I planned to spend the day with Lady Catelyn as I had for a good portion of my days since joining the Stark family. However, that particular morning, she seemed flustered. Her mind jumped from subject to subject, and her expression continually fell into sadness, her eyes listless.

"Are you ill?"

Lady Catelyn shook her head, "No, I had a very long discussion with Ned last night."

"Is everything alright?"

She forced a small smile, "I hope so."

She held my gaze; I felt that there was more she wanted to say, but I needed to know the right question to ask.

"Robb and I fought last night," I stated, hoping that she might feel more comfortable discussing her feelings if I shared mine.

"What about?"

"What does not really matter," I answered, well aware that the topic of Jon would not bring her out of her shell. "I just…I don't know how to handle him. I knew at a certain point that I should leave it, and we could discuss in the morning, but I couldn't stop myself."

Lady Catelyn smiled, "You must learn some patience. It is one of the most useful skills in a marriage."

"Patience has never been a common trait in House Samelson."

She laughed, "Robb is much like his father. He is loyal, strong, honest, but he is also more passionate. He can hide his emotions certainly, but if you push him, he lets them out."

"I do too...Part of me wants to apologize but the other part still knows I'm right."

"Give it time. When both of you have cool heads, speak again. Not before – though it's hard," she cautioned.

I nodded, wishing I had gone to my own chamber last night without stopping back in what was technically his.

"I think you will both learn a great deal about each other in the next year," she added.

We had better. I thought darkly.

"Go spend time with the girls," Catelyn suggested. "They are at music lessons, which I know you enjoy more than the other activities."

I laughed, "Yes, that one I enjoy."

"Well, spend time with your sisters then."

There was something in her tone that made me hesitate, something left unsaid.

"Perhaps we should both go to music lessons?" I suggested, sensing she wished she could be with us.

"Not today," she replied solemnly. "Afterwards is stitching, so you may wish to excuse yourself before then."

I nodded with a grin and went to find Sansa and Arya. Sansa was in the middle of song when I arrived. Jeyne and Beth appeared to be enraptures while Arya looked as though she were falling asleep. She sat up a bit straighter when I sat next to her. Sansa had such a pretty voice. It had to be difficult for Arya.

With a lie about meeting Lady Catelyn, I left after music and went to see the boys. I found Jon a short distance away with Ghost and took a seat with him. Just because Robb was not talking to me did not mean I could not watch him spar Prince Joffrey. Any chance to see that boy lose was well worth it, and I was not disappointed as my husband hacked at him.

"I'm not sure if it's anger towards me or you that is inspiring this performance," Jon stated.

"Both?" I offered.

Jon shrugged. Joffrey got perhaps 1 hit in for every 10 of Robb's. If they had been using real swords, the prince would have been finished before he ever touched my husband. After stopping his sword at Joffrey's neck, Robb was declared the winner. He grinned with an easiness that twisted the prince's red face into a look of disgust. Theon patted him on the back, pulling him to the side with some inevitably expletive-laced words of encouragement.

"You are leaving me with them," I teased. "Just keep that in mind."

Jon chuckled at that as Bran and Prince Tommen arrive in so much padding that they appeared round little balls.

"Shouldn't you be stitching?" Jon asked, looking over the top of my head.

Arya came towards us, slumping next to me with Nymeria at her side. She did not look impressed by the majority of the play between the young boys, but when Robb and Joffrey stood up, her eyes widened and she sat forward.

Looking at Robb, I felt a deep swell of desire pump through me. Something about him sweaty, the look of determination in his eyes, it was incredible attractive. I tried to bite back the feeling; even our fight did not make me want him less although I still did not feel like speaking to him.

When Joffrey suggested real swords, I knew this would not continue, though. Ser Rodrik wouldn't allow it although Robb was ready. The prince taunted Robb about the rules of Winterfell and Robb's age – too young to play with real swords yet older than the prince, suggesting Robb was still a child and he was not.

Although I knew it was all a ploy to get out of losing again, it set my blood boiling. I had a strong urge to run up and smack Joffrey. Robb clearly felt the same as Theon had to grab his arms and physically restrain him.

"I wouldn't mind seeing them in an actual fight. Robb would cut him to ribbons," Jon commented, standing up.

I stood too, following my natural instinct to speak with Robb, who was cursing at the dirt.

"No, my turn," Jon replied, reading my thoughts.

"Still?"

"I'm sure you will see him soon. Why don't you take Arya back to Septa Mordane?"

"I don't want to go back!" Arya cried.

"Better now than later," I pointed out; any more delay would likely not improve her mood. Arya's downcast eyes showed just how excited she was.

"Do you want to tell me what happened during stitching?" I asked Arya.

"No…"

She kicked at the ground as we walked along. I put an arm around her shoulder, hoping she might feel my sympathy even in silence.

"I wish I had grown up with you as a sister. Sansa's so good at everything I'm supposed to do; I can't do anything right. And everything I am good at, I'm not supposed to be. I don't feel like that with you."

I smiled at Arya and bent down to be eye level with her. "Maybe you were meant to do different things, Arya. Promise me something."

"What?"

"That you won't fight who you are. Even if other people try to," I replied.

Arya looked up at me seriously, her brown eyes almond shaped as she stared.

"Go on. I'll see you at supper."

Arya nodded, and with one more breath, she seemed to walk taller as she moved down the hall to find the septa. I stood up, folding my arms over my chest. At least I could help one Stark today.

"Touching." Jaime Lannister's voice slid like silk through the air.

I turned around, a smile coming to my face.

"Don't fight who you are," he quoted with a teasing grin and almost musical voice.

"It is good advice. My father once said that to me."

"You did say he had a gift for inspiration."

"Maybe you should listen too. It must be exhausting living under that facade."

Jaime chuckled, "A façade? Maybe I enjoy being this way."

"Oh it would be so disappointing if I were to learn this is all there is to the famous Jaime Lannister."

"I'm afraid I may disappoint," he returned with a hand over his heart.

"Such is life I suppose."

"Yes, I hear you are having some disappointments with your husband." The surprise must have registered on my face as he said that because he explained, "Your mother mentioned something to my sister, and she said in passing to me that you have been quarreling; so sad so early in a marriage."

"I think we'll survive," I returned, laughing. It seemed the easiest way to shake him.

"If you need an escort for supper, let me know."

"I think I will be fine, but I appreciate your offer."

"My lady," he returned with a slight nod of his head.

"My lord," I replied.

I walked into my chamber and was shocked to Robb sitting on the floor in front of the bed. Grey Wind sat next to him leaning against his master. I turned around and looked at the hallway. I had come into the right chamber.

"Ana," Robb called.

It was at that point I noticed how dead his eyes looked, giving a lost stare. He sat hunched over, his left arm over Grey Wind, and his right leg propped on his knee, holding his direwolf's yellow eyes appeared wild with distress, seeing Robb so broken. My lips parted over my slightly open mouth as my heart started to tug at me. This had to be much more than simply embarrassment at what Joffrey said.