The wolf and the lamb

Chapter 7

The snow did not stop falling.

It covered the garden where Rhaegar and I had laughed, erasing the marks where we had fallen. Erasing evidence.

But not memory.

The days that followed blurred together. Preparations for the wedding consumed Winterfell. Seamstresses stitched endlessly. Servants whispered. Lords arrived with gifts and expectations.

I felt like a prize being polished.

Each night, when the castle quieted and the torches burned low, I slipped from my chambers.

And each night, he was there.

Waiting.

⸻

"You came," Rhaegar said softly as I stepped onto the frost-covered stones.

"You asked," I replied.

The wind lifted the silver strands of his hair as he approached. There was something different in him tonight — something heavier.

"My father means to strengthen alliances," he said. "Your marriage to Robert binds the North and the Stormlands. It changes the balance of power."

"I am aware," I answered bitterly.

"You are more than a bargain," he said firmly.

His words struck deeper than he knew.

For a long moment, we stood in silence, the cold biting at our skin.

"Run away with me," I whispered before I could stop myself.

The words hung between us like fragile glass.

Rhaegar's jaw tightened.

"If I steal you," he said quietly, "it will mean war."

"And if I marry him," I replied, "it will mean the end of me."

He stepped closer.

Too close.

His gloved fingers brushed against mine — hesitant at first, then certain.

"I have never feared battle," he murmured. "But I fear losing you more."

My breath caught.

"Then don't lose me."

The kiss was not rushed.

It was not reckless.

It was slow — careful — as though we both understood that this moment would change everything.

Snow melted between us.

When we finally pulled apart, the world felt different.

Irreversible.

The next morning, Robert watched me.

Not casually.

Not affectionately.

Watching.

"You seem tired," he observed as we walked through the courtyard.

"I didn't sleep well," I answered truthfully.

He studied my face longer than necessary.

"You're not having doubts, are you?" he asked lightly — but there was steel beneath the humor.

"About what?"

"About us."

I forced a smile. "Of course not."

His hand tightened around mine.

Across the yard, Rhaegar stood beside his father's banners, speaking with visiting lords.

He did not look at me.

Not once.

And that frightened me more than if he had.

That evening, Ned cornered me outside the godswood.

"You've been different," he said bluntly.

"Grief changes people," I replied.

Ned shook his head. "This is not grief."

My silence betrayed me.

His voice softened.

"Chasity... whatever you're doing, be careful. Robert is not a man who takes betrayal lightly."

Betrayal.

The word echoed in my chest.

Was it betrayal... to want love?

That night, in the quiet of the rooftop once more, Rhaegar took my hands.

"I leave in three days," he said.

The words knocked the breath from me.

"Three days?"

"My father calls me back to King's Landing."

The world felt smaller suddenly.

"I will not forget you," he said.

"You don't get to forget me," I whispered.

His forehead rested against mine.

"Meet me tomorrow. One last night before I go."

One last night.

The most dangerous words in all the Seven Kingdoms.