Sansa and Jeyne had been at the feast for little over an hour now. And many things have happened; Sansa greeted the Queen, who asked if she was a woman yet, and Sansa had to embarrassingly say no. She was having drunk men bumping into her and giving her creepy looks, and Sansa had been hit in the face by a small, half chewed, piece of meat that her sister, Arya, threw from afar—she had cleaned it, but it was still utterly embarrassing because Robb and Theon laughed, which made everyone else roar with laughter. It almost brought tears in her eyes. Gods, she hated her sister.

"This meat is really good…" said Jeyne casually with her mouth full.

"A lady never eats with her mouth full, Jeyne, you should know that" she said, not looking back, but instead, she had her gaze locked on the Baratheon boys.

"Just say hello to them, already" Jeyne said, sighing, "You've been eyeing off Joffrey since he arrived"

Sansa rolled her eyes; her gaze remained on the boys. Joffrey caught her looking at her and he smiled a little, moving his hand towards himself, signalling her to come over.

"See?" Jeyne said, "Go, go"

Sansa nodded and stood up. She walked towards them; Joffrey was still fixed on her while Cesare had his wine cup to his mouth, rolling his eyes.

Sansa had to admit that they were both utterly attractive. They had a brotherly charm about them, although they didn't look alike what-so-ever; Joffrey looked like his mother with his blonde hair and light eyes, while Cesare looked manlier, older, and like his father, Robert. Cesare had dark hair which was a mop of messy curls that cascaded down to just above his broad shoulders, and Joffrey's was very much the opposite. It was weird how young Joffrey looked when he was indeed the older brother. Older by only a year, yes, but still, Cesare looked seventeen, while Joffrey looked thirteen. Even though Joffrey was sixteen, and Cesare was fifteen.

Joffrey greeted her with a soft smile, "My lady. It's a pleasure to have you in my presence"

Sansa giggled and bowed her head, "Thank you, My Prince. It's such a pleasure and an honour to have you here in Winterfell. Are you enjoying the North?"

Joffrey shrugged, "A little," he said, "It's not like the South, I miss the warmth. It's much colder here, much bitterer"

"That's why the word winter is in the name, My Prince…" Cesare said mockingly, almost like he was mocking her tone, and how she spoke, but Sansa waved it off; maybe he just had a long trip, she thought, it was a month long journey after all, so she forgave him.

"Very funny," Joffrey said, taking a sip of wine, "This is my lovely brother, Cesare, if you didn't already know"

"Yes," she said, "it's nice to finally speak with you"

"Feeling is mutual, my lady" he sighed, taking yet another sip of wine.

"Maybe you should ease up on the wine, dear brother," Joffrey said, "you said you hated the taste ten minutes ago…"

"That I did," Cesare rasped, "it's bitter-sweet, but I can't get enough of the damn thing…"

"I can ask my father if we have any left," Sansa said, "So you can bring it back home"

"I'd like that" Cesare said, finally smiling; it was a nice smile—nicer than his brothers—it was the kind of smile that can win a girl over in an instant, and make her weak to her knees. Sansa noticed how handsome he really was, and how her mind kept thinking about him instead of Joff. But no, she couldn't think about Cesare like that. She was—probably—going to wed Joffrey, not Cesare! Even her mother once said that she should never like the younger brother, "It's the golden rule, Sansa" her mother said.

"But what about you and father?" Sansa asked, "He was younger than Brandon Stark"

Catelyn chewed her lip, "But Brandon was dead, that doesn't count…"

"Yes, it does" Sansa said in a persistent tone, "Father was the younger one, and you married him. So what you just said wasn't right"

"Go to your chambers Sansa," Catelyn shook her head.

"I need some air, I'll be back soon" Joffrey announced, leaving.

"So…" Cesare rasped.

Sansa hummed, rubbing her cold shoulders.

"I guess I'll see you again when you arrive at the capital…"

"Huh?" Sansa asked, "They haven't decided yet."

"Oh please," Cesare took another sip of wine, his face scrunching at the bitter-sweet taste that he loved so much, "My father had you two betrothed even before he told your father. He only came here because he knew that you'll throw a huge feast for him. My father would never refuse to go to a feast with an abundance of free food, wine, and women to roughly kiss and grope. This, My Lady, is paradise to him"

Sansa burst out into laughter and Cesare scrunched his nose, laughing too.