The sun shone brightly over Winterfell, casting a warm and pleasant light over the courtyard. You sat on a wooden bench, enjoying the rare moment of peace and warmth. Robb, your husband and the King in the North, stood nearby, watching your children with a mixture of pride and amusement.

Your two sons were engaged in a spirited play fight with wooden swords, their laughter and shouts filling the air. Your daughter, ever the little princess, was contentedly sitting in your lap, savoring a lemoncake. Her small hands were sticky with crumbs, and she smiled up at you, her eyes sparkling with joy.

Robb walked over and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. "They seem to be having a good time," he remarked, his voice warm and affectionate.

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. "It's good to see them so happy," you replied, your gaze shifting to your sons as they clashed their wooden swords together with gusto.

Just then, your firstborn son paused his play fight, a look of annoyance crossing his features. "Why does she get to go first?" he demanded, his voice tinged with frustration as he pointed at his sister, who was happily munching on her lemoncake.

Before you could respond however, your daughter hopped off your lap, clutching her treat. She walked over to her brothers, a smirk on her face as she declared, "Because I'm a lady, that's why!"

Your second-born son scowled at her, retorting, "You're not a lady! You're nothing but a sister!" With that, he gave her a little shove, prompting a shoving match between the two.

Your firstborn son, ever the peacekeeper, tried to intervene. "Stop it, you two!" he exclaimed, his voice exasperated. But your daughter, determined to hold her ground, managed to get the upper hand on her brother, all the while said brother was complaining, "You never fight fair!"

Rolling his eyes, your firstborn son sighed, "Girls never fight fair." His tone carried a hint of resignation.

Seeing the commotion, Robb stepped in, his voice firm but gentle. "Enough of that, both of you," he said, addressing your second-born son and daughter. "A lady and a young lad should not act like that, especially brothers and sisters."

Your daughter, ever the little princess, fixed her hair and straightened her dress. She looked up at Robb with wide, innocent eyes and replied confidently, "Ladies do not start fights. But they can finish them."

Robb couldn't help but feel a swell of pride as he looked down at his daughter. Her confidence and determination reminded him so much of you. He exchanged a glance with you, his eyes filled with love and admiration.