❝Each time you happen to me all over again.❞
Robb Stark, the King of the North, is forced to marry the mysterious and courageous Princess Minerva of House Baratheon, a political pawn meant to strengthen his kingdom's alliances against the Westeros...
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News travel fast in the North. And soon the word of the royal reunion was spoken off at each corner of the town. Assumptions were made, and rumors spread fast as to why the King actually decided to travel all the way to Winterfell. Some supposedly believed that it was a gamble. That the matter involved much more than what was being let on. Others thought of more reasonable things.
Jon Arryn, honored to be the Hand of the King was now dead. And so the protection of Robert Baratheon was at stake. It was revealed to Ned first, and then his wife Catelyn had guessed it too. He was to be the next hand of the king. And even though it meant, that Ned had to make a choice of leaving behind his kingdom and family. Men in the North, took pride in their sacrifice when honor calls.
Minerva had woken up earlier than usual. Her handmaiden had dressed her in a warm white dress, and draped a royal-blue cloak over her shoulders. Liana had grown fond of the princess. Despite only spending some time with her, she found her personality very charismatic. She had let her silky red hair fall down past her shoulders, like how the women did it in the North. And even though Minerva was used to her braided hair put up, she didn't complain.
As she strolled to the great hall of the castle accompanied by her handmaiden, the sounds of chattering filled her ears. Upon entering, her mouth fall open at the sight of workers pacing around. Chandeliers were being put up, and fresh meat and vegetables were carried around. The workers scrubbed the walls and mopped the floors. She spotted Lady Catelyn along with Maester Luwin ordering around the help, and made her way to them.
"We need plenty of candles for Lord Tyrion's chamber." She overheard Lady Catelyn tell the maester. "I'm told he reads all night." She added making Minerva shake her head.
Maester Luwin looked up from the long list of chores grasped in his hand with a snarky look on his face. "I am told he drinks all night." He scoffed.
Lord Tyrion Lannister, brother of Queen Cersei was anything but a reader. More commonly known as the imp, who Minerva thought to be a filthy excuse for a human. He had his head up his rear end most of the time. And like all the other Lannisters, she hated his guts and disloyalty towards her father. Even though she tried warning him many times, but nothing ever seemed to get the thought into the King's head. The Lannister were just that clever with their acts. But Minerva saw right through them.
"How much could he possibly drink?" Cat stopped in her tracks as if in deep thought, "A man of his... stature?" Her eyebrows were raised in amusement.
"We have brought up eight barrels of ale from the cellar. Perhaps we'll find out," the maester asserted before rushing out of the hall.
Minerva approached Catelyn, and as soon as her eyes fell on her she gasped, "Your Grace, what brings you here?" She questioned the young girl before her almost as if running out of breath because of all the running around.
