❝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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Pebbles glimmered under the moonlit sky as Jon Snow stood in the barn, swinging his sword left and right on the dummy in front of him. Feathers flew around, as each hit was followed by another, each time more powerful and intense. He repeated the same action persistently, hoping it would help numb the flame in his chest. The barn smelt of animal piss and spoiled hay, but it was the least of his concerns. The night was long, and he hoped it would pass at a gallop.
As the high and noble men gathered inside the castle to celebrate their reunion, the bastard child of Lord Ned was left by himself out of their sight. He had no place amongst them. His place was where he stood, in a hut as nugatory as him.
But unbeknownst to him, Minerva had wandered there too. The celebration had pushed her over the edge so much, that she couldn't bear sitting there and pretending anymore. So, without any second thoughts she did what she wanted to since the start of the night. She left the grand hall. And found herself walking down the same way, she had taken earlier with Lady Catelyn. Only this time, the barns didn't stand empty.
The path was lit with scorch lamps and the wind carried shallow sounds. Once, she was close to the barns she realized she was not alone. Her eyes fell upon Jon, who was swinging his sword around without any purpose. He could use a break from the way his chest heaved, drawing in long heavy breaths, but it didn't seem to hinder him. He carried on his actions.
"Why aren't you at the feast?" Minerva chimed in, clearing her throat and making him pause from what he was doing. Jon had already recognized the voice. When he turned, his eyes fell on her making him bow in respect.
"My Lady," He lowered himself before her and then answered, "Lord Ned thought it might insult the Royal Family to seat a bastard in their midst." His eyes glistened as he watched her with a pained expression on his face. In the moment, all she could feel was pity for him. And she hated putting that on anyone.
"I would say you're lucky to be out of that fervent place," she bit the inside of her mouth remembering all the chaos. Minerva was never the type to fancy social gatherings. It drained her energy and made her want to escape.
Her comment made a little smile spread across his face, "What brings you here, my lady?" Jon attentively observed her, as she walked into the barn and took a seat on the blocks of hay that sat there. He couldn't reckon the last time a royal person did that, but he didn't mind. He found Minerva different from others, in a pleasing way.
"Let's put it this way," She had a mischievous expression on her face, "I found an opening and ran for it," a wholesome giggle escaped her mouth making her eyes scrunch up. Her laugh was genuine and so contagious, that Jon broke into one too. She patted the space next to her for him to sit, and he didn't waste a second. Jon smiled, looking at her.
He knew well enough that it was the last night he would be staying in his kingdom. And even though he wished he could spend more time with his family, all he could do was sit and wait. For with the first rays of light that sun casts tomorrow, he will leave this life behind him forever. He will choose the way, that many would run away from. But, for him it was still the better option.
