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Layla had taken to walking the battlements at night, and Jon to watching her from afar, Greywind by her side just as he always was. It seemed his brother's direwolf had transferred his allegiance to Robb's widow and unborn child, and for that Jon was grateful. For the Wall was not a safe place for a woman, and Jon had seen his brothers eyes watching her. And why would they not? Being with child had seemingly only enhanced her beauty.
These were treacherous thoughts of his. Ones that involved casting aside his vows to take Stannis's offer. He could have Winterfell until her child came of age. He could marry her, and give her many more Stark children. But that was not to be, a fickle dream he must set aside, for he had his duty.
Even still, he could not help but watch her, unadultered in his attention. She was a beauty, almost otherworldly in her appearance but not as unsettling as Melisandre. And yet, there was a sadness about her, a loneliness perforating her being. All he wanted was to see her smile as carelessly as she once did.
Sometimes he would see one of her companions whisper something in her ear, and he would see that familiar glint in her eyes as she flashed them a grin. Though these moments were few and far between.