Jon stood as still as he could under the intense gaze of Ser Barristan Selmy. Since the man had agreed to train him, Jon had been nervous. He had ensured he looked the part of a Kingsguard's squire. He had changed his clothes, he had straightened his hair and he'd removed the fluff that had been forming. He wanted to look the part and thus become the part.
Once Ser Barristan had looked him up and down a few times, the man asked. "Tell me Jon, why do you want to be a Knight of the Kingsguard?"
"Because it is the highest calling a knight can have. It is the epitome of duty and service. Putting yourself in the line to protect the King and the Queen and the Royal Family. The embodiment of the values of Knighthood." Jon replied.
"And the fact that we swear vows of celibacy? That does not bother you?" Ser Barristan asked.
Jon shook his head. "Women have no interest for me." That was true they never had. He'd always been more focused on fighting and avoiding siring a bastard.
Ser Barristan frowned. "You are young yet, that may well change."
Jon shook his head. "I do not think it will, Ser Barristan. I have never had any interest in women, I have only ever wanted to serve. Besides, Ser Jaime was slightly older than me when he joined the Kingsguard, and you were my age when you told Ser Duncan The Tall that you wished to serve."
Ser Barristan smiled at that. "Very well." There was a brief pause as the man came to stand beside him. "Tell me, what do you see?"
Jon looked at the man and then at their surroundings. They were in the sparring yard in Riverrun. Men were fighting one another with wooden swords, some men were ensuring their weapons remained in good condition and the smith was repairing others weapons. It was a din, but it was a reassuring din.
He said this to Ser Barristan and the man nodded but then said. "Look closer. What do you really see?"
Jon was slightly confused by this. Was there more to see than what he'd described? There likely was otherwise Ser Barristan wouldn't have asked him to look. He spent more time looking at the men who were sparring. He nodded to them and said. "The man currently swinging his sword is trying too hard."
"Why?" Ser Barristan asked.
Jon looked from the sparring men to the balcony where Lord Tywin was standing. "Because he knows Lord Tywin is watching and he hopes the man will put in a good word with the King." It didn't feel strange to call Robb by his title, which was something. Jon had thought it would.
"And will he?" Ser Barristan asked.
"I do not think so." Jon replied keeping an eye on Lord Tywin. The man's face was inscrutable but there was something about the way he held himself that suggested Lord Tywin wasn't really present.
"And why do you say that?" Ser Barristan asked.
"Because his eyes may be here but his mind is not. If you look at his posture, it suggests disinterest in his surroundings." Jon replied.
"And do you think it would remain as such if there was a disturbance here?" Ser Barristan asked.
"No." Jon said. "Then he would come too, he has not survived this long by being absent minded."
"Now look away from Lord Tywin and those fighting, look at those sorting out their weapons. What do you see?" Ser Barristan asked.
Jon focused on the men sorting their weapons out. One of them was wearing Stark colours, another was wearing Tully colours and a third, he gasped. The third was Ser Arys Oakheart.
"I thought Ser Arys was guarding the Queen?" Jon asked turning to look at Ser Barristan.
Ser Barristan smiled. "He is." The man then called out. "You are free to go now, Ser Arys." The man looked up and nodded before rising and walking off.
Jon frowned, Ser Barristan looked at him and explained. "Sometimes the real threats are buried in places where we least expect them. We see men working on their weapons and think they are not a threat, but we see the men sparring and think one wrong thing and then there is chaos everywhere. Sometimes it pays to pay attention to those who do not look like a threat, for they are often the biggest threat."
Jon nodded and said. "I will keep that in mind for the future, Ser Barristan."
"Do we really have to do this?" Robb asked.
Myrcella looked up from the fabric and snorted. "You know we do and you know why we do, so why don't you sit down next to me and listen to what I have to say instead of whining?" She loved her husband but sometimes he could be a real child. She corrected herself, not sometimes, it was only over this. And she couldn't understand why. He knew why this mattered, and he'd even agreed that it was important, so why was he complaining?
Robb sat down next to her and looked at the fabric. Myrcella looked at him to gauge his reaction. She had red, gold, grey, purple and blue on the table before them. She knew he knew what she thought about grey-it was not Kingly at all-but she wanted to see whether he'd still pick it out of instinct.
"Why have you got grey on the table?" Robb asked instead. "We both know that's not a Kingly colour."
Myrcella smiled and picked up the grey fabric before handing it to a servant. "I wanted to see if you'd still go for it."
Robb looked at her an eyebrow raised. "I might whine, but I'm not an idiot."
Myrcella giggled. "I know."
He turned back to look at the remaining fabric.
"Not red." Robb said. "That will make me look like your grandfather's puppet."
Myrcella nodded her approval; she'd included that simply because she knew her grandfather would want to know she had. She picked up the fabric and handed it to a servant. That left the gold, purple and blue.
Robb looked at the purple and picked it up, his hands running over the fabric. He looked at her and asked. "What do you think of purple? I know some Kings of the Trident wore Purple before the Conquest. And I think some Storm Kings did as well."
Myrcella nodded. "Though most of the images that people have is of King Aenys, and he was not the strongest of Kings. It is much harder to change a person's impression of something once they've had a particular impression of it put into their heads. King Aenys is what people associate purple with now, rather than the Durrandons or anyone else."
"So, you think they'll immediately think I'm like King Aenys?" Robb asked.
"Not deliberately, but subconsciously, yes." Myrcella replied.
"Then not purple." Robb said. Myrcella picked up the fabric and handed it to a servant, that left just gold and blue.
"The gold would tie in nicely to the Baratheon part of our claim." Myrcella said. Especially given the nonsense that Stannis had said in his letter. A letter had arrived in Riverrun a few days' ago, from Stannis Baratheon in which he claimed that he was the rightful King because Myrcella and her siblings were all illegitimate, and the result of an affair between Mother and Uncle Jaime.
Uncle Jaime had laughed off the claims and said it was the move of a desperate man. Grandfather had agreed, stating that his sources had reported that Stannis hadn't gotten anywhere near the support he'd thought he would on Dragonstone.
Still, using gold to reinforce legitimacy could be something.
Robb showed he'd learned a lot already in the short time since they'd become King and Queen, when he said. "It could also make people think we're doing that to discredit Stannis and his lies. If people think we're adopting the gold in response to him, they'll think that there is truth to them. No, we must make people think that he's talking nonsense and the way to do that is by ignoring the lies and adopting a colour that shows confidence."
He picked up the blue fabric and said. "This. Blue, the symbol of King Jaehaerys and King Daeron The Good. Two of the greatest Kings Westeros has ever had. And it also looks good with my hair colour."
Myrcella smiled. "Blue it is then." She felt a tinge of pride for her husband then.