"You're really going?" Edrick asked, his voice cracking under the strain of holding in the tears that threatened to spill out of his sea-green eyes. He was gazing up at her, a crease between his eyebrows. Raya felt a wave of sadness as the looked down at her nine-year-old brother, who was wearing a heavy fur cloak that made him seem even smaller than he already was.

"I'm really going," she confirmed. For a moment, Edrick said nothing, and his gaze shifted from hers so that he was staring at the ground. But then he threw his arms around her, and she knelt down to return his hug, as a fresh wave of sorrow swept over her. They were standing in the main courtyard by the South Gate. Raya's family was standing in a line beside Edrick, and behind them were three members of her father's kingsguard, a group of soldiers from their houseguard, and beyond them a crowd of villagers. All were there to see Raya off. In front of the South Gate, she knew, her carriage sat in wait, along with a group of soldiers made up of members of the kingsguard and the houseguard, and her father, who would accompany her to King's Landing.

"I'll miss you, little brother." She murmured into Edrick's ear. He didn't respond, but pulled away and, shooting her a quick, sad look, went to stand beside their mother. Jon quickly took his place, stepping forwards so he was standing in front of her. He was two years her junior, but already he was quite a bit taller than her, his brown hair wavy and slightly dishevelled from the wind that was blowing over the walls and through the courtyard. He didn't say anything, but pulled her into a hug.

"Send me a raven when you get to King's Landing, will you?" He said once they had parted. "Let me know how it is."

"I will," she said, but she couldn't help the rush of envy that swept through her at her younger brother's words. He would one day become the King in the North, and would live and die in Winterfell. That fact was undeniable. He would marry, but it wouldn't change anything about his future: his wife would join him in Winterfell, as Queen in the North, and they would live out their days as such.

"You know it won't be the same here without you," he added, almost as if he had sensed what she had been thinking. She shifted her attention back to him and saw the sadness in his gaze, but it was the guilt hidden beneath that sparked a memory, one she had forgotten until then, of a time when they were younger and more carefree.

"I don't understand," Jon said, staring at their father in confusion. They were standing in the courtyard, and Jon was holding a wooden sword in one of his hands, his other wiping the sweat off of his forehead. He had just finished a lesson with Ser Arwyck, the castle's master-at-arms. "Why can't Raya learn how to fight as well?"

"Because ladies don't need to learn how to fight," Eddard said. "They have their guards to protect them and, when they grow older, their husbands."

"But what if I don't want a husband?" Raya cut in before Jon, who still looked confused, could say anything. Eddard looked down at her, smiling, and ruffled her hair.

"You're young, Raya," he chuckled. "You don't want one now, but you will soon."

"But what if I don't?"

"Every lady wants a husband, little princess."

"Not me!" Raya insisted, gazing up at her father beseechingly.

"When Raya gets a husband, then will she become Queen in the North?" Jon cut in, and Eddard swung his gaze towards his son.

"No, Jon," he said. "You're my heir. You will become King in the North when my reign is over."

"But… That doesn't make sense." Jon said slowly, his eyebrows bunched together. "She's older than me. Why can't she be queen?"

"You are my firstborn son," Eddard said, and there was edge of impatience to his voice. "You remember this from your lessons with Maester Brishin. The firstborn son is the heir, not the firstborn daughter. Raya will marry a lord and become a lady of a wonderful castle in another place."

"But I don't want to leave Winterfell!" Raya exclaimed, her eyes wide.

"I don't want Raya to leave either," Jon added. "Who will I play with when she's gone?"

"You can play with Edrick."

"But he's so little."

"He'll be bigger then." Eddard responded, smiling. "And Raya, it will be an adventure, moving away from Winterfell. You love adventures!"

"Not this one…" Raya grumbled. It didn't seem at all fair to her. Why should Jon be allowed to stay in Winterfell while she was sent far away? "Would I be able to stay here if I were a boy?"

"Well… yes."

"I wish I had been born a boy, then." She grumbled, gazing down at her hands, which she knew were smooth and soft compared to her younger brother's rough, callused ones. But then a sudden flash of hope welled up in her, and she gazed excitedly at her father, who was watching her with an unreadable expression on his face. "Could Maester Brishin turn me into a boy? Maesters learn magic at the Citadel, don't they? He could turn me into one!"

Jon had been watching Raya, and as she spoke he too looked excitedly at their father.

"Could she become a boy, father? Really?"

"No," Eddard said, laughing. "Maester Brishin can't turn Raya into a boy."

"Why not?" Raya asked, scowling.

"Because it's not possible," he responded, amusement dancing in his grey eyes, when one of his kingsguard stepped up behind him.

"Your Grace?" The knight asked, bowing as the king turned to him.

"What is it, Ser Elyn?"

"Queen Ferrah is requesting your presence," the knight responded. Eddard nodded in his direction, then turned back to Raya and Jon.

"I must go." He said, and he ruffled Jon's hair and rested a hand briefly on Raya's shoulder before he followed Ser Elyn through the doors of the castle and out of sight. Once they were gone, Jon turned to Raya. There was a crease between his eyebrows, and a frown on his face.

"I wish you were father's heir," he said suddenly, unexpectedly. Raya stared at him, confused.

"Don't you want to be king?" She asked. Jon shrugged, but it was a while before he responded.

"I just think you would be good at it, that's all," he said simply. "I don't see why someone who would be good at ruling shouldn't be allowed to."

Ever since that day, there had been something unspoken that had stood between them. Raya loved her brother, and the fact that he would become King in the North even though she was older than him didn't lessen her affection for him, though she suspected that he had always felt guilty about it. But there were times, when she had been feeling especially angry or frustrated, where she had spoken a few choice words to her brother, words that she assured him afterwards she hadn't meant, but that she knew she always had, though not towards him. And ever since that day, whether he was receiving private lessons from their father on how to be a good and honourable king, or whether he was learning how to fight in the yard and not under the cover of darkness, like Raya was made to, the distance between them had widened ever so slightly.

"See you, Raya," Jon's words brought her attention back to the present and she watched regretfully as he returned to stand beside Edrick. She would miss him, she realized. She really would miss him.

Her mother stepped forwards now, and there was a small, sad smile on her face. It was her mother that Raya had gotten her beauty from. Eddard was a true Stark, strong and wild-looking, but Ferrah Manderly was striking: long and slender, with large, blue-green doe eyes and a thin, pale face framed by waist-length chestnut-brown hair.

"Farewell, sweetheart," she said, and there were tears brimming in her eyes as she wrapped Raya up in a tight embrace. Raya returned the hug, and she felt a jolt of pain run through her at the thought of leaving her mother. She knew that she had been a difficult daughter, always refusing to use her manners or act at all ladylike, and had lost count of the number of times her mother had lost her temper at her. But despite her stubborn refusal to act as she was supposed to, her and her mother had always remained close. Raya was the only princess to the Throne of Winter after all, and they shared the type of bond particularly special to a mother and her only daughter.

"Goodbye, mother," Raya whispered, for she was afraid that if she spoke any louder her voice would crack, betraying the emotions she was trying so hard to keep in check. She rarely cried, for she hated seeming weak. Even today, she refused to betray the fact that saying farewell to her family, her city, her kingdom, was just about destroying her.

At last her mother released her and stepped back into line, and now Raya said farewell to the friends she had made, to her ladies-in-waiting that she would be leaving behind, and to those of her father's guard that wouldn't be escorting her to King's Landing.

When she had said goodbye to them all, she turned and made her way to where her carriage was waiting by the South Gate. Her father was standing by the door, and opened it for her as she approached. With one foot on the step to the carriage, she turned around and gazed for a final time at the Great Keep, the Great Hall, the Bell, Library, and Broken towers, and, in the distance, the very top of the weirwood, which she could just see over the walls surrounding the godswood. Her heart gave a terrible twist of pain at the sight of those blood-red leaves, which were swaying steadily in the cold breeze. Though she had already said her farewells to the godswood, it wasn't any easier to look at it and realize that it might be for the last time. So she stared long and hard at the portion of weirwood that she could see, drawing up the image of the twisted, tortured face etched into it, the lines of scarlet sap that trailed beneath it like tears, and the feeling of its smooth trunk, which in all her years she had run her hands along too many times to count. And then, with a deep breath, she turned and clambered into the carriage, her ladies-in-waiting close behind her. Within moments, the carriage rattled to a start and soon they were through the South Gate, through Winter's Town, and had officially left Winterfell behind. Raya realized too late that she had forgotten to look at her home once more through the window of the carriage, but when she turned her head to look it was out of sight.