You were the eldest child of Queen Cersei and King Robert, though your features were more Lannister than Baratheon. That was evident to Robb when you first arrived at Winterfell on horseback with your family and entourage. Your golden locks seemed to glow in the light, your features a picture of beguiling intrigue. Robb did not have much time to dwell on your looks. His attention was pulled to his sister as she blushed at the sight of Joffrey. Great.

Your presence carried an air of regality and propriety, your visage always stuck in a restrained and maleficent expression. Robb had yet to speak with you one-on-one, but from his observations, he had little hope that you would be kind.

As the hours passed by in the day, and he observed you interacting with those around you, his quick judgment began to falter. You were gentle when you spoke to Bran, and airy as you interacted with his sisters. What struck out to Robb was the fact that you gifted Sansa your necklace because she said it was pretty. The necklace was crafted of precious metals and rare stones. It surely cost more than anything she owned. Yet, you gave it away without hesitation. Perhaps you were not the spoiled princess he thought you were.

The great feast to commemorate the royal family's arrival had been rowdy and fun, but Robb had noticed you slip away onto an empty balcony. He had been throwing glances your way.

Robb saw his chance and he took it, following you outside into the cold night air, the moon casting silvery beams across your form. There was a silent strength in the way you carried yourself, hidden beneath lace and silk and gems. Robb cleared his throat as he approached you on the balcony, standing by the stone edge with a goblet of Dornish Red in your hand. He nodded in greeting when you looked over your shoulder.

“You gave Sansa your necklace,” He stated slowly, nodding to the place between your collarbones where the intricate jewelry once resided. “That was quite kind of you.”