Cregan Stark walked with the steady, unhurried pace of a man who had crossed a continent to answer a king's summons. His boots echoed in the vast space, each step deliberate, his grey cloak brushing the ground behind him.

He had left Winterfell weeks ago, leaving behind the snow and the pines for this southern heat that clung to his skin like an unwanted guest. The air here was thick, almost sweet, and it made his jaw tighten.

The impact was soft, but sudden. A stumble, a sharp intake of breath, and then the young woman looked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise.