As the blizzard raged outside, the great hall of Winterfell's main keep radiated a warm, yellow glow. The gray stone hall, capable of hosting five hundred and adorned with banners, was hosting a family welcoming dinner.
The Duke and his son, Brandon Stark, both wore silver-gray velvet coats embroidered with direwolves. They sat at the high table, on the main seats at the center of the long table. The Duke, being a widower, had Brandon seated opposite him. To the Duke's right sat one of the most distinguished guests: Robert Baratheon. He had dressed himself with care for this dinner, which resembled an engagement celebration. He wore a black velvet jacket, his house sigil, a crowned stag, embroidered in gold thread on the chest, and an outer cloak of black and gold checkered pattern. He also wore a large gold and sapphire necklace, and a soft gold crown woven in the shape of antlers upon his smooth forehead. Paired with his thick, black hair, his deep blue eyes, and his handsome, proper face, who wouldn't be smitten?
At least the Duke Stark was increasingly satisfied, thinking that the husband he had chosen for his daughter was truly outstanding—Robert was straightforward, young, wealthy, tall, strong, a good drinker, and one of the most noble lords in the Seven Kingdoms. What could Lyanna possibly be dissatisfied with?
The main character of the banquet was currently sitting dejectedly in her room, receiving her final grooming from her maids. Her long, curly brown hair was adorned with a pearl and diamond hairpiece, and she wore a matching necklace. This is nothing more than a gorgeous set of shackles, Lyanna thought, dragging me to endure punishment—isn't it torture to have to be friendly with a stranger at the banquet?
The dress she was forced to wear was a pure, silvery-blue like moonlight, with Myr lace, and decorated with tiny gems and pearls. The skirt was enormous, and the waist was slender. Lyanna tugged at the hem. If she were to ride a horse in this, she would surely suffocate.
Lyanna's appearance at the entrance of the banquet hall undoubtedly ignited Robert's ardor. He eagerly pulled out a chair for her and held her hand as she sat down. Lyanna's smile was forced, her back stiff, but like the other noble ladies, she sat gracefully beside him. Am I finished? she thought. He's looking at my waist and chest. How disgusting—this man has illegitimate children, according to rumors in the Stormlands!
The dress was so tight around her chest and waist that Lyanna found it difficult to breathe. She couldn't help but be thankful that the food hadn't been served yet, otherwise, she might throw up—if she did, could her marriage be called off?
The servants at the door stood at attention as another person was welcomed into the hall. It was Prince Viserys Targaryen. Lyanna looked up at him, and like everyone else, was surprised.
Because, Viserys had actually attended the banquet wearing a page's uniform: a black velvet inner sleeve and a matching cloak. He wore no jewelry, appearing simple and elegant, yet with a gleeful expression. He stood behind Robert, close to her side, as if ready to serve wine at any moment. Lyanna thought, with his head bowed, he really looked like a little black swan diving along the riverbank.
"Hey! What are you doing?" Robert turned his head.
"I'm a page, not trying to steal your thunder, my lord."
Robert chuckled, "What thunder could you possibly steal from me, you little boy?" He thought to himself, You, you... you haven't served wine in ages. What's gotten into you tonight? Want to show the Starks that you're a good page, and will make a good knight someday? It's a sweet thought, but unnecessary.
"Alright, I won't send you off. For an occasion like tonight, Your Royal Highness!" Robert pointed to the seat directly opposite him, to the right of Brandon, the second most prestigious seat, "You should sit there, eat and drink. Otherwise, your brother will think I've done something to you."
"Yes, Your Highness, please be seated," Brandon also rose and said.
The little prince nodded and walked to his seat, "Alright! Then I'll go change into a proper outfit!!"
After saying that, he casually tossed the black velvet page's cloak draped over his arm onto the long table, which had not yet been served, and turned around, running off.
"He's certainly energetic," everyone thought.
"The little prince is still just a child," said the Duke Stark. "He's favored, and he'll likely be named Prince of Summerhall."
"I think so too," Robert said with a smile. "When he gets that land, it'll be in the Stormlands. We'll get along famously."
Oh, yes, will you? Will you trick him, and then rebel seven years later, ultimately losing your castle status and all that? At least Viserys was truly happy, because he destroyed all the power that could have attacked his brother, annihilating it completely. No one knows about the 'Mad Prince's' accomplishment in later generations, but the title has endured.
The Stark family's dinner was in the style of The North: golden, tender roast chicken dripping with honey, wild beef and roasted onions, beef bacon patties, pork kidney pie with peas and onions, venison chops stuffed with carrots, bacon, and mushrooms, clove-roasted lamb chops, and frozen fruit soup. Course after course of delicacies were served, quickly filling the empty spaces on the table—the little prince's cloak lay there conspicuously, occupying the space where the pear liqueur was to be placed.
As a distinguished guest, the servants dared not touch the King's Landing prince's belongings.
Seeing this, Robert stood up and reached out his arm. "It's nothing, it's my page's things; I have the right to move them." He stretched out his long arm, grabbed the cloak, and was about to throw it back on the chair—
"Plop!" A small, parchment-bound notebook fell out. It landed in the barley stew...
Lyanna hurriedly salvaged the parchment, her movements quick and sure. Ned, sitting beside her, gestured for a servant to remove the dish. Lyanna, fearing the soup had stained the contents, carefully wiped it with a handkerchief—though she hadn't meant to, she'd seen what was written.
"What is this?" she whispered.
Robert was quick to speak up, "Viserys writes every day. Letters to his brother, describing the sights along the way. He'll surely send them back to King's Landing by raven."
Lyanna's grey eyes didn't even glance at him, fixed instead on the parchment. Her delicate lips parted and closed—she flipped through it page by page, quickly.
Ned thought his sister's behavior was rude. "Lyanna!" he said softly. "Put it down, please?"
Lyanna looked up, a strange, bitter smile on her face. "Brother, Father—this isn't a letter. It's not written for the Prince. It's…"
She thrust the parchment at Ned. "Read it. I don't mind offending anyone. Read it out loud, here and now!"
Ned received it with a dubious look. He flipped through the pages, his face turning grim as he fell silent.
"I want to see! What is it?!" His younger, mischievous brother Benjen snatched the booklet from his hand. "Lord Rosby's castle handmaiden, blonde hair, buxom, blue eyes, named Leyla, expected to give birth to Robert's bastard in ten months?"
"A cook in Duskendale, black hair, slim waist, brown eyes, named Diana, Robert gave her a golden ring. He calls her sweetheart in bed. Expected to give birth to a bastard in ten months."
Robert slammed his goblet onto the table with a clatter. He looked mortified, scratching his head awkwardly. "This----"
The Duke Stark was the first to regain composure. He beckoned to his youngest son, Benjen, to stop reading and hand the book over.
"This entire book is like this," Lyanna stated calmly. "Brother, Father, I need some peace. Thank you." With that, she left the banquet hall without looking back.
Her skirts swirled, the gems and pearls like stars in the heavens. Robert was stunned. How could he have known that the damn pageboy had written all this down along the way?!
Lyanna, rushing towards the door, happened to bump into Viserys, who had just changed. She gave a bitter smile, tinged with gratitude, and curtsied to him before running off.
Viserys was dressed in a purple brocade robe with wide sleeves, adorned with glittering diamond jewels. His long hair was styled with a dragonbone clip, making him look handsome—but Robert only wanted to strangle him at that moment.
The young prince walked to the side of his seat with an innocent and confused expression. He saw his parchment booklet spread out in front of Duke Stark, his purple eyes widened, and he exclaimed in surprise, "Why did you read my diary, which I wrote all the way here?"
Robert slammed his fist on the table. "Why did you write such things!!"
Viserys raised his head, and he was also angry. "I'm a page, sleeping outside your room every day, why can't I write it down? If you think your jewelry is missing, there should be a record, right? I am conscientious and responsible! You gave a total of thirty-six gold rings, eleven gold bracelets, and two gemstone necklaces along the way!! Bracelets and necklaces were taken from the gifts sent to Winterfell!!"
Robert's expression was fantastic, both dark and red—Viserys enjoyed this person's embarrassment and anger. Explode, explode! It would be best to reveal a violent tendency to beat a child! Come on! We've arrived at Winterfell, do you think I still have any interest in being your page? Viserys couldn't wait to make a scene and leave him openly and honestly, preferably if he took the initiative to dismiss him as his page.
Duke Stark stood up and stopped the impending conflict. "What happened before the engagement doesn't matter. The key is after the marriage, Robert. I trust you won't let my daughter down."
Brandon followed, patting Robert's black velvet shoulder. "Brother, you really should have cut off all your lovers before the wedding, just like me."
Viserys wasn't surprised at all by the attitude of the Duke and his heir, Brandon. After all, extramarital affairs among nobles were commonplace during this period, and having illegitimate children was even more common. Each region of the Seven Kingdoms had its own distinctive naming rules for the illegitimate children of nobles, with those in The North all taking the surname Snow.
Thinking about this made Viserys unhappy. His brother's son, a legitimate child, that Snow... he should be Aegon Targaryen, and live a life of honor!
He looked at Ned, who had kept a huge secret for his entire life. Among the adult Stark brothers, Ned was the only one who might favor his sister a bit.
The Duke asked Ned to comfort Lyanna, who was closest to him, and tell her that Robert had promised to change after the wedding.
Viserys secretly sneered, whoever believed that was a fool.
To help Robert save face, Brandon suggested he display his prowess. He would arrange a tournament in the training yard—Lyanna had loved riding and swordplay since she was a child, and a man with outstanding skills would surely attract her.
The Duke agreed.
"Here, Ned, take a lemon cake to your sister's room and let her calm down."
Viserys remained outwardly calm. He only picked up a honey lemon cake from the banquet and slowly ate two bites. This was also a food that his brother liked.