Jocelyn couldn't sleep that night. She lay awake in her chambers, staring at the flickering candle beside her bed, her thoughts a tangled mess of emotions. The kiss with Robb had been unexpected, but not unwelcome. He was kind, strong, steady—the kind of man any woman would be lucky to have by her side.

But Jon…

Jon had left her standing in the hallway, his silence speaking louder than any words ever could. The look in his eyes had been raw, guarded, but unmistakably hurt. And that hurt settled deep in Jocelyn's chest, heavier than she knew how to bear.

She sat up, throwing off the furs, and slipped out of bed. The castle was quiet, the air cool against her skin as she wrapped her cloak around herself. She didn't know where she was going until she found herself outside, in the godswood.

The moon cast silver light over the sacred grove, illuminating the red leaves of the weirwood tree. And there, standing at its base, was Jon.

She hesitated, watching him for a moment before stepping forward. His shoulders were tense, his hands tucked into his cloak, but he didn't turn as she approached.

"You should be inside," he said without looking at her. His voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it.

Jocelyn exhaled softly. "I couldn't sleep."

Jon let out a humorless chuckle. "Neither could I."

She stepped closer, hesitating before speaking. "Are you angry with me?"

Jon finally turned, his gray eyes meeting hers. There was something unreadable in them, something he was trying to suppress. "No."

"Then why are you acting like you are?"

Jon clenched his jaw, looking away. "Because it's easier."

Jocelyn swallowed, her chest tightening. "Easier than what?"

Jon let out a sharp breath, his frustration clear. "Easier than admitting that seeing you with Robb made me feel like a damn fool."

She inhaled sharply, caught off guard by his honesty. "Jon, I—"

"You don't have to explain," he said quickly, shaking his head. "Robb is a good man. And if that's what you want—"

"I don't know what I want," she interrupted, stepping closer. "That's the problem, Jon. I never had a choice in my own life before. And now that I do, I don't know how to make the right one."

Jon studied her, his expression softening just slightly. "I never wanted to make this harder for you."

"You didn't," Jocelyn whispered. "I did."

They stood in silence, the cool air settling between them. The weight of what was unspoken hung in the air—things neither of them could say, things that had been building for weeks.

Finally, Jon exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Whatever happens, Jocelyn, I'll still be here. That hasn't changed."

She nodded, though the guilt didn't fade. "And I don't want to hurt you, Jon."

He gave her a small, sad smile. "Too late for that."

The words stung more than she expected, and before she could say anything else, Jon turned and walked away, disappearing into the darkness.

Jocelyn let out a shaky breath, wrapping her arms around herself as she stared at the weirwood tree.

She had wanted freedom, choices. But she never realized how painful choosing could be.

The morning light streamed through the frost-covered windows of Winterfell as Jocelyn sat near the hearth in her chambers, staring at the flickering flames but not really seeing them. The conversation with Jon in the godswood still weighed heavily on her, leaving her feeling raw and exposed. She had never meant to hurt him, but somehow, she had. And Robb… she wasn't sure where she stood with him either.

A knock at the door startled her. Before she could respond, it opened slightly, and Robb stepped inside. He looked confident as always, but there was something softer in his expression as he shut the door behind him.

"I wasn't sure if you'd want company," he said, his voice gentle.

Jocelyn managed a small smile. "I could use the distraction."

Robb sat across from her, studying her carefully. "You've been quiet since last night."

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "There's a lot on my mind."

Robb nodded. "Jon?"

Jocelyn tensed slightly, her fingers tightening in her lap. "Yes."

Robb exhaled, leaning back in his chair. "I won't ask what was said. That's between you two."

Jocelyn glanced at him, her chest tightening. "I didn't mean to make things complicated."

Robb gave her a small, understanding smile. "Life is complicated, Jocelyn. You're not the only one figuring things out."

She looked away, guilt gnawing at her. "I don't want to come between you and Jon."

"You're not," Robb said firmly. "Jon and I have been brothers our whole lives. Nothing will change that. But…" He hesitated, then leaned forward, his blue eyes locking onto hers. "That doesn't mean I regret what happened between us."

Jocelyn swallowed, her heart pounding.

"I like you," Robb continued, his voice steady but sincere. "And I think you like me too."

She looked down at her hands, conflicted. "I do," she admitted quietly. "But I also care about Jon."

Robb exhaled, nodding slowly. "Then we take things slow. No pressure, no expectations." He gave her a small smirk. "We can't have you running off to the godswood every time you're overwhelmed."

Jocelyn let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "I suppose not."

Robb reached out, hesitating before gently taking her hand in his. "Just promise me one thing."

"What?" she asked, glancing up at him.

"Whatever happens, don't let guilt decide for you," he said. "Not for me. Not for Jon. You have a choice now, Jocelyn. Make the one that's yours."

Her breath caught, and for the first time in weeks, she felt a strange sense of relief. Robb wasn't pushing her, wasn't asking for something she couldn't give yet. He was just there, steady as ever.

She squeezed his hand lightly, offering a small smile. "I'll try."

Robb nodded, satisfied with that answer. "Good."

But as he stood to leave, the weight of her feelings still lingered. Because no matter how much she cared for Robb, no matter how easy he made things—she couldn't shake the feeling that somewhere out there, Jon Snow was still hurting.

And she wasn't sure how to fix it.