I avoided Lady Astor that morning. She looked to do the same.

Robb would point out different bits of land as we rode. He told the history of how Winterfell came to be to Lady Fresca as she didn't grow up with the stories like Lady Astor.

Suddenly, the quiet voice of Lady Astor springs into the wistful conversation between my brother and Lady Fresca, almost so sudden as to make my horse buck from the unfamiliar voice.

"Would it be okay if we stopped? I'm feeling a bit unwell." She says from behind me on her horse. I immediately stopped and watched as she dismounted her steed.

"What's wrong?" Robb asked before I got the chance to, my voice curled in my throat like a dying plant in winter.

"I didn't sleep much, I'm afraid. My head has grown light." She stared at the ground, missing everyone's worried faces, my own included. She looks up, straight at me, and I see the green of her cheeks before I see the contents of our breakfast on the ground.

Her handmaiden was quick to join her side. I was down from my horse and to her side as well. I watch her closely, my hand pushed the fallen red curls from her shoulder to rest on her back and away from the sickness. It was quick and almost too easy to ignore but the thought of her silk-like strands entwined with my fingertips was as much prevalent in my mind as the knowledge that I had touched her, a highborn, without her permission. Instead, I focus on keeping my feet light to be the net to catch her if she fell. Her body shook so violently and her skin grew paler as every last bit, down to the water from our cups, left her stomach and made home on the ground.

"My lady, could it have been the food?" Fresca says.

"You have been riding for days." Robb calls out as he hops down gracefully from his steed. "Sickness accompanies many men, strong soldiers even, on long trips." Robb quips as he walks over to our small gathering around Lady Astor. "Not to worry." He says, mostly to her handmaiden who watches Robb through tight eyes. "I am sure you will feel better soon."

I feel my brother's worried eyes watch my shielded face behind my black curls and turn to meet them. No words were needed, I knew just what my brother was thinking beneath those red curls. Bringing back a sick Lady Astor would not sit well with father, least of all Lady Catelyn. I would be sure to find the blame somehow in such a case.

Lady Astor only nods her head once before she sucks in a breath and stands with a curt thank you to her handmaiden and then her body turns to me and her eyes follow suit to look me in the eyes. I didn't hold them for longer than a breath, which I was finding hard to catch, as I found the King's Road to distract me.

She looks at me, and I expected her to yell, but instead she smiles the best she could.

"Thank you, Jon Snow." Her voice sounded so weak.

I felt bad for her.

"I think I'm fine now." With that she walks back to her horse, mounts him and waits for us to lead once again as if she hadn't taken sick on the King's Road.

I have to admit, she was strong.

/

We made it back home, to Winterfell, less than an hour later. The gates opened to let us in and I could see all the men in the courtyard staring at Lady Astor.

The lust in the eyes of everyone of them as she passed.

She was a Lady, not just a highborn, she deserved respect. However, I could do nothing about it, it wasn't my place to and when I looked back at her her eyes were not focused on the men but on the castle. She sat straight and proper as if the horse didn't sway her from her post.

"Wow, this is winterfell? It's nicer than your father said it is. He said it was-"

"Fresca, it is rude to speak of such matters within these walls. Know when to speak. We've talked about this." The playfulness in her voice was off putting.

I hadn't heard it before. She was always so composed like a true highborn always is. I could feel my lips lift from the corners as I listened. Maybe she wasn't as serious as I thought she was.

"You must meet our father before we show you around, Lady Fresca. You'll be happy to know it's been well kept." Robb smirks with a quick wink towards her.

It was always hard to tell if he was flirting with women or just being witty. But, from what he spoke of in our bedchamber last night I'd bet the former. It came naturally for Robb. His smile alone drew women in. Really, words were worthless for him, just something he was good at.

A girlish snort comes from Lady Fresca before she speaks in a flirtatious voice, "I look forward to touring your castle, my Lord."

"Fresca," Lady Astor retorts in shocked warning. "What have I told you about flirting with Lords?"

Lady Astor's attempt at speaking in hushed tones had little success as Robb and I both smile towards one another as her words fill our ears.

Moments later we all dismount our horses as the stable men guide them away back to the barns. Our guest pass ahead of me, following Robb, to meet with father. I stood where I was, about to go to the training yard to practice my bow arm when Lady Astor stops and turns to face me.

"You will not be joining us?" She asks, surprised.

I watch the smirk on her Handmaiden and My brother's faces before I try my hand at looking her.

"No." I say with my head low as I turn back around to face her properly. "I have finished my mission. I'm headed back to the training yard, my Lady."

Her eyes watched me for a long while, and I cursed my leather gloves that only made my hands sweat more.

"I thank you for escorting me and my handmaiden to your home safely." She smiles softly before giving a small nod.

I raised my brows at my brother who smiles as if he knows something I don't. In truth, when it came to women, that was true.

"Of course, my Lady. It was my pleasure." I give a small bow before I watch her walk away with my brother to our father.

I head for the training yard. The Lady still on my mind where she had been since we met three days ago. She had spoken to me and I hadn't returned in kind and I was sure she hated me after last night in front of the inn. But the smile on her face seemed genuine. She herself seemed as much. For all the stories about Stannis Baratheon, I was surprised she was as nice as she turned out to be. In all the stories of him he never sounded like an easy man to get on with. Was that why she said she didn't much care for what her family thought?

The training grounds where near abandoned when I had arrived. Even more now. Everyone was getting ready for the King's arrival. No one had time to train. There were preparations I had to conduct, like the cut I was to have this afternoon. In truth, I was avoiding it. My brother always said I loved my hair, and though I would never confirm or deny it to him, it was the truth.

I took care of it, and I agree with my brother I maintenance it like a woman would. But of course my brother wouldn't understand. He keeps it short. Better in battle, he says. Of course he's right, and maybe when I get to the wall I'll cut it, but for now the months spent growing it out where coming to an end. I would avoid it for as long as possible. Not too long as to make Lady Stark angry, however.

"So this is where you become a great swordsman?" I almost dropped my sword as Lady Astor's voice carried in the empty training grounds. "It's always much more lively back at Dragonstone."

I thought I had heard footsteps, but it didn't alert me. Knowing someone was here was not going to make me drop my sword, but Lady Astor was another story entirely. I gripped the hilt tighter to keep it in place. I didn't need to look like anymore than a fool to her. Much less an incompetent fool handling a sword.

"I don't think great would be the word for me, my Lady. My brother, Robb, yes."

"You always speak so highly of your brother? You two must be close." Her blue eyes sparkle as she stands next to the stable opposite of me.

She begins to walk closer and the grip on my sword slowly starts to slip. My hands are wet once again and I feel hot. Damn these nerves! I don't try to act this way. I wish I didn't. Why couldn't I have confidence around women, like my brother?

"Yes."

She smiled to the ground. Her hair fell in her face and I watched it sway in the wind before she tucks it behind her ear. My stomach felt twisted for some reason when I watched her. I could only describe her as elegant; she was highborn after all.

"Be honest with me, Jon Snow. Are you any good with that sword that you hold so tightly?"

I felt sick. She noticed. I look down at my hand that held my sword. I tried to loosen my grip to look more relaxed. I didn't want to show her how she made me feel. I didn't even understand it myself.

"I can handle my own." Would that be a good enough answer for a Lady?

"About last night, Jon." She says so suddenly my breath stops in my throat.

My eyes stared to the ground. I didn't expect her to bring it up. Really I didn't expect any of this from her. Why had she come to see me in the training grounds? Surely there is much to do for a Lady, such as herself, inside the castle.

"I apologize for leaving so abruptly. For being cold. It is just that," She stops her words in her throat as she caresses the wooden post beside her. She seemed uncomfortable with what she had to say. I stared on at her, giving her time to gather her thoughts. "I don't like the titles. Saying your last name is just a way to tell people what the circumstances of your birth were. It's the same when you can only address me as Lady before my name. Even Fresca shies away from simply speaking informally to me. It gets tiring. I thought you would agree."

She looks at me, with her blue eyes. I can tell that she's searching my own to see if she's right. Instead I look down. I would agree with her. I do. But that didn't change anything.

"I know it doesn't change anything." My head snaps up like Ghost's when I walk into the room, startled and curious. How did she know just what I was thinking? "It was silly of me to expect you to honor that wish. I'm sorry."

"You have-"

"Nothing to apologize for?" She says, catching my eye. The exact words once again sucked from my head into her mouth. I see her smirk. "Because I am a highborn?"

Her eyes scrutinize me, deciphering my silence. Her feet begin to slowly and almost in a snail's speed shuffle towards me, before clinging to the next post she passed inches away, as time seems to slow down around us.

"You must realize, Jon, that being highborn does not make me better or immune to mistakes." She looks away from my surprised face. "When I am wrong, I will apologize for it."

I didn't speak. What was I to say to her? She seemed content with the silence. It reminded me of myself. I liked to be surrounded in silence. To be able to think without distraction. But I was usually alone when I did this. Having Lady Astor here was making that difficult. But, I suppose it wouldn't matter. Whether she was here or inside the castle walls she would still be in my thoughts.

"Your father seems like a great man." She begins as she takes a step towards me.

I try to keep still as not to alert her to my nervousness as every crunch beneath her feet signaled every inch between us slowly disappearing.

"He is." I admit. My father was a great man. The best man I knew. He welcomed me into his heart when he could have easily shut me out.

"I assume he treats you well?"

I didn't expect her to ask. Why would it matter if he treated me well, to her?

"Yes."

"And what of Lady Stark?"

She watches me closely. I refused to look at her. It was a sore subject, I suppose. It also didn't matter how Lady Stark treated me. She was within her right to do so.

"Ah." She says as her own head falls.

She continues to slowly glide across the small stable grounds, running her hand over objects as she passed until she stops before the bow and arrow that leaned against the wooden post.

"I've always wanted to use one. Father didn't like the thought of it. Mother liked it even less. They wanted me to be a lady. I hardly even know how to ride Leo." She turns to me. "Would you teach me how, Jon?"

I couldn't refuse her. I didn't know if I wanted to. However, spending more time with her could prove to be a disaster. I can't control myself around her as well as I can others. Besides, defying her mother and father's wishes, if it were to ever get back to them, wouldn't look very good.

"Don't worry about my parents. I want to learn."

How did she do that? Were the thoughts in my head so obvious to her? Were they written on my face? In the crease of my brow?

"It's okay to deny my request, Jon. I will not force you."

"It's not that." I manage to answer. I share my sight between the ground and Lady Astor. "My younger sister, Arya, would be a better teacher. She has the best bow arm."

Arya was a young girl, but if Lady Astor wanted a real teacher, it wasn't me.

"The little girl who likes to run the halls?" I nod swiftly. "Do you think you can do anything better than any other, Jon?"

Could I? I never thought much of it. I always just assumed...that my siblings were naturally better than me at everything. Although I did think myself a good swordsman I didn't dare boast like my brother would if asked. But I knew that wasn't what Lady Astor wanted to hear.

"No." I admit as my head falls.

"I think you're far too modest. I was watching you, before I spoke."

I waited for her to continue but she must be finished. I watch her as she picks up the bow from the ground. It sat awkwardly in her arms. I wished to help her, but I couldn't do much without touching her and I had already overstepped when she had been sick earlier.

"I didn't thank you earlier." She says as she tries to manage the bow. "For keeping my hair back. I would have been embarrassed to meet the Lord of Winterfell with breakfast in my hair." She laughs but the sound is almost too quiet and carries away with the wind far too easily.

I felt a smile on my lips at the sound. It was beautiful. It matched her well.

"It's no bother, My Lady."

I hear her softly snort and raise my brow at her turned head.

"My uncle, the King, is to arrive tomorrow."

I nod before I remember she is turned away from me and can not see. I brush off my small embarrassment but shifting my stands and silently clearing my throat.

"Yes."

"Have you ever met the King, Jon?"

I couldn't recall a time that I had. I'm sure I would remember something as important as meeting the King. Unless I was too young.

"Not that I can remember."

"Well, I'm sure you've heard the stories about him. But, I have to tell you, he's a better man than most give him credit for. My father included." Her last words are just as soft and easy for the wind to carry. This time, however, because they were taboo to speak.

I wondered why she was telling me this. I figured she was just talking. Maybe she needed someone to listen. I can imagine being an only child must be lonely, even if you were given handmaidens.

"Were you aware that the Boltons were to come this afternoon?" She suddenly asks.

I didn't know much outside of what gossip I heard behind the castle walls.

"No, I didn't."

"My…" She sighs. I saw her shoulders slump in a way no Lady's ever does. I was curious why she grew sad so quickly. But I figured I'd better not ask. "Ramsay Snow, of house Bolton, will be joining us."

"You know him?"

Her face was grim and far away. I wondered what could bring that upon her face at the mention of Ramsay Snow.

"All too well."

I didn't question her further. It wasn't my place. I didn't suppose she wanted to talk much about it despite bringing it up.

"The Boltons are a strong house. They would be good to have on our side one day...at least that's what I've always been told."

I nod for her to go on. Her shy smile made her look more girlish than womanly. It was then I realized I didn't even know her age. But with that smile, she must be younger than Robb and I.

Lady Astor began to walk closer to me. I stood my ground and kept my composure, surprisingly. I watch her closely as she stops in front of me, bow in hand, and a serious look on her young face.

"You will teach me then?"

It took me a minute to gather what she was talking about. I looked down at the space between us and gulp rather embarrassingly at how little space was left. I also glanced at the bow and without much thought I look back at her ice colored eyes and agree.

I regret it right after, but I can't go back on my word. That wasn't the man I wanted to be.

"Good, we shall practice tomorrow, yes?"

I give her another nod, unable to find my voice with her so close. I could smell her hair from this distance. I felt perverted for thinking it smelled good, feminine. It was the smell I would think of when I thought of her now. Gods, I was unwell. Or was that normal for men to think, even about Ladies?

"I best get ready to meet my uncle then. I'm sure you too must be getting your affairs in order?"

I clear my throat rather unbecoming as I try to push the simple words out.

"Yes."

She turns on her heels gracefully and her dress brushes against my leg. I swallow the knives in my throat and watch her as she makes to exit the grounds. She stops abruptly at the entrance, turns her head and smiles back at me.

"Thank you, Jon."

She was gone before I could push the knives down far enough to speak. My words fell deaf in the air, "You're...welcome."

I, Jon Snow, was a fool.