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"I am taking Bran riding this morning. Come with us, would you?" Robb asked sweetly.
"Are you sure you want me to come? What if we race? You scared to lose to a girl-- again?" Giselle teased.
"I'll take the risk, my lady," Robb retorted, taking his leave from the room.
"We will be waiting for you at the stables when you're dressed. I'll have them saddle Kahlua for you," Robb effused. Giselle nodded gratefully, shooing him from her chambers so she could change into her riding clothes.
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"Not too fast," Robb warned his little brother cautiously. The boy was riding in his new saddle for the first time. He was jeering at his horse, ordering it around.
"You worry too much. He's doing fine," Giselle reassured the man on the horse next to her. His horse was a noble, white steed, contrasting her raven black stallion. Theon Greyjoy rode behind the couple bitterly.
"I have much to worry about these days, Giselle. My father is being held captive, only the gods know where my mother is, my sisters are in King's landing, my brother is a cripple, and my youngest brother cries all the time and I have no idea how to comfort him," Robb muttered. Giselle released one hand from her reigns, reaching out to squeeze his own reassuringly.
"When are you gonna tell him?" Theon interjected.
"Not now," Robb barked.
"Blood for blood. You need to make the Lannisters pay for Jory and the others," Theon growled.
"You're talking about war," Robb scoffed.
"I'm talking about justice," Theon corrected.
"War does not demand peace," Giselle warned.
"Only the Lord of Winterfell can call in the bannermen and raise an army," Robb reminded his ward harshly.
"A Lannister put his spear through your father's leg. The Kingslayer rides to Casterly Rock where no one can touch--" Theon babbled.
"You want me to march on Casterly Rock?" Robb raged.
"His father is very much so alive. We want to keep it that way. What if we fail to take Casterly Rock, eh? What if we fail? They'll kill Ned Stark," Giselle objected.
