Chapter 18
Serafina stood in the tent of Robb Stark's brother and second-in-command, barely managing to maintain her composure. If this was meant as a punishment, Robb Stark had succeeded well. Her reputation was long gone by now, even without being handed over to his brother like a common whore. Despite her growing fear and anxiety, she had no strength left to care anymore.
"Apologies, my lady," Lord Jon murmured. "I just returned; I had no time yet to wash myself."
Serafina looked at him, noting the grime and weariness etched on his face.
"No need to apologize, my lord," she replied as calmly as she could. "This is your tent."
"Hmm. You should eat."
He waved his hand towards the small table and headed to the corner of the tent where a bowl of water was waiting for him. Serafina nodded, grateful for the distraction. She moved towards the table and sat down, her eyes scanning the modest offerings of bread, cheese, and dried meat. As she began to eat, she glanced over at Jon Snow, who was washing himself with the water. His back was to her, and she noticed the tension in his shoulder.
She tried her hardest not to think about what would happen after he would be finished. Robb Stark had said that he trusted this man, but he also trusted Theon Greyjoy.
"I was happy to hear that your sister is safe, my lord," she stated cautiously, trying to find out what she was dealing with. She didn't really know anything about Jon Snow, apart from the common knowledge about his military skills during the war.
"Were you?" he murmured without turning to look at her.
"Yes, my lord."
He turned to face her, drying his hands with a cloth.
"Somehow, I doubt that, Lady Lannister."
Serafina felt a pang of unease at his words. She carefully set down her piece of bread and met his gaze.
"My lord, I assure you, I am genuinely glad your sister is safe. No one should endure the horrors of captivity."
His eyes narrowed slightly, scrutinizing her expression.
"You'll understand if I find it hard to believe. Your family has caused us great pain."
"I understand, my lord," she stated, keeping her voice steady.
He turned back to the bowl of water, his shoulders still tense.
"Eat, Lady Lannister. I promised my brother to feed you."
Serafina exhaled softly, trying to push away the anxiety that threatened to overwhelm her. She resumed eating, though her appetite was nearly gone.
"I am curious about something though," he continued after a moment of silence. "How did you manage to receive such favors from my brother?"
She stiffened as he turned back to her, his expression neutral. She took a moment to compose herself before responding, her voice measured and calm.
"His Grace showed me kindness, my lord. He treated me with respect, despite my family's actions. I did nothing to earn it beyond showing him the same respect in return."
Lord Jon's expression remained unreadable. "Respect alone does not usually grant such favors, especially in times of war."
She met his gaze steadily. "Perhaps he saw something in me that convinced him I was not a threat. Or perhaps he simply chose to show mercy. Either way, I am grateful for his protection."
His eyes searched hers for a long moment before he finally nodded.
"Very well. We shall see if your gratitude extends to cooperation."
He turned back to finish washing himself, leaving Serafina to her distressing thoughts. She continued to eat, though each bite felt heavier than the last. The atmosphere in the tent was tense, and she was uncertain of what to expect. What kind of "cooperation" had he meant?
She tensed even more as he removed his tunic in order to wash his upper body. Despite keeping her eyes on the table, she still noticed his hardened muscles and battle scars. She would have no chance of fighting him off. For a moment she considered pleading, perhaps offering him gold in exchange for showing her mercy, but those thoughts vanished quickly. She was done begging. She remained silent as he finished washing and put on a clean tunic before turning back to her.
"I suppose I'm obliged to offer you my bed," he stated reluctantly.
Serafina looked up, startled by his words. She forced herself to respond calmly, though her heart was racing.
"Thank you, my lord, but I can manage with a blanket on the floor. I do not wish to be a burden."
He studied her for a moment before shaking his head.
"No. My brother entrusted me with your care. You will take the bed. I'll manage elsewhere."
She nodded, not daring to argue further. The silence between them grew heavy, filled with unspoken tensions and uncertainties. She finished her meal, trying to appear composed.
"Thank you," she said quietly, pushing her plate away. "For the food."
"Just fulfilling my duty," he replied, his tone indifferent. "I'll turn my back now so you can get ready for bed."
Serafina nodded cautiously, still unsure of his intentions. She waited until he turned his back before quickly changing into the simple nightdress she had been given. The tent felt colder now, the earlier warmth dissipating with the evening chill. She slipped under the blankets, trying to calm herself.
He remained facing away, his posture stiff. She wondered what he was thinking but knew better than to ask. Instead, she settled into the bed, pulling the blankets up to her chin.
"I am ready, my lord," she murmured, her heart pounding.
He glanced over his shoulder before turning around. She was breathing faster, struggling to stay calm. She failed miserably as he approached the bed.
"My lord, please…" she murmured, her voice barely audible.
He stopped, his eyebrows furrowing as he seemed to understand what she was thinking.
"You have nothing to fear from me, Lady Lannister," he stated. "I promised my brother I would keep you safe, and I will. However, I will take some of those blankets."
Relief washed over Serafina as his words sank in. She nodded, her voice steadier now.
"Of course, my lord. Thank you."
He approached the bed, but instead of getting too close, he reached out for the edge of the blankets. He then retreated to the other side of the tent.
"You should try to get some rest," he stated.
Serafina settled back into the bed, still a bit tense but grateful for his reassurance. "Good night, my lord," she whispered.
"Good night, Lady Lannister," he replied.
Robb felt tense as he headed to Jon's tent early in the morning. As much as he had enjoyed spending time with Arya, his nagging guilt had bothered him the whole night. He shouldn't have sent Serafina away like that. Obviously, he trusted Jon, but his brother was a complete stranger to her. Robb felt that he owed it to her to make sure that she was alright.
He approached Jon's tent, his heart heavy with a mix of guilt and worry. He paused for a moment outside the entrance, taking a deep breath before pushing the flap aside and stepping in. The sight that greeted him was unexpected.
Serafina was awake, sitting at the table, looking more composed than he had anticipated. Jon was sitting opposite her; they were having breakfast.
"Good morning," Robb said, his voice careful and controlled.
Serafina stood up and curtsied, her eyes wary but calm. "Good morning, Your Grace."
"Robb," Jon acknowledged with a nod, his expression neutral.
Robb's gaze shifted between the two of them, relief mixing with his residual guilt.
"I hope you slept well, my lady."
"I did, Your Grace, thank you for asking," Serafina replied, her tone polite but guarded.
Robb hesitated, unsure of how to continue. Thankfully, Jon spoke up.
"How's Arya?" he asked.
"She's fine," Robb assured, smiling. "As much as she missed me, she is apparently eager to have her own tent already."
Jon nodded, retuning his smile.
"I'm sure she is."
Robb cleared his throat before turning his attention back to Serafina.
"I wanted to apologize for the abrupt change last night, my lady" he said finally. "I understand it must have been unsettling for you."
She looked up, giving him a polite smile.
"Not at all, Your Grace. I know my place and I am very grateful for Lord Jon's hospitality."
Her voice, although polite, oozed thinly veiled coldness. Robb felt a pang of guilt at her tone but kept his expression neutral.
"I'm glad to hear that," he replied.
Jon stood up, breaking the tension. "I need to attend to some matters. Robb, I'll see you later." He turned to Serafina and gave a brief nod. "My lady."
As Jon left, Robb gestured for Serafina to sit back down.
"Please, have some more breakfast. I wanted to discuss something with you."
She sat, still maintaining her composed demeanor. "Of course, Your Grace."
Robb took a deep breath, trying to choose his words carefully.
"I understand that our current situation is complicated, to say the least. I want you to know that despite everything, I value your well-being. If there is anything troubling you, or if there's something you need, I want you to feel comfortable telling me."
"Thank you, Your Grace," she replied, retaining her polite tone. "I am grateful for your kindness."
Robb sighed, realizing how upset with him she really was.
"I would like you to return to my tent today," he stated.
"Of course, Your Grace. Your wish is my command."
Robb felt the sting of her words, wrapped in politeness yet edged with bitterness. He took a step closer, lowering his voice.
"My lady, this isn't about commands. I want you to feel safe here. I know this has been difficult for you, and I regret any discomfort I've caused."
She looked at him, her expression guarded. "Your Grace, I understand my position. I'm your prisoner, a Lannister among Starks. Safety is a luxury I'm not accustomed to expecting."
Robb's heart ached at her words. He wanted to bridge the gap between them, but he was acutely aware of the vast chasm that the war and their family names had created.
"I promise you, Lady Serafina, I will do everything in my power to ensure your safety. You deserve that much, at least."
She lowered her gaze and nodded. "I appreciate that, Your Grace. Truly."
"Good," Robb said, relieved. "I'll arrange for your things to be moved back to my tent. If you need anything or have any concerns, please tell me."
"Thank you, Your Grace."
Robb took one last look at her before turning to leave, his mind heavy with the realization of how much work lay ahead to earn her trust. As he exited Jon's tent, he vowed to himself that he would find a way to make things right.