Robb will admit to finding this whole ordeal a bit silly.

"It is no small matter, my son." His father had told him. "The princess of the Summer Isles has a reputation for ethereal beauty and fierceness and kindness all in equal measure, and their family has requested you as her groom."

Robb felt perhaps his father was being dramatic, and yet here he was, awaiting a ship in harbor which was pulling in, with pale, yellow wood and big, red sails.

The Summer Isles. Robb cannot think of a place more different from Winterfell if he tried.

It feels almost cruel to send the Princess of Summer to be married to the Heir of Winter.