Cregan stood as the gates of Winterfell opened, an entourage riding in. His master of arms stood with him, as well as maester. All were expected to greet their guests. He expected the arrival, a raven had brought word of it days ago.

He watched quietly, his hands folded behind him as he stood with excellent posture. He felt the weight of the upcoming days as men began dismounting horses, and wheels stopped in the mud. Cregan hated entertaining guests, especially when there was so much to be done.

“Welcome to Winterfell.” His voice came out gruff and hard. He wouldn’t put on a false smile, however he would not dishonor his guest either.