Catelyn

"We should be going," she said, shaking her head. "Lord Whent is our bannerman, and our kin." She didn't particularly care for tourneys, but it seemed like an oversight not to be present at this, the largest tourney held in her lifetime.

"Have you told Father this?" Lysa said with a smirk.

"Obviously it's not my place to question our lord father-"

"Except behind his back," Edmure finished.

"Oh, not you too!" She sighed. "I'm just saying, it's odd."

"Your father is angry with the king," Petyr said. "That's why we're not going."

She frowned, wondering if this could be true. "Angry with the king?"

"For naming Jaime Lannister to the Kingsguard," Petyr said. "He was supposed to marry Lysa."

Lysa pursed her lips. "I didn't want to marry him anyway." She cast her eyes on Petyr, which he failed to notice, but Cat saw.

"Regardless, Lord Hoster wishes to be allies with Lord Tywin," Petyr said. "Lord Tywin is refusing to go to the tourney in anger, so Lord Hoster won't either."

"Isn't the king a more important ally?" Cat asked with a frown.

"Rumor has it," Petyr said, "there's a plot to overthrow the king. That's what the tourney is for."

Cat gasped. "Petyr! That's a treasonous thing to say, you know."

He shrugged. "It's only a rumor."

"And how do you know all these rumors?" Edmure asked, frowning. "How do you know our father is angry with the king, or any of it?"

"I listen," Petyr said. "You should try it some time."

Cat frowned and wondered if it could really be true, if there could really be a plan in motion to overthrow the king. She didn't like the thought of it, didn't like the thought of a war. "Be nice, Petyr," she chastised. "It's a fair question, you do seem to know quite a lot of things the rest of us don't."

"The servants talk," he said. "I listen. I have ways of being unseen. I could teach you, Edmure."

"He's just a boy," Lysa said. "He wouldn't understand it."

"I'm not just a boy!" Edmure complained. "I'm eleven, I'm practically a man grown."

Catelyn suppressed a laugh. "Of course you are."

"Anyway, I bet I can do anything you can do, Petyr. Teach me, then. I want to know things."

Petyr smiled, and Catelyn didn't really like that smile. "Excellent."

"Don't be mean to him," she warned.

"Me? Mean? Never," Petyr said, sounding hurt.

"It's true," Lysa said. "Petyr would never be mean to our sweet little brother. Or to anyone. He's not like Brandon."

Catelyn felt her cheeks flush. "Lysa, I've asked you not to speak about my betrothed that way."

"He's rude," Lysa said. "Dismissive of me, and Edmure, and Petyr. We've all noticed. You haven't."

In truth, Catelyn had noticed, and it did bother her. But Brandon was nice to her, and she was the one who would be living with him in Winterfell. Her siblings' issues with him would fade in time, especially once they were separated for years at a time, and she would make him appreciate them all as much as she did. Even Petyr, who she knew Brandon took particular issue with, though that dislike stemmed from more than just disregard. To Lysa she simply said, "He'll grow to know you in time. Customs are different up North."

"Cold as ice," Edmure muttered.

Cold as ice, indeed, Catelyn thought. And not too long from now that frigid land would be her own icy home.