"I wanted to give myself to you last night," she said. Her face turned red as she looked at their hands. "I knew the King was here. I knew they'd take me south for alliance, away from home... away from you. I wanted it to be my choice before they married me off to a prince."
She squeezed his hand and gave him a tired smile.
"But my father made you my guard. We'll be on the road for weeks, and the city is huge." She leaned in, whispering in his ear. "We're going to have a lot more chances than I thought, Alaric."
Alaric pulled her close. He felt drained. The rush from the System and the run-in with Jaime was gone, leaving him exhausted.
"You haven't slept, have you?" Sansa asked. She saw the dark circles under his eyes.
She kissed his cheek. Her skin was cool, but it made him feel warm.
"Lie down," she said, patting her lap.
She unbuckled her heavy fur cloak and spread it out. "Use this. The ground is cold, but I'll keep you warm."
Alaric looked at the trees. "Sansa... the patrols. If a scout or Jory finds us like this, it's over. If I fall asleep, I won't hear them."
Sansa didn't blink. She grabbed his hand and pulled him down. She looked more confident than usual.
"I'm not helpless, Alaric," she whispered. "I've lived here my whole life. I know how the guards move and how the wind sounds when horses are coming."
She settled his head on her lap and covered him with the heavy cloak. She started running her fingers through his hair.
"Just sleep," she said. "I'll watch the woods. I'll wake you up way before anyone gets close. Let me guard you for once."
The System flickered one last time in the corner of his eye.
Alaric smelled lemon cakes and roses. His eyes finally closed, and he drifted off.
...
The King's golden carriage sat in the middle of the courtyard like a giant, fancy box. Inside, it smelled like spiced wine and heavy perfume—nothing like the cold, pine-scented air outside.
Jaime Lannister leaned against the velvet wall. He stared out the window, thinking about the moment Alaric Thorne had walked out of the shadows with the Stark boy in his arms.
"He knows," Jaime said, his voice low.
Cersei stopped pouring her wine. She knew exactly who he meant. "The ward? He's a nobody, Jaime. Just a stray dog the Starks kept to feel good about themselves."
"A nobody who was in the perfect spot to catch a falling kid," Jaime said, turning to her. "I saw his face. He wasn't surprised. He was waiting. If he saw us in that tower..."
Cersei slammed her wine carafe onto the table. Her green eyes were cold. "So what if he does? He has no land and no title. It's the word of a servant against the Queen. He has no proof. His story would die the second I told him to shut up."
She stepped closer to Jaime, her silk dress rustling. "The Starks are fools. They made him the girl's guard because they think he's a hero."
"A hero is just a man who hasn't been killed yet," Jaime muttered.
"Then find a way," Cersei whispered, touching the golden lion on his chest. "The road south is long. There are bogs and bandits. Accidents happen. If he's a threat, take care of him. An arrow, a fall—whatever it takes."
She looked toward the door. "The Stark boy might die on his own. But that ward... he's a problem. Watch him, Jaime. And when the time is right, get rid of him."
...
The heavy weight of sleep finally lifted as Alaric felt a soft warmth against his forehead. The System's blue screen, usually bright and sharp, was just a dim pulse in the corner of his eye, signaling that his energy was back.
" wake up..., My Prince" a voice whispered. It was sweet and soft, right next to his ear.