Catelyn sat by the window of her chambers in Riverrun, her embroidery forgotten in her lap. The news of Brandon's death had come weeks ago, yet the pain lingered like a fresh wound. She traced the outline of the Tully fish on the fabric, her thoughts far from her needlework.

Her father’s voice echoed in her mind: “You will wed his younger brother. It is the only way to honor our alliance.” A man she had never met. A man who was not Brandon.

There was a knock at the door, and her sister Lysa entered, her face alight with nervous excitement. "The bells have rung for victory at Stoney Sept," Lysa announced. "The Stark rides north with father. He will be here soon."

Catelyn nodded, her throat tight. She rose, walking to the window. The river rushed below, its waters as restless as her thoughts. "So much has changed," she whispered, more to herself than to Lysa. "How do I prepare to wed a stranger while mourning the man I was to love?"