The camp of the Brotherhood Without Banners was quiet, the flickering fires casting long shadows on the surrounding trees. Edricia Dayne sat near one of the fires, her pale purple cloak drawn tightly around her as she watched the movement of the camp. It had been a long journey, and her mind often wandered, reflecting on the strange path she now walked.

Her gaze caught on a young man across the camp. He was helping to stack firewood, his features familiar. Edricia’s heart skipped a beat as she recognized him. It was the son of Eddard Stark, the same boy she had seen at the Hand's Tourney in King's Landing with her father. She had only glimpsed him then, but she knew him well enough now.

Without thinking, she rose to her feet and walked toward him, her boots crunching softly on the ground. As she neared, she took a breath and called out, "You... you're Eddard's son, aren't you?"

The young man turned, his gray eyes narrowing slightly at the sound of her voice. She knew they called her Ned just what people called his father. Edricia offered a shy smile.

"I knew your father," she said softly, her voice tinged with a slight nervousness. "Lord Eddard Stark. I saw him at the Hand's tourney in King's Landing. You were with him, and your sister too."