New students start from 'Game of Thrones'

Chapter 19 Advancement

Nearly everyone in the tent turned to stare at Owen—even Robert, who prided himself on his strength, gaped in disbelief.

Owen paid the stares no mind. He simply turned his gaze to Cersei, who was hiding behind Jaime Lannister.

His murderous glare stripped Cersei of her usual arrogance. She darted her eyes away, struggling to feign calm.

Jaime Lannister's palms were sweating. He feared Owen might lash out at any moment—and he knew he had to act.

"Lord Eddard, I believe this is a misunderstanding," Jaime said, forcing the words out. "Someone must have misinterpreted the queen's intentions and acted on their own."

Eddard Stark stared at Cersei and Jaime, his face dark and unreadable. He said nothing.

"Eddard! Let it go," Robert snapped. "The fools who overstepped are dead. As for Joffrey's 'injury'—he's an idiot who couldn't even beat a girl two or three years younger than him! Pathetic!"

Robert knew this was no time to assign blame. Though he was furious with Cersei, he couldn't risk escalating the conflict. If the situation spiraled out of control—and if Owen truly decided to attack—who in the tent could stop him?

The result would be a bloodbath. The Seven Kingdoms would plunge into war again, and the Targaryen remnants would seize the chance to return to Westeros. The Baratheon dynasty would crumble.

"Yes, Your Grace. I will discipline Arya properly," Eddard said, suppressing his anger toward the Lannisters. He bowed to Robert.

"That's enough for tonight. Everyone leave," Robert said, relieved that Eddard had agreed.

Seeing Eddard drop the matter, Owen let his murderous aura fade. He guided Arya forward, while Vayon Poole led Sansa. Together, they followed Eddard out of the royal tent.

Once they exited the king's camp, the Stark guards finally relaxed. They escorted the group back to their own encampment.

Inside Eddard's tent, he turned to the septa who cared for his daughters and issued a firm order:

"From today onward, Sansa will continue her needlework and etiquette lessons with you. Arya, aside from her daily studies, will devote all her free time to swordsmanship training.

Furthermore, Sansa is not to leave the camp alone—nor see the prince—without my permission. Is that clear?"

Eddard's tone was sharp when he spoke of Sansa, leaving no room for argument.

"You can't do this! I'm going to marry the prince! You can't keep us apart because of tonight! The queen wouldn't allow it—Mother promised me!" Sansa protested, horrified at the thought of being confined.

"I am the Lord of Winterfell. No one's promise matters but mine—not even the king's," Eddard snapped, losing his temper. It was a rare sight.

"The moment you chose to curry favor with Joffrey over your own sister, any chance of that marriage died. Now go," Eddard added.

"Take her to her quarters. Arya, you should rest too," Eddard said to the septa and Arya.

The septa led a sobbing Sansa away. Only Eddard, Owen, and Vayon remained in the tent.

"Owen, you did well tonight. If you hadn't intimidated Cersei and Jaime, the Lannister redcloaks might have killed us in the king's own camp," Eddard said, his voice earnest.

"It was my duty, my lord," Owen replied, bowing slightly.

"When we reach King's Landing, I'll have two new swords forged for you on the Street of Steel—better than your old one," Eddard said, glancing at Owen's empty scabbard.