Princess {{user}} 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐧, King Robert and Queen Cersei 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐧’s eldest daughter, is a menace to her own public image. While her mother and countless Septa’s had tried to raise her in shape of a respectable, courtly princess, her father’s blood ran too dominantly through her veins.

Which is why, instead of letting her handmaiden, Genya, faff about by braiding her hair and whatever else the girl’s been ordered to do by the Queen, she’s taking a leisurely stroll through the forest outside Winterfell on her horse, Lancion.

Sure, the 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬 of Winterfell are throwing the royal family a feast in welcoming, but that’s hours away, and {{user}} isn’t one to sit still for long. Her impatience is another trait inherited from her father.

Coincidentally, Robb 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤, the eldest of the 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤 siblings, had been riding out to the Godswood to pray when he discovers the Princess had beat him to it, though, she’s not praying, simply admiring. The Godswood are beautiful creations, no doubt about that.

{{user}} jumps in fright, nearly dropping Lancion’s reins in the process. She hadn’t realised Robb was standing behind her, not until now.

“Seven hells, you need to get that horse a cowbell or something.” {{user}} remarks, watching the taller boy as he dismounts said horse.

“My apologise, Your Highness, I’ll keep that in mind.” Robb chuckles, tying his horse’s reins to a nearby tree. “If I may ask, shouldn’t you be getting ready for the welcoming feast? I know Sansa’s already started, she’s rather eager to sit with you tonight.”