherited those feelings as well and respected Sybell deeply.
As a result, he never argued with her over small matters.
Seeing Garon obediently fall silent, Sybell finally snorted softly.
"Winterfell is Winterfell, and this is Deepwood Motte."
"The King isn't here to spoil you, so he can't interfere with disciplining you."
Robert helplessly tried to smooth things over.
"It's only one cup of wine. When Galbart and I were Garon's age, we secretly stole far more than that."
Sybell imdiately shot Robert an annoyed glare.
Robert awkwardly laughed and instantly stopped defending Garon, causing Laurence standing nearby to grin.
Fortunately, the servants had already finished laying out the food.
"Let's eat first."
Garon quickly spoke up, and everyone finally took their seats around the dining table.
Sybell looked at the dust still clinging to Garon's face and imdiately began nagging again.
"Where is Chief Steward Mormont?"
"Why didn't he arrange for servants to help you wash up first?"
"Look at yourself now. You don't even resemble a proper noble lord."
"You weren't behaving like this while staying in Winterfell, were you?"
Sybell continued talking endlessly, just like every caring mother in the world.
After returning to Deepwood Motte, Garon felt far more relaxed than he had in Winterfell and casually replied.
"Aunt Sybell, I asked Chief Steward Mormont to arrange Jon's room first."
"Besides, I've spent four straight days traveling through the Wolfswood. If I washed up first, I'd probably fall asleep imdiately afterward."
"Let's eat first."
Although Garon had already transmigrated into Westeros for half a year and gradually adapted to noble life, whenever he truly relaxed, traces of his personality from his previous life would still unconsciously erge.
Hearing this, Sybell could only helplessly allow him to do as he pleased.
The family quietly sat around the dining table and began eating dinner together.
During the al, Robert suddenly rembered their earlier discussion and asked again.
"Garon, you still haven't explained why Lord Ned suddenly wants archers stationed at Moat Cailin."
Garon swallowed the bread in his mouth before answering thoughtfully.
"Lord Ned is simply preparing for the worst."
"Hm?"
Seeing Robert still confused, Garon directly explained further.
"Because of Bran's fall from the tower, the relationship between Lord Ned and House Lannister has beco extrely tense."
"At one point, Lord Ned even ordered to arrest the Kingslayer."
Recalling the situation that night, Garon calmly continued.
"I suspect Lord Ned fears that House Lannister may retaliate against the North with military force."
"After all, Lord Tywin values the honor of House Lannister above everything else."
Robert slowly cut into the roasted at on his plate while silently thinking about Garon's explanation.
A mont later, he snorted coldly.
"The Lannisters caused trouble in the North and still dared provoke Lord Ned."
"They truly don't know their place."
"Garon, you should have obeyed Lord Ned's order and arrested the Kingslayer back then."
"Those weak southern knights should learn that the North is not sothing they can provoke lightly."
Laurence swallowed the at in his mouth and imdiately echoed Robert's words.
"That's right. I've heard stories about the Kingslayer."
"They say he stabbed his king in the back."
"His swordsmanship must be terrible. He's definitely no match for Garon."
Garon imdiately shook his head and corrected him seriously.
"What you hear is not always the truth, and what you see is not always reality."
"Laurence, rember this well. Never underestimate the Kingslayer in the future."
"His swordsmanship ranks among the finest in the Kingsguard. Underestimating him is no different from gambling with your own life."
Laurence looked embarrassed after being lectured by Garon and could only lower his head and silently continue gnawing on his roasted at.
Seeing him like that, Garon deliberately changed the atmosphere and laughed.
"However, Laurence was correct about one thing."
"He truly is no match for ."
"At that ti, he was so frightened he directly threw down his sword."
"Haha…"
Laurence and Gavin instantly lifted their heads and looked at Garon with admiration sparkling in their eyes.
Even Robert's eyes flickered with pride and surprise.
The dinner ended amidst such a warm and cheerful atmosphere.
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