Chapter 4: The Princess' Arrival

Cassana had pulled back from the window as soon as they had entered Winter Town, the small city surrounding Winterfell was filled with people lining the streets. They probably couldn't remember that last time a Royal Tour had made it to the North. She allowed herself a small smirk when she peeked through the curtains and saw their gasping astonishment at the huge royal party, and their pointing hands indicating the gilded wheelhouse she travelled in.

"Cassana?"

"Yes?" she turned to look down at her little sister.

"I'm sorry." Myrcella looked very nervous as she stood before Cassana, twisting her hands awkwardly in front of her.

Her earlier annoyance had dwindled following her conversation with her mother, and looking at Myrcella's downcast, nervous, face made her instantly regret her earlier actions.

"Oh, Myrcella," Cassana drew her into a hug, "I'm the one who is sorry."

Her little sister was beaming by the time she took a step back, "It's it exciting? We're finally here!"

Cassana half winced, half smiled, very nearly relapsing into annoyance at her little sister. Myrcella and Tommen were the sweetest children Cassana had ever met, and she loved her siblings dearly. However, their innocence had left them somewhat oblivious to the reason for her recent mood swings. Oh, they definitely noticed that she was more easily irritated in recent weeks, but they had no inclination as to what the cause may be.

"Yes, exciting…" she muttered under her breath.

"And you're getting married in a few days! Oh! I can't wait!" Myrcella was all but bouncing in a most un-princess like manner, "Are you excited about that too?"

"A little," Cassana replied.

"Only a little? But it's your wedding! Your dress is so pretty, and you're going to look beautiful, and your husband will look handsome, and the ceremony will be beautiful, and then there's the feast-"

"Myrcella? Come here darling, let me fix your hair before we arrive at the castle."

Cassana shot her mother a grateful look as her little sister scampered over to have her hair fixed. It was fine really, but Cersei must have seen the growing agitation on Cassana's face, and elected to save the wheelhouse from another royal outburst. Cassana was thankful that her mother had done so, she would need these last few minutes to calm herself down, and present a proper face to the Starks and their household.

Not that she was worried about making a bad first impression on them. She was Princess Cassana, she was royalty. She felt like it was virtually impossible for them to not take her in with favour as soon as they met her.

Still, it wouldn't do to emerge from the carriage scowling. She schooled her expression carefully, drawing down a mask of calm, something which she had unknowingly copied from her mother. Glancing across the wheelhouse, she saw that her mother was endeavouring to do the same.

She knew that there was little love lost between her mother's family and the Starks, in spite of her father's close bond to Lord Stark. The Stark-Lannister rivalry had been going on for generations, as far as Cassana was aware. It wasn't a rivalry to the extent of war between them, more… a longstanding dislike and sense of mistrust.

The Starks were just so unshakable in their morals, and their honour, their sense of justice. They set high standards for themselves, and expected everyone to agree with them, acting put out when the rest of the world didn't comply. It was a lovely ideal, Cassana had to admit, but it was shockingly naïve for such an old House. It was for that reason that Eddard Stark would make such an unsuitable hand. Yet, despite many objections from his family, her father still intended to name him.

Cassana jerked a little in surprise as the wheelhouse came to a stop. They must have arrived in the courtyard of Winterfell. Myrcella had scrambled back over to her big sister's side, as the ladies in the wheelhouse began to make ready to desend. She reached out to peek through the curtains, but Cassana pushed her hand away.

"But I'm curious!" the little girl protested.

"No, Myrcella," Cassana chastised, "We wait until we exit the wheelhouse, then you can look around. But please, remember that you are a princess, and don't gawk, it's most undignified of a royal family member."

Myrcella pouted, but nodded in acquiescence. Both girls stood and let cloaks be draped around their shoulders. The air outside would be more chilled than the warmed wheelhouse. Cassana stroked the fur collar of her cloak's hood gently. It was one of her many new ones, made for her in the Capitol and on the road so that she would have a Northern wardrobe ready for her years here.

Corrina, her head lady-in-waiting, came forward to fasten the cloak securely around Cassana, smiling encouragingly at her.

"It will be okay, I'm sure we'll get used to it."

Cassana smiled tightly in response, but gave no verbal reply. Corrina had been her friend since childhood, and had been her first lady-in-waiting. They had grown up together, and Cassana trusted her more than she did anyone outside of her family. But all the same, she didn't trust her words in that moment.

The wheelhouse door was opened, and her mother was the first one to descend the steps to the hard ground of the Winterfell courtyard. Cassana followed, keeping her head high, her eyes forward, looking everything inch the princess as she took her place next to her mother.

She had told Myrcella not to gawk, and she followed her own advice, but had to confess to a small temptation to look around more than a simple cursory glance. The entire Stark family and their household was knelt before her father. Cassana counted the children off in age order, but found that she'd forgotten the name of the smallest child, the one standing next to Lady Stark. Was it… Rick…Rickard? No, that had been their grandfather. Gods, she'd simply have to avoid addressing them by name now, so that they didn't notice.

Cassana watched her father dismount, cringing slightly with embarrassment as he did so. Why did he have to be so fat? He was the King! Would it kill him to look the part a little more? He already didn't act dignified, stately, or in any way befitting someone of his status, but he could at least have looked the part. Dimly, she remembered what he had looked like in her childhood. He had been putting on weight even then, but he hadn't had nearly as much as he did now. He had still faintly resembled the handsome man people spoke of as the hero for rebelling against the Targaryens.

Still, looks aside, he was the King of Westeros. He stopped in front of his old friend, and every so slightly gestured for him to rise. The rest of the family and household followed their Lord as he responded to his King's unspoken command, and Cassana got her first look at Robb Stark, her future husband.

He was handsome, very handsome, she realised with a start. His light brown hair was cut into a close crop of curls, and he had been freshly clean-shaven for the occasion. In the back of her mind, Cassana thought that a beard might better suit his face, make him look more manly and serious. Even at the distance she could see that his eyes were a bright shade of blue. It was when she noticed this that she noticed he was looking directly at her.

Well, that was fair she supposed, she had been staring at him, and it was the first time they had seen each other. Still, did he have to make such a show of obviously looking at her? At least she had had the decency to subtly assess him while not blatantly staring. She began to find it unnerving, but refused to be the first one to drop her gaze. She tilted her chin a little and told herself that the flush in her cheeks was only from the chill air, and had no effect whatsoever on her royal dignity.

"You got fat," her father accused his old friend after giving him a once over.

Cassana thoughts that was a fairly hypocritical remark for her father to make, and flicked her gaze to his own distended belly. Lord Stark too, gave the King's royal stomach a pointed glance, which caused the two men to stare each other off for a few moments. Cassana hoped that her father's temper would arise, they would argue, and they could leave the North without either naming Lord Stark the new Hand, or her marrying Robb.

But no, the two men began to chuckle, and embraced each other warmly, like the old friends that they were.

"Nine years, why haven't I seen you?" her father demanded; holding Lord Stark at arm's length and appraising him.

"I've been guarding the North for you, your grace," Lord Stark replied with a smile.

Her father scoffed slightly, but stepped back to release his friend, and embrace Lady Stark with a familiar call of "Cat!" and giving her a hug as well. He ruffled up the hair of the youngest Stark child, whose name still eluded Cassana's mind, before moving down the line.

"You must be Robb," her father clapped the eldest Stark boy on the shoulder, and held out his other arm to gesture at Cassana, "The lucky man engaged to my daughter."

Robb smiled and nodded, "Yes, your grace."

"Cassana!" her father shouted jovially, "Come over here girl, come meet your future husband."

Cassana shot her mother a look for confirmation. Protocol demanded that the King be introduced first, then the Queen, then the Crown Prince, and then the rest of the siblings; clearly her father had no trouble in doing away with those little traditions however. Her mother gave a slight inclination of her head, and gestured slightly for Cassana to step forwards.

She shook her hair back from her face, and followed her father's request on the approval of her mother. Stepping out of line with her siblings, she crossed the short distance to the Stark family. But, if her father wouldn't follow protocol, she would. She first stopped in front of Lord and Lady Stark. Lord Stark took her hand and raised it to his lips in greeting, while his wife curtsied beside him.

"Princess," they both greeted.

They smiled politely as they did so, but did Cassana see further calculation behind Lady Stark's eyes? Or had she just imagined it? Was Catelyn Stark sizing up her husband's future wife? No, she must have imagined it. Cassana was a princess, she was royal blood, any House was lucky to receive her as a daughter-in-law. Well, they should be at any rate.

Cassana steeled herself, and moved towards Robb Stark. Her father put an arm around her shoulders, an intimate gesture that she was no longer accustomed to receiving from him, and it made her a little uncomfortable. She stiffened under his hand, but if he noticed, he made no sign of it.

"Here she is, my beautiful daughter," Robert announced loudly.

Cassana winced inside, but kept her expression calm. She wasn't used to this kind of behaviour from her father, he barely noticed her at all, and his sudden overly affectionate displays were unsettling to her. She preferred the cordial relationship that they had shared for many years. She was used to that, it was her comfort zone.

"She is indeed beautiful," Robb agreed.

"Lord Robb," she greeted formally, "So good to meet you at last."

"Princess Cassana," he took her hand and raised it to his lips.

Cassana was used to this greeting from men, it was either this or a bow. Unlike most men however, Robb did not lower his gaze, but rather kept his eyes locked on Cassana's. The smile he wore throughout the whole act mingled charm with a hint of rakishness, and he held on to her hand for just a little longer than would have been appropriate, had he not been her intended.

Thankfully, her mother stepped forwards to present herself to the Starks, giving Cassana the chance to pull herself a few steps back from Robb, and re-join her siblings standing in line.

"He's so handsome," Myrcella whispered softly to her big sister.

"Shh, Myrcella," Cassana whisper-hissed back, worried that if they could hear the younger Stark girl whispering to her sister about Uncle Tyrion, that Robb would hear her little sister gossip-praising him. She stole one glance back in Robb's direction, to see if he had heard. If he had, he gave no sign, he only continued to gaze at her. That was getting unsettling now. Cassana fixed her eyes forwards, and kept her royal dignity silent.

"Ned, take me to your crypts," her father suddenly commanded gruffly, "I want to pay my respects."

"We've been riding for a month, my love. Surely the dead can wait," Cersei's voice was icier than the Northern air.

But Robert only turned and began to walk away, "Now."

Ahh, of course. Lyanna Stark. The long dead woman had been the first and largest thorn in her parents' marriage. No matter how many years went by, her father refused to forget his first fiancée, the woman he had started a war for. She had often heard him talk of her, often whilst drinking. Sometimes he would sadly lament her loss, or he would grow angry, and curse that she had been 'taken' from him, curse that he was married to Cersei and not her.

Cassana hated him for having these raves, especially when her mother was in the room. Couldn't he see that he had a beautiful wife who was a good Queen? But no, to him, Cersei had never been good enough to live up to the pristine image of Lyanna Stark. Cassana hated the woman, even though she had died before Cassana's own birth, she hated her for what she had done to her family. Because of Lyanna, her father had never loved his wife, he had never connected with his children, he had never been able to move on from the past.

Still, Cassana supposed she had one thing to thank Lyanna for. Without her, Robert would never have fought his rebellion against the Targaryens. He would never have dethroned the dragons, and taken the Iron Throne for himself. And if he hadn't done that, then Cassana wouldn't have been a princess.

"Where's the Imp?" the insistent whisper sounded loudly through the courtyard.

"Would you please, shut up," Sansa Stark at least looked embarrassed by her sister's inappropriate, and not all that quite, whisper. She held herself high, Cassana noted, and kept a calm expression on her face, except when telling her sister off. Perhaps class in the North wasn't entirely non-existent after all.

From the corner of her eye, she saw her mother whispering softly to her Uncle Jaimie about something. When he remounted his horse and rode back the way they had come, Cassana guessed that he had been sent to search for her letch of an Uncle Tyrion. She wrinkled her nose unconsciously, he was no doubt getting drunk in a brothel somewhere, sullying the family name.

"You must be tired after your long journey," Lady Stark spoke into the awkward silence that had followed the abrupt departure of the King and Lord Stark, "Come, rooms have been prepared, and I am sure that you will all want to rest yourselves before the feast at sundown."

At her words, the formality in the courtyard seemed to dissipate a little. People began to move around from both sides, helping to carry baggage, making their way towards the castle, greetings between the less nobles. Cassana felt herself relax now that the initial greetings were over. She could just relax alone in her room until more forced socialising at the feast.

"Princess?" Robb stepped up to her, and gave her a bow that caused Myrcella to break into giggles.

"Yes?" she inquired, retreating behind her royalty so as not to seem as nervous as she was.

"I was thinking, since it has been so long since we wrote to one another, perhaps we should begin to get reacquainted. Would you let me show you the castle? Chaperoned, of course," he added hastily.

"Thank you for your kind offer, Lord Robb, but all of the ladies in my retinue are tired from the long journey, as am I. Perhaps tomorrow, you can show me your home," Cassana replied with diplomatic smoothness.

"I'm not tired!" Myrcella piped up.

This earned her a charming grin from the heir to Winterfell, which made the little girl all but bounce and blush on the spot. Cassana found herself less charmed by her little sister's comment. Why couldn't Myrcella pick up on the fact that Cassana really wasn't ready to get close to Robb yet? Of course she would, it was inevitable considering their impending marriage, but couldn't Myrcella give Cassana one more day of freedom before she had to pretend to enjoy his company every day for the rest of her life?

"Sadly, I am. And you know that you will need to rest this afternoon if you want to be able to stay a little later at the feast tonight." She had been addressing the both of them, but gave her little sibling a pointed look with her last sentence. Myrcella pouted, but conceded to Cassana's wishes with a small nod.

"Tomorrow it will be then." Robb gave no indication that her desire to delay was of any upset to him, as he bowed to her and her family, before turning and striding back over to his friends.

Cassana watched him go with an assessing eye. His stride was confident, the way he carried himself manly and sure, yet he managed to still retain that air of boyish charm when he spoke to her. He had been perfectly polite towards her, had made no inappropriate comments or suggestions. All in all, he was surprisingly living up to his reputation as a charmer, but a respectful one, not a letch like her father.

His friends laughed as Robb arrived in their midst once more. Several of them swarmed him, giving him claps on the back, and bringing hi close to whisper advice or questions in his ear. Some tried to shoot unseen looks in Cassana's direction, their attempts at subtlety failing miserably. One pointed her out to Robb again, making him turn to face in her direction with a smile.

Cassana hated being forced to drop her gaze by people below her, but she was made very uncomfortable by the attention of Robb and his group. Thankfully, she was saved by the excuse of turning to the servant who approached her mother in order to show the royal family to their rooms. And, since the way into the keep lead away from Robb, she did not turn back to look at him again.