Game of Thrones: The Wolf of Deepwood Motte Chapter 7 CHAPTER 7

Garon naturally had no idea what sort of romantic thoughts were currently passing through Sansa Stark's mind.

What he did notice, however, was the sudden excitent shining in Robb Stark's eyes.

The mont Robb heard Garon compare Westerosi chess to commanding armies and planning campaigns, his entire attitude changed imdiately. His gaze locked firmly onto the board in front of him with such intensity that he looked ready to seize the pieces at any mont.

Unlike Sansa, Robb had never cared much for gas favored by noble ladies or soft southern courtiers. But a strategy ga connected to warfare and tactics was an entirely different matter.

Taking advantage of Garon pausing briefly after explaining the board, Robb imdiately stepped closer and asked eagerly, "How exactly are the rules played?"

"And how do the pieces move?"

"Why don't you teach while we play a ga?"

As he spoke, Robb instinctively reached toward the chessboard.

However, before his fingers could touch the pieces, Sansa quickly stopped him.

"Robb!"

Her brows furrowed imdiately.

"What are you doing?"

"This is my gift. You can't simply grab it and start playing."

Robb laughed awkwardly after being scolded by his younger sister, though the eagerness in his eyes clearly remained.

Watching the siblings argue over the board, Garon inwardly smiled.

As expected, the gift had already achieved its intended effect.

Sotis, even the best things in the world required proper presentation and explanation before others could appreciate them.

Seeing the two siblings caught in a stalemate, Garon stepped forward smoothly to ease the situation.

"Westerosi chess requires two players anyway," he said calmly. "Why not let explain the rules while the two of you try a ga together?"

Neither Robb nor Sansa objected.

Thus, Garon cleared his throat lightly before beginning a proper introduction to the pieces spread across the board.

"Westerosi chess uses thirty-two pieces in total. Sixteen belong to each side."

He pointed toward the front rows.

"These are soldiers. They form the first line of defense and are placed on the row closest to the player."

Then he gestured toward the larger carved pieces positioned behind them.

"The crowned piece is the king."

"The goal of the ga is simple. Once the enemy king can no longer escape capture, the ga ends."

As Garon calmly explained each piece and its movents, everyone in the room gradually beca more interested.

Even Septa Mordane, who originally viewed the gift with displeasure, found herself listening carefully despite knowing almost nothing about strategy gas.

As for Sansa and Robb, they beca fully absorbed almost imdiately.

Under Garon's guidance, the two siblings slowly began arranging pieces and attempting their first moves.

Soon afterward, they were completely imrsed in the ga itself.

anwhile, while Garon taught Sansa and the others how to play Westerosi chess, activity throughout Winterfell continued to grow increasingly busy as preparations for King Robert's arrival neared completion.

Inside the main keep, Catelyn Stark had just returned from the Great Hall and was personally inspecting the royal guest chambers alongside Maester Luwin.

Servants moved busily through the corridors carrying candles, blankets, and decorations while Catelyn directed them one after another.

"Place more candles near the windows," she instructed firmly.

"And the table against the wall needs fresh flowers."

Once the servants hurried away to follow her instructions, Catelyn turned toward Maester Luwin with a tired frown.

"Also, prepare additional wine for the royal party."

"Ned says King Robert drinks heavily."

Maester Luwin adjusted the sleeves of his grey robes before replying calmly, "My lady, eight barrels of ale have already been brought up from the cellars."

"I will arrange for two more."

Then, after a brief pause, he added, "I have also heard that Lord Tyrion Lannister enjoys drinking late into the night."

At the ntion of Tyrion Lannister, an image of the sharp-tongued dwarf imdiately surfaced within Catelyn's mind.

She rubbed her forehead with a sigh.

"How could I forget him?"

"Maester Luwin, make certain Lord Tyrion's chambers are arranged properly as well."

"Take there."

Luwin nodded politely before turning to guide her through another corridor.

"Considering Lord Tyrion's height," he explained as they walked, "his room has been arranged on the first floor for convenience."

Catelyn listened absentmindedly while following beside him.

Truthfully, her thoughts had already drifted elsewhere once again.

Ever since leaving the Great Hall earlier that day, Ned's decision regarding Sansa's betrothal continued lingering within her heart like a thorn she could neither ignore nor remove.

As soone who had known Catelyn for many years, Maester Luwin naturally noticed her distracted expression.

He understood perfectly what troubled her.

Still, he rely sighed quietly and continued leading the way without comnting further.

The two had just reached the end of the corridor and were about to descend a flight of stone stairs when soone suddenly rounded the corner ahead.

The figure nearly collided with Maester Luwin directly.

"Theon?" Catelyn asked in surprise after recognizing him.

"What are you doing here?"

Then she frowned slightly.

"Weren't you supposed to be with Bran in the training yard?"

Naturally, Theon had no intention of revealing the humiliation he suffered earlier before Garon Glover.

Thus, he answered vaguely, "Ser Rodrik sent , my lady."

"He said Winterfell was short-handed preparing for the King's arrival and asked to help."

Catelyn looked at him carefully.

Imdiately, suspicion rose within her heart.

She had not spoken to Ser Rodrik all morning, nor had she requested Theon's assistance at any point.

Clearly, there was another reason he ca looking for her.

Realizing this, Catelyn quickly devised an excuse to dismiss Maester Luwin first.

"Maester Luwin, please go ahead and inspect Lord Tyrion's chambers without ."

"I'll join you shortly."

The maester nodded calmly. His eyes briefly swept across Theon before he descended the stone stairs silently.

Only after Luwin's footsteps disappeared entirely did Catelyn look back toward Theon.

"What is it you actually want to say?"

"I never asked Ser Rodrik to summon you."

Truthfully, Catelyn's feelings toward Theon Greyjoy had always remained fairly neutral.

Though he was Balon Greyjoy's son, he had still grown up under Ned Stark's care for nearly a decade.

One day, he would likely return to the Iron Islands to inherit Pyke from his father.

Because of this, Catelyn had always treated him reasonably well. At the very least, she hoped maintaining goodwill now might help Robb in the future.

Compared to Theon, there was only one boy in Winterfell she truly disliked.

Thus, without hesitation, she asked directly:

"Theon, has Jon Snow caused trouble again?"

Theon imdiately realized she had misunderstood.

Yet just as he prepared to explain, Garon Glover's figure suddenly surfaced within his thoughts.

The mory of being publicly humiliated in the training yard instantly reignited the anger in his chest.

"A wolf-loving bastard sympathizer."

"A northern brute hiding inside the Wolfswood."

"And he dares think himself worthy of marrying Sansa Stark?"

Jealousy flickered through Theon's eyes.

Almost instantly, a malicious idea ford within his mind.

"My lady," he said carefully, "have you t Garon Glover yet?"

Seeing Catelyn nod slightly, Theon imdiately began exaggerating the events from earlier in the training yard.

"He openly praised Jon Snow before everyone, saying the blood of the wolf ran strongly through him."

"He even compared Jon to Robb repeatedly."

"I rely questioned his intentions, but instead he ignored and insulted in front of everyone."

Then Theon lowered his voice deliberately.

"My lady… how can soone like that beco Sansa's husband?"

Having lived in Winterfell for many years, Theon understood Catelyn Stark's temperant extrely well.

He knew there was almost nothing she hated more than seeing Jon Snow treated as equal to her trueborn children.

Sure enough, before he had even finished speaking, Catelyn's expression darkened visibly.

She had never expected Jon Snow to beco involved with one of the North's powerful bannern.

Imdiately, unease surged within her heart.

What Catelyn feared most was the possibility of Jon one day threatening Robb's inheritance.

Now, hearing that Garon openly praised Jon before others only intensified that anxiety further.

"Jon…"

"Garon…"

The two nas repeatedly echoed through her thoughts.

Disgust and irritation twisted together within her chest until she almost felt sick.

After a long mont, Catelyn finally suppressed her emotions and spoke expressionlessly.

"I understand, Theon."

"You may leave now."

Theon instantly knew his goal had been achieved.

Thus, he wisely chose not to push further.

After bowing slightly, he turned and walked away through the corridor.

And the mont his back faced Catelyn Stark, a smug smile quietly appeared at the corner of his mouth.

"With Lady Catelyn opposing him…"

"The heir of Deepwood Motte can forget about marrying Sansa now."