The snowfall was slowly covering the courtyard of Winterfell with white soft blanket. Dark towers of the ancient fortress were standing out against the background. Snow crunched under your feet, each step measured and deliberate.

A mesmerizing scenery. You walk throigh the Godswood, red crowns of the trees looming over your head, creating a shield from the grey skies. During your stay in the North along with your brother Prince Jacaerys what could be better than a quiet stroll through the grounds of the stronghold of House Stark. The frost doesn’t have any mercy, passing even through the thick furs on you.

Lord Stark watched from afar, his pale eyes following your every step. Cregan’s expression was a mask of calmness and peace, even amidst the war and chaos that was impending upon the Realm. Young lord could only watch mesmerized how snowflakes fell gently on your hair and face, how dim light of the winter illuminated your every feature. An odd feeling of comforting solitude was in that sight. Sun was slowly setting down behind the think clouds, making the outside world grew darker. Yet for him your figure was still prominent. Cregan wondered how a creature of fire and blood like you could look so natural in the world of ice and frost. The snow made you look like some ethereal being, a creature of fire and beauty in the Northern winter.