King Robert's pace was surprisingly swift. Clay had initially estimated that, given the king's lifestyle, it would take him two months to reach Winterfell.
Yet, only a month and a half had passed when Clay, standing atop Winterfell's ramparts chatting with Robb, spotted the vanguard of Royal Knights.
He didn't recognize the knight himself, but it was impossible to miss the Crowned Stag Banner fluttering from his saddle.
"Tsk, the stag's antlers are about to grace Winterfell. How about it, Robb? I heard the queen and her two siblings are accompanying him. Have you sharpened the Direwolf's teeth?"
Clay clicked his tongue, observing the approaching knights. The Direwolf banner and the Crowned Stag Banner advanced together, a stark reminder of the Usurper's War decades ago.
"They are the most esteemed siblings in the Seven Kingdoms, aren't they? I'll have to kiss her hand, I suppose. Besides, guest right must be upheld."
Robb tightened his cloak, speaking slowly, but his brow remained furrowed.
Clay smirked, reaching out to tug at the North's young lord's fledgling whiskers, which the latter dodged, asking Clay with a puzzled look: "What are you doing?"
"Has anyone ever told you that you Starks are terrible liars?"
"Nonsense, we…" Robb instinctively started to object, but the words caught in his throat. After a moment, he said sullenly, "Yeah, the North never taught us that…"
Robb stared blankly at the two fast horses galloping through the East Gate, and after a long time, he looked at Clay. "Was I that bad at covering it up?"
"I'm not a wolf, but even I know that baring your teeth too early just gets you shot at." Clay shrugged and patted Robb's shoulder. "Here's some advice: except for absolutely necessary occasions, try to avoid meeting with anyone from House Lannister. It'll save you some grief."
These days, Clay had been chatting with Robb about life and women. Besides learning the dirty jokes that were a specialty of Winterfell, Clay also knew that although Lord Eddard rarely mentioned the Usurper's War to his children, he certainly didn't hold back when talking about the Lannisters' misdeeds.
At least for Robb, he was very clear about the rotten things House Lannister did after entering King's Landing and knew how the Kingslayer earned his name.
So Clay wasn't surprised at Robb's reaction to House Lannister; like father, like son, as the saying goes.
The next morning, Clay didn't see the Stark siblings at the training grounds as usual. According to Vera, the sister who finally remembered who her brother was, Sansa and the others had been summoned by Lady Catelyn early in the morning for etiquette lessons.
Clay seized the opportunity to briefly ask his sister what she had been doing in Winterfell for the past two months and who she had been spending time with.
Vera answered very readily, but only mentioned two names: Sansa and Arya.
Looking at the cheerful Vera, Clay's eyes were filled with pity. She really didn't grasp the meaning behind her grandfather's permission for her to come to Winterfell.
After a long speech, Clay hadn't heard the name of Robb Stark at all. Grandpa's dream of his granddaughter becoming the lady of the North was once again shattered.
He could already imagine what Grandpa's reaction would be after Vera repeated this whole conversation to him...
By noon, a golden and silver procession arrived. Clay finally saw the legendary King of the Seven Kingdoms and his entourage.
There were about 300 people, mostly nobles of high status, and the lowest among them was a knight.
Dozens of banners fluttered in the wind. Most bore the Crowned Stag Banner of the royal family, while a few displayed the Golden Lion on Red Banner. Lord Eddard surely hates seeing those, Clay thought.
Standing on a slightly elevated position, Clay didn't have his guards raise the banner of House Manderly. It wasn't necessary, and besides, he was about to sneak into his master's backyard. Keeping a low profile was always wise.
Before long, Clay spotted the man flanked by two Kingsguard in their white cloaks. Without a doubt, it was their most esteemed King.
Indeed, even on horseback, King Robert's stout figure was hard to conceal. However, unlike the crude brute Clay remembered, the King, though significantly more portly, still possessed a certain majesty.
Years on the throne had given him an air of authority. No one needed to be told, but it was obvious that no one else in the procession could truly be called King.
After the dazzling display of the King and the ridiculously ornate Queen, everything else seemed rather dull.
There was nothing interesting to see here. Clay didn't care for the excessive and tedious formalities of the nobility, even though he was a proper young nobleman himself.
He casually pulled at his sister Vera, who was clearly excited. To his surprise, Vera brushed off his hand without even looking at him, engrossed in watching the knights bearing the Crowned Stag sigil.
She was gone, and before she left, Clay had already made it clear to Vera that she was absolutely forbidden from approaching the royal family. Vera had agreed. Clay didn't want to force her, so he indulged her curiosity for now.
The King was in the North. It seemed this was only the second time a monarch of the Seven Kingdoms had set foot in Winterfell since Jaehaerys I descended from the sky on his dragon.
Times had changed, and people were different. The Targaryen royal family, once closest to the gods, now had only two known survivors across the Narrow Sea, the rest having turned to dust.
But then again, they had ruled Westeros for over two hundred years. Clay knew very well the powerful influence the name Targaryen still held among the common nobility.
For a simple example, after the Usurper's War, the reason Robert could sit securely on the Iron Throne, aside from his proven skill in battle, was that his Targaryen bloodline was definitely his biggest advantage in winning the crown.
Although he'd have to deal with Daenerys later, Clay could only think about it for now. With only White Harbor behind him, he wasn't yet qualified to sit at the table.
Back in his room, Clay took out his night-traveling gear and checked it again.
Over his family's cloak, Clay had prepared a set of easy-to-remove black robes. After all, Winterfell was full of people, and these clothes were only for entering the Godswood, just in case he needed to hide from view.
Wearing this getup that doesn't look like it belongs to a good person is absolutely out of the question in the main part of Winterfell, especially now that King Robert has arrived. If Clay wears it, he'll look like an assassin even if he isn't one.
Along the way, the people who usually stopped to greet him now hurried along. When they saw Clay, they often just nodded or mumbled something, which showed that the Stark family had made ample preparations for welcoming the king.
The hustle and bustle in the city grew more pronounced as night fell. Clay was invited to the banquet in the Winterfell Great Hall, and he couldn't refuse this invitation.