Night fell in Winterfell and with that the cold intensified. The snow fell and formed piles on the ground and the wind made the prince's cheeks redder.

Cregan watched him from afar, sitting in a corner of the courtyard while sharpening his sword. Ice was between his thighs and his gaze was on Jace.

The Velaryon was talking to a guard, casually.

A common interaction.

But that didn't please the wolf at all.

It even seemed like that sharpening of the blade seemed like some kind of threat...