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𝕭lack 𝕴ce chapter nine. queen taliana
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𝕿HE night had grown cold by the time Robb and Taliana made their way through the camp. The fires had burned low, casting flickering light across the tents and the soldiers who still lingered awake. Men lowered their heads as the King and Queen of the North passed.
"Your Graces."
"King in the North."
"Your Grace."
Taliana walked beside Robb, her cloak pulled tightly around her shoulders. She acknowledged the men with small nods, her eyes occasionally drifting toward the rows of tents.
They had been on the road for so long that the constant movement had almost become familiar.
As they approached the edge of the camp, the guards opened the gate. Jaime Lannister sat against a wooden post, his hands bound, his once pristine armor replaced by dirt, blood, and exhaustion.
The Kingslayer lifted his head as they approached, "I keep expecting you to leave me in one castle or another for safekeeping," Jaime said. "But instead, you drag me along from camp to camp."
His eyes moved toward Robb, "Have you grown fond of me, Stark?"
Then his gaze shifted toward Taliana, "Or is the queen taking charge?"
Taliana stopped, and her expression hardened, "Watch your tone when speaking to the King in the North."
Jaime smiled, "So much hate in your voice, niece," Taliana's jaw tightened, "We are family, don't forget it."
For a moment, Taliana simply stared at him. Then one eyebrow rose, "Your Grace," Jaime corrected himself, almost mockingly.
Taliana stepped closer, "You will never be my family."
Jaime's smile faltered for half a second before he gave a low laugh.
Taliana's eyes narrowed. Robb stepped between them before the exchange could continue, "Enough."
