"Ah, she is clever after all," said Cersei, smirking.
"Wit is such a rare accomplice to beauty yet we
stand, alone, in a room crowded with only that."
Cersei lifted a thick strand of Eleonora's hair, ran it
through her fingers, and dropped it back o...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Character is much easier kept than recovered. —
"What was that all about?" asked Robb.
"Nothing," Eleonora muttered. "I was speaking with Jon, that's all."
"Funny. Jon seems to be looking quite a lot like Jaime Lannister these days," he replied as Eleonora brushed by him in the same manner as Jaime had moments before. Robb followed her, pulling her against the back wall by her elbow as soon as they reentered the hall.
"Let go, idiot," she frowned, avoiding his eyes.
"Are you alright?" asked Robb fiercely. "What did he say to you?"
"Nothing," she spat, ripping her arm from his. "Stop being overprotective."
Eleonora was quick tempered, there was no denying it. However, it took quite a lot to get under her skin and even more to stay there. Her wolf-blood was boiling, steam nearly visible from her nostrils. Though she loved Robb with all her heart, she hated when he acted like he was her older brother or worse — her father. Coincidentally, that was precisely who she needed to see at that moment. She abandoned her cloak near the entrance and straightened her skirts.
Ned Stark, as wise as ever, had been watching the scene between his children unfold. He knew something had happened in the courtyard judging by Jon's joyful change in expression and Robb and Eleonora's unusually tempered exchange. He eyed his daughter as she approached him, his scowl softening into a weak smile when their eyes met. Her father always calmed her nerves no matter the occasion. She was so concerned with speaking with him that she didn't notice the king, drunk and delirious, staring unblinkingly upon her. Eleonora lowered her head and curtsied once she was before her father, King Robert beside him.
"Father, I was hoping to speak with you," she said. "It can wait until morning, but it is about Jon. I would like to steal you away for a private breakfast if it appeases you."
"Certainly, daughter," he nodded. "Is everything alright—"
"Ned, surely you wouldn't forget to introduce your King to such a lovely creature," King Robert interrupted.
"Your Grace, allow me to present my eldest daughter, Eleonora Stark," said Ned in a reluctant tone.
"My King," she curtsied. "My apologies for missing the opportunity to greet you upon your arrival this morning. I apparently was feeling ill." Her stare lingered most unpleasantly upon her mother who was seated nearby.
"No greater atrocity has ever been committed," said the King. "Have you been told how much you resemble your aunt?"
"More times than you could possibly fathom, Your Grace," she replied.
"But her mother's eyes," said Ned quite hastily as he eyed the King's whimsical expression. "She has Tully blood in her veins."
"Though much more a Stark than a Tully, I wager," said Robert. "I see a wolf hiding behind those big, blue Riverrun eyes."
