Game of Thrones: Knight's Honor-Chapter 351: An Unexpected Surprise

"Have you really decided to attend Joffrey's wedding?" Margaery asked again, repeating the question she'd posed just a few hours earlier.

"Mm," Lynd replied absentmindedly, eyes still on the documents in his hands.

"Can I go with you?" Margaery asked softly.

Lynd responded in a low voice, "And leave Sansa here all alone?"

"Huh?" Sansa, hearing her name, looked up briefly at Lynd, then lowered her head again and continued flipping through the documents she'd been staring at for hours.

Ever since learning that Robb Stark had been ambushed and killed by House Frey, Sansa had been in a daze—lost, vacant, drifting through her days like a ghost.

Lynd had already had Qyburn examine her. Qyburn believed her condition was a psychological one, brought on by overwhelming grief. With time and care, he said, she would recover.

Still, Sansa's current state meant she needed someone nearby constantly. If left alone, she might do something dangerous. Naturally, her closest companion, Margaery, was the best person to be with her.

"Why not bring Sansa with us?" Margaery suggested.

"You think she hasn't suffered enough? You want her to walk the very spot where her father was executed? Watch her enemies laugh and toast at a royal wedding?" Lynd finally looked up at Sansa, sighed, and said, "If we really took her to King's Landing for Joffrey's wedding, by the time we returned, she might be completely broken."

"Poor Sansa..." Margaery gently stroked her head, as though comforting a frightened pet. Then she asked, "Will you send her back to Winterfell?"

At the mention of Winterfell, something seemed to stir in Sansa. She looked up slightly, a flicker of recognition in her eyes.

"It's not the right time," Lynd shook his head. "Winterfell is an empty shell right now. If we send her back, how is she supposed to survive?"

"But what about Lady Catelyn?" Margaery asked, puzzled. "She's already returned to the North. And with Lord Roose Bolton's methods, the Ironborn invasion should be easily crushed. Lady Catelyn would likely return to Winterfell to hold the castle. When that happens, wouldn't it be the perfect time to send Sansa home so she can be looked after?"

"Have you forgotten your own analysis of why Roose Bolton breached the river?" Lynd gave her a sharp look. "That quickly? Let me remind you—your conclusion was that Roose Bolton intended to betray Robb Stark."

Margaery shook her head. "That analysis was mistaken. Up until Robb Stark's death, Roose Bolton didn't show any signs of betrayal. It was House Frey we didn't account for."

"Have a little faith in your own judgment," Lynd said calmly. "Give it a bit more time, and you'll see whether he betrayed Robb or not."

In truth, there was no need to wait. Just over an hour later, a message from the North was delivered to Lynd's desk. The report was shocking: Roose Bolton had taken Winterfell, the Ironborn had fled to the Dreadfort, and—most startling of all—Roose Bolton had married Catelyn Tully in the godswood of Winterfell, under the witness of septons of the Seven.

For anyone who truly knew Catelyn, the news was deeply suspicious—clearly, something was wrong. But to the general populace, it didn't seem unreasonable.

After all, Catelyn Tully had lost her husband more than a year ago. Her two youngest sons had supposedly been burned to death by her husband's ward. One daughter had vanished without a trace, the other was living as someone else's ward. Now, even her eldest son—her last anchor—had been brutally murdered, his head severed and sewn onto a wolf's body. Any woman, no matter how strong, would be shattered by so much loss.

And anyone suffering such devastation would instinctively seek something—or someone—to lean on. At that moment, the only person by Catelyn's side was Roose Bolton. Add to that the fact that Roose had reclaimed Winterfell for House Stark, and her decision seemed almost impulsively inevitable. Marrying him, securing Winterfell for her daughter in Summerhall—it all made sense.

"Impossible! My mother was completely loyal to my father. Her love for him was greater than anyone's in the world—she would never marry someone like Roose Bolton!"

Sansa, eyes still red and swollen from crying, burst out of her room, her voice filled with disbelief and emotion.

"Sansa, calm down. Saying that won't change anything," Margaery said softly, watching her with pity. "None of this happened because of us. Whether we believe Lady Catelyn loved Lord Eddard doesn't matter anymore."

But Sansa didn't acknowledge Margaery's words. Instead, she went straight to Lynd, knelt before him, and pleaded, "Your Grace, I beg you—please, in my father's name, look into this. It can't be what people are saying. Roose Bolton must have done something terrible to make my mother marry him."

"Stand up first," Lynd said, reaching out to lift her gently to her feet. He then took a document from the table and handed it to her. "This is a letter sent urgently by the Septon of the Faith of the Seven who officiated their wedding. He's from the Sept in White Harbor, transferred there from Miracle Port. He served at the Miracle Sept for many years and underwent the Redemption Sept's trials. He's a devout and trustworthy Septon of the Seven. His words can be relied on."

Sansa grabbed the letter and read through it with trembling hands. Her face drained of color.

If the only people present at the wedding in the godswood of Winterfell had been Roose Bolton and Catelyn Tully, it would be reasonable to suspect coercion or some dark scheme. But that wasn't the case. Alongside Roose Bolton were several Northern lords: Wyman Manderly of White Harbor, Herman Tallhart of Torrhen's Square, Galbart Glover of Deepwood Motte, his brother Robert Glover, and Maege Mormont of Bear Island, among others.

At the time, the army outside Winterfell wasn't only Bolton's. The others had brought their own troops to help reclaim the city, and their numbers were comparable to his.

Before the wedding, Wyman Manderly and the other lords had repeatedly questioned Catelyn Tully—was she marrying Roose Bolton of her own will? Was she under duress? Had she admitted to being coerced, those Northern lords would never have stood by. They would have acted to protect her.

But Catelyn Tully had declared, in front of all of them, that she was marrying Roose Bolton willingly. Only after that did the Septon from White Harbor proceed with the ceremony.

"How can this be?" Sansa murmured. "Mother loved Father. She would never choose someone like Roose Bolton!" Her voice was dazed, her expression filled with disbelief, confusion, and—beneath it all—a flicker of hurt and resentment at what felt like betrayal. frёeweɓηovel.coɱ

"I believe Lady Catelyn truly loved Lord Eddard," Lynd said with a sigh. "But her marriage to Roose Bolton is, without question, something she chose."

Truthfully, Lynd had been just as stunned when he first read the letter. It was so unlike the Catelyn Tully he remembered—so at odds with the woman who had been willing to give her life for her husband and sons.

That Catelyn would voluntarily marry a man like Roose Bolton seemed inconceivable.

His first instinct had been to suspect magic or sorcery. But that, too, didn't hold up. The Septon who officiated the wedding had passed the trials of the Redemption Sept, which included rigorous training in identifying and resisting magical influence. Anyone who passed those trials would be capable of recognizing if Catelyn had been under any magical manipulation.

With all other possibilities ruled out, the truth—no matter how unbelievable—was likely just as it appeared: Catelyn Tully had willingly, and sincerely, married Roose Bolton.

Lynd looked at Sansa and Margaery and said in a low voice, "We can be certain that Lady Catelyn did not love Roose Bolton, and that she made the decision to marry him sometime during her return to the North. So let's ask ourselves—what would make a woman agree to marry someone she doesn't love in such a short time?"

Sansa's mind was in complete disarray. She couldn't think straight at all.

It was Margaery who quickly arrived at a reason that was likely very close to the truth. "Territory," she said. "She married Roose Bolton for the sake of the Stark family lands."

Sansa looked at her in a daze, while Lynd's expression turned contemplative.

"I suspect Lady Catelyn doesn't yet know that she still has two sons alive, and that they're at the Wall. In her eyes, all the male heirs of House Stark are dead. Arya is missing and presumed dead, and you, Sansa, are the only one left. You're the sole remaining heir," Margaery analyzed seriously. "And while you're safe under Lord Lynd's protection, when it comes to the succession of Winterfell, he won't interfere. So whether or not you can inherit it is still uncertain."

She picked up her glass, took a sip of juice, then continued, "Right now, the two most powerful noble factions in BJ are Dacey Mormont of Bear Island and Roose Bolton. Lord Manderly of White Harbor doesn't compare to either of them. So without the support of one of those two, you don't stand a chance at claiming the title of Lady of Winterfell."

Sansa immediately shook her head and argued, "That doesn't make sense! If that were true, then Mother should have chosen Lady Dacey. Her loyalty is unquestionable—she even avenged Robb. Mother should've trusted her more. There's no way she would marry Roose Bolton instead!"

Margaery nodded. "You're right. Under normal circumstances, Lady Catelyn should have chosen Dacey Mormont. But something must have happened that changed her thinking—something that drove her to take the drastic step of marrying Lord Roose Bolton."

As she said that, she glanced meaningfully at Lynd.

Lynd seemed to realize what she was implying and said, "Storm's End and Dragonstone?"

Margaery nodded.

At that moment, the sharp-minded Sansa also understood what she meant. "Mother must have feared that if she aligned with Dacey, Winterfell would end up like Storm's End—swallowed up by Lord Lynd. So she chose Roose Bolton's support instead, and married him."

"Exactly," Margaery sighed. "I think Lady Catelyn was so shaken by Robb's death that she completely lost her ability to think clearly. If she'd been thinking straight, she would have seen that even without Dacey, Lord Lynd could easily take Winterfell—and the entire North—by turning you into a puppet. He could've even had Dacey take Winterfell directly. Who would've dared to oppose him? Who would've had the power to stop him?"

Sansa stayed quiet for a long time, then asked in confusion, "But how would that benefit Roose Bolton?"

Before Margaery could respond, Lynd answered, "Roose Bolton is likely after Riverrun."

"Riverrun?" Sansa blinked, then quickly realized that with Edmure Tully dead, Riverrun had also lost its male heir. The only remaining potential successors were the Tully sisters and Brynden Tully, the Blackfish.

But Brynden had long since broken with Lord Hoster and formed his own house. He had no claim to House Tully's inheritance. Of the two sisters, Catelyn's claim was clearly stronger than Lysa's. So, by marrying Catelyn and making the right moves, Roose Bolton could use her to replace the Tullys and pass Riverrun on to his own descendants.

"Roose Bolton's children becoming Lords of Riverrun?" Margaery wasn't the only one who found the idea absurd—Sansa's face twisted in disbelief as well.

After all, among everyone in the Riverlands—from nobles to commoners—the most hated man wasn't Lord Tywin, who had started the war and let his soldiers rampage through their lands. It was Roose Bolton, the man who breached the levees and flooded their fields.

And now that man had a chance to become their liege lord. The thought alone was enough to make anyone grimace—or laugh.

Tywin Lannister must have realized that as well. More than that, he must have seen how it worked in his favor. After all, a fractured and unstable Riverlands was exactly what he wanted.

So, a royal decree was issued from the Iron Throne and proclaimed throughout the Seven Kingdoms: Catelyn Tully was named Lady of Riverrun and Warden of the Riverlands. Her children with Roose Bolton would be the legitimate heirs to Riverrun. Petyr Baelish—Littlefinger—was granted the title of Lord of Harrenhal. Sansa Stark was declared Lady of Winterfell and Warden of the North. Robert Arryn, Lord of the Eyrie, would be placed in the care of Lord Yohn Royce of Runestone until he came of age to inherit his title and lands. Lysa Tully was ordered to choose a new noble husband and leave the Eyrie.

In addition, numerous other lords and nobles in the Riverlands, Crownlands, Vale, and the North were rewarded or punished. In short, the Iron Throne's decree threw everything north of the Blackwater Rush into utter chaos.