I woke with the sun already past the high turrets—something that hadn't happened since I first set foot in Winterfell. My eyelids were heavy, and my mind was still replaying the scenes from yesterday: Bran's face as he climbed down safely, and the whistling wind that had predicted a catastrophe that never came. I had fallen asleep very late, pondering every detail I had changed and the price "Fate" might demand in exchange for this interference.
I rose quickly, splashing my face with water so cold it nearly froze my pores, feeling that surge of euphoria again. "Bran is walking... Bran is safe." That thought alone was enough to make me smile at my reflection in the mirror.
As I pulled on my black leather jerkin and tightened my belt, I remembered something that made me scof with a bitter grin. "Damn it, I missed the morning show!" I knew from my memories that today, Tyrion Lannister was supposed to slap Joffrey three times to teach him manners after his refusal to pay respects to the Starks. I would have loved to see that little brat receive a lesson in humility, but saving Bran was worth the sacrifice of watching Joffrey cry
I made my way to the side dining hall, which was bustling today with an unusual presence. It wasn't just the Starks; the Lannisters had occupied a significant portion of the space.
As I entered, a sudden silence fell over the corner where the Southerners sat. I looked different today; it wasn't just ordinary "handsomeness," but the aura of a man who had saved a family without them even knowing. I walked with high physical grace, my body taut and my steps as confident as if I owned the castle. My dark hair was effortlessly styled, and my eyes radiated a sharp intelligence that caught the attention of everyone present.
At the high table, I saw Cersei Lannister. She wore a crimson gown embroidered with gold, watching the room with hawk-like eyes. Beside her was Jaime, who stopped eating and slowly set down his cup as he tracked my entrance. Even Tyrion, who was dipping a piece of bread into his soup, looked up and regarded me with a mysterious smile, as if seeing a puzzle that needed solving.
I passed by the Lannister table with dignity, bowing my head in a simple gesture—not out of subservience, but formal respect. I heard one of the Queen's handmaidens whisper: "Who is that knight? I haven't seen him in the capital before." I didn't turn, but I felt Jaime's gaze following me like a sword blade trying to pierce my armor.
I sat down with Robb, Jon, and Theon, who had already begun their breakfast.
"Alex! Have you finally decided to join the world of the living?" Theon shouted, laughing. "I thought you'd spend the day sleeping just to dream of the one who stole your heart."
I broke into a wide grin I couldn't hide. "I slept deeply, Theon. A depth I haven't tasted in a long time."
Robb noticed my unusual enthusiasm. "You look happy today, Alex, as if you've inherited the Seven Kingdoms. Is there a secret we don't know?"
Jon looked at me with his usual perceptiveness, as if sensing something had shifted in me since our talk in the stables. "Perhaps it's the fresh air, or perhaps the idea of the journey he proposed to me yesterday," Jon said quietly.
Theon didn't let the chance pass. "Nonsense! Look at the spark in his eyes. Alex is smiling because Sansa was asking about him a moment ago. Yes, don't deny it, Alex! She asked her maiden, 'Where is Ser Alex? We didn't see him in the morning yard.' It seems the 'Little Wolf' has already started howling under her window."
I laughed and shook my head. "Sansa is a Lady, and I am the son of a master-at-arms, Theon. Stop your fantasies before Lord Ned hears us and feeds us to the direwolves."
But inside, I knew my joy was much deeper. I looked at Robb and thought: "You won't have to fight a losing war because of your brother's paralysis," and I looked at Jon and thought: "You won't go to die in the frost of the Wall before you know who you are."
After breakfast, we headed to the yard. The air was cold and bracing. We began our usual drills, but we noticed a group of Lannister guards in their bright red tunics and polished plate standing in the corner, watching us with visible mockery.
They whispered and laughed while Robb and Jon traded blows. They didn't dare harass Robb, Jon, or Theon; they knew they were the sons of great lords, and any insult to them could cost them their heads. But their eyes settled on me. To them, I was just a "servant's son" dressed better than my station.
One of them stepped forward, a massive man with a scar on his cheek named Vance. He spoke loudly for all to hear: "Look at these pretty boys... dancing with wooden sticks as if they were at a wedding. Is there a real man among you who dares to touch steel, or are you afraid of staining your beauty with dust?"
Robb stopped training and reached for his sword hilt, but I placed my hand on his shoulder and whispered: "No, Robb. He's looking for me. Let me teach him a lesson in Northern manners."
I stepped toward Vance with icy calm. "You talk a lot for a man wearing armor that shines brighter than his mind. Do you want a duel?"
Vance laughed and looked at his companions. "I want to see if that pretty face can withstand a blow from Lannister steel. But be warned, boy, I don't play with children's wood."
I gripped my iron sword, feeling its familiar weight. "Then let us see if Southern gold holds up against Northern cold."
Everyone gathered around us. I saw Jaime Lannister standing at a distance, leaning against the rail with his eyes gleaming with interest. Even the Queen and Sansa appeared on the balcony overlooking the yard.
Vance attacked with brute force. He was strong, but his movements were telegraphed. I parried his first strike with a grace that stunned the onlookers. I wasn't just fighting with the heavy Northern style; I was using the "Cat's Balance" I had taught Arya.
I moved around him like a ghost. With every blow he tried to land, I countered with a swift strike against his plate—not to kill him, but to humiliate him and expose his slowness.
"What's the matter, Vance? Is your armor too heavy?" I taunted as I circled him.
Vance roared with rage and lunged with all his weight, which was exactly what I was waiting for. I dropped low, used his momentum against him, and with a swift pirouette, I struck the back of his knee with my sword's pommel. I then placed the cold edge of my blade against his throat as he lay on the ground, gasping for air.
Silence fell over the yard. I looked toward the balcony and met Sansa's eyes; she was looking down with a mixture of awe and admiration she couldn't hide. Then I looked toward Jaime; he was wearing a strange smile, as if he had finally found an opponent worthy of the effort of standing up.
"In the North, we don't care how much the armor shines," I said, my voice echoing through the yard. "We care about the man who wears it."
I withdrew my sword and helped Vance up with a gesture of such arrogance that it nearly killed him with shame. I returned to my companions, who greeted me with slaps on the shoulder and shouts of pride.
"You made him look like a pig trying to fly!" Theon laughed.
As for me, I knew this duel wasn't just a display of strength. I had sent a clear message to everyone in the castle: Alex Cassel is not just a piece in the game... he is the player who is going to change all the rules.