Myrcella slept in his bed that night, and he slept on the floor after he had given her something to eat. She did not run, like she promised. Of course, that did not stop him from putting a guard on her. He needed to find somewhere better to put her, but if she were in one of the tents with the men, she would probably be raped, and if she were to put her with any man he trusted she would probably be bound again.

"You're trying to keep her safe?" Roose Bolton demanded. "She's a Lannister."

"She is not unlike my sister, either." Robb replied. "She is an innocent. She didn't do anything."

"Then why was she in a war camp?" Bolton demanded. "She knows more than she lets on."

"Then what is wrong with getting her to trust us? What is wrong with us convincing her that we trust her?" Robb asked. "She gets comfortable, and she lets things slip."

Bolton nodded. "That is not too bad."

Robb began to walk away, but Bolton caught his arm. "Just keep your cock in your trousers. Whatever you do to her, it is sure that they will do to your sister, since you care for her so."

"She is safe from me. Name one other man who we can say the same about."

Bolton was silent.

"That is what I thought." Robb pulled his arm from Bolton's grip.

XXX

"I want to see my uncle." Myrcella told the guard, though she did not stand from her chair in Robb's tent. "He will want to see that I am safe."

"The king wouldn't like it."

Myrcella knew better than to argue that Robb was not a king; her brother was. That would not make her any friends, not here.

"What harm can I do? You will be able to hear our conversation. I just want him to know that I am safe."

"You may ask his grace when you see him again, but I'm afraid there is nothing I can help you with."

The guard was not much for conversation, which made her bored most of the day, since she had nothing to do. She mostly asked to walk around, wanting to stretch the stiff muscles. She was allowed to do that, at least. Though when she was looked at, she wished to hide the bruises.

She knew she was beautiful-her mother was the most beautiful woman in Westeros, and everyone told her she followed in her mother's footsteps in looks. She didn't know until now that it was painfully obvious who her mother was. She had seen bruises on her mother before...from her father.

Myrcella was never stupid, though she did understand more in the last two years. She knew at some point of her life-some point soon-she would be married off to a man for an alliance for her family.

She hoped her match would be better than her mother's-better than Sansa's-but she knew in her heart that it would be just as bad as theirs. If she was lucky, her husband would probably ignore her for the most part. That is all she could hope for.

The moment she saw Robb late that evening she stood. "I would like to see my uncle."

That caught him off guard. "What?"

"I want to see my uncle. He is worried for me." Myrcella told him, her hands clasped firmly behind her. "I won't cause trouble. I just want him to see that I am okay. And I want to see that he is."

"And what am I supposed to get in return?" Robb asked.

"Gratitude." She told him. "Gratitude I may be able to return one day."

Robb nodded. "Fine, you may see him." He turned to the guard. "I can take it from here." Robb knew she wasn't going to run-not tonight at least.

The guard bowed before leaving them.

"Thank the gods. Not much for conversation is he?" Myrcella said, as if she were talking to a friend. She knew the way to make friends was to treat them like one. Friends could help her get out of tough spots. Friends could keep her safe.

"Had a tough day?"

"In comparison to you, probably not." She said. "But it was rather dull with him for company."

"And you can talk to me?" Robb asked.

"I'd like to think so." She told him. "You're honestly the only one here from my past that will look me in the eye."

"You know my mother, and Theon." He said.

She shrugged slowly. "Yeah, but I guess you remind me of your sister."

That surprised him, and that was clear on his face. She answered without being asked to.

"She loved me when we first met, I knew she did. She was even nice after her father died...of course I see now that it was because my mother made her, but I still like to believe it's because she liked me. I mean, a week after your father's execution she began to look at me again."

"And what have you ever done for her?" Robb asked. "For either of my sisters?"

"Nothing." She said. "I know that I have done nothing for either of them. I am sorry for it. Unlike many I admit when I am wrong. I was wrong to be naïve."

"And what has brought you to this conclusion?" He asked.

"Being held prisoner myself. Having my life completely at someone else's mercy. You could have me beaten, raped, and killed, and still march on. No one would find out I was dead for a long time. Maybe long enough to see the end of the war-however it turns out." She said.

He paused for a moment. "We march tomorrow."

"May I ask if I will be on foot or on horseback?"

"Horseback, but not alone." He told her. "It would be too easy for you to try to leave on horseback."

"Have you decided who I will be with?"

"No. It will be decided in the morning."

Myrcella nodded. "All right. Now what would you like to talk about?"

XXX

"Where am I to go?" Myrcella asked as she pulled on her boots the next morning.

"You ride with me." Robb decided. He rather liked the girl-though he wasn't exactly sure why. She was nice, she was funny. She had bright green eyes and pale gold hair, and a smile that could spur a thousand soldiers to fight for her.

And she smiled when he told her that. "At least I will have good company."

Myrcella was truly happy that it would be him in front of her during the ride. She liked him, he was nice to talk to-even if he was holding her prisoner. Sometimes she forgot that was a complication. Other times it was much too obvious. Like when she moved to walk beside him there would always be a hand to either push her forward or hold her back, though it was never his. She would not admit to anyone when she got home that she liked him.

A part of her thought it was just residual from a few years ago; she fancied him then, too. But she was a woman now, no longer a girl. She knew Robb noticed as well. She caught him looking at her body more than once, but she wrote that off on being in a war camp-where women were usually scarce. She knew she was untouchable to him, and she knew he knew it too. He had to not touch her.

But she still rode behind him, holding onto him rather tightly. She didn't enjoy riding behind anyone. After a couple hours of riding, she didn't enjoy it when she was by herself either.

A part of her wished he wasn't wearing armor-he was so hard with the leather and metal. It reminded her of the kingsguard what have pulled her in front of them on horseback to get her out of perceived danger. But she did notice some things.

"There are Frey men here." She said, seeing the Frey sigil.

"Yes."

"I did not think he would take a side in this war." Myrcella said.

"He didn't want to." Robb said.

"What changed his mind?" Myrcella was honestly curious.

"Doesn't matter."

She knew she should let it drop, maybe ask him later when people were not around. He was more talkative that way anyway. She stayed quiet most of the journey. She kept looking behind her, to the thousands of men that rode and marched behind them. She knew somewhere near the back Jaime would be in a cage.

Some of her wondered why she wasn't in a cage as well.