The wind was cold at Winterfell, the icing breeze caressing your teary cheeks. You had lost your necklace. Your precious necklace.

The necklace that belonged to your mother. That she gave to you when you were little before her death. Your last memory of her. You couldn’t understand, you never took it off. And yet it was gone.

You have been looking for it all day. Everywhere. But you couldn’t find it. All you could do was crying. You decided to go out, to try to calm down.

You walked in the gardens, and sat on a little bench. You were still silently crying and thinking a lot. And as your sigh in despair, something appeared before you. Three lilies. You looked up to see the person holding them. A tall, black-long-curly haired boy, young.

"My lady." He said gently.