[Chapter Size: 3400 Words.]

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Third Person POV

Winterfell, 298 AC.

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“Let’s begin.” Ned declared, as the group of people filled the audience hall of Winterfell. This was the place where the Throne of Winter stood, often used to officially judge anything important enough to demand the presence of Lord Stark.

However, today was a little different. With the king present, the one to occupy that chair would be Robert Baratheon himself, as he was clearly the one with greater power than his friend. And Lord Stark could do nothing when the king said he would conduct the trial of the men who had tried to harm his daughter.

The place quickly filled, while Mearin entered, heading straight to the area with Bari at her side. The latter raised an eyebrow directly at Jill as he approached the princess of Arctic.

“You all seem to have had quite a busy morning.” He mentioned with a small smile, while Jill nodded at him in response, and he saw that she was in no mood at the moment. He wouldn’t be surprised if she started saying hostile things easily to anything she didn’t like.

“Arya, are you alright?” Martin didn’t hold back from expressing his concern, while Arya gave a small smile to her friend. Arya seemed quite calm with everything that had happened.

“I see your wounds are better, Mearin.” Arya replied, dodging Mearin’s question, noticing her friend’s face much paler than red when she had last seen her. Since she had used the ointment Arya had recommended.

“That’s not important now, Arya. Did you know about this madness? They’re saying you put yourself at risk, according to the guards who accompanied your father.” She said with a reproachful tone while Arya didn’t seem to take any of it seriously.

“Everything was under control, Mearin. I’m fine, and we have an interesting trial ahead of us.” Arya replied, assuring her friend that she was okay, though Jill seemed to have a look that said otherwise.

“Something wrong, Jill? You didn’t seem this irritated on the way here.” Arya saw Mearin take a seat along with the other nobles beside Bari, and Arya turned her gaze to the woman behind her, whose bad mood was easily noticeable.

“That whore from the south… I haven’t been in any kind of mood since we set foot in Winterfell with that woman here and having to act like we can’t do anything to her yet…” Jill said, as they were in a spot closer to the throne, separate from the accused.

‘I know one thing is killing those who tried to harm us, another is being in the same place as the people who ordered the assassins and having to act like nothing’s happening.’ Arya thought. Jill was a very honest Arctican, and people like that had no vocation for politics. Especially in Westeros, where all kinds of deceit and betrayal reigned.

“Is something wrong, sister?” Robb, who was at her side near the Throne of Winter, asked, seeing Arya looking at her royal guard.

“Everything’s fine, brother. Look, our little brother just arrived.” Arya said as Bran entered the hall at that moment and went straight to them, with a very worried and confused look.

“Arya…” He looked at his sister with a worried gleam, wanting to know what had happened.

“Bran, you’ll understand what happened during the audience.” The sister replied as soon as he got close enough for her to ruffle his hair, already knowing his questions, wanting to reassure him that everything was fine.

Arya’s gaze turned to the place, which was getting more and more crowded.

It was then that the Lannister and Stark soldiers entered, along with nobles—all of whom were surprised by what had happened—together with servants, occupying more and more space in the hall.

The biggest commotion at the entrance at that moment came from one of the royal guards, bringing in the crown prince with Sandor Clegane and Tyrion Lannister entering the place.

Joffrey Baratheon’s face visibly changed upon seeing Arya standing there, perfectly fine, with only some bloodstains on her clothes—blood that probably wasn’t even hers.

“Well, it seems some rather interesting things are about to begin.” Tyrion remarked, as he walked through the hall with Joffrey, heading toward the king, while everyone acknowledged their presence respectfully.

Instead of following his nephew, Tyrion broke off and went to the side where the Starks were, making his way toward Arya as fast as his short legs would allow.

“Princess Arya,” he greeted. “About what happened in the forest—I know you handled it very well, but I still wanted to express my concern for your safety,” he said, trying to be courteous.

“Thank you for your words, Lord Lannister,” Arya replied.

“I must say, Lord Tyrion, you’re quite brave to approach the princess,” Jill’s voice suddenly rang out, full of venom and anger, catching Tyrion off guard as he saw the woman’s eyes fixed on him, not understanding why she was speaking to him that way—when she had never once shown any hostility during his stay in Winterfell or when speaking with Arya.

Even when he had spoken with Arya—who often exchanged words with him on most days, since he enjoyed talking with the girl who proved to be very intelligent—despite how difficult it was to find any information about Arctic, as his father demanded, he still found great pleasure in their conversations.

“Calm down, Jill. You shouldn’t blame everyone. I don’t think we’re dealing with someone responsible for what happened in the forest,” Arya said calmly, asking Jill to ease her temper.

But the woman continued to glare, her eyes showing she would show no mercy if Tyrion were an enemy. Meanwhile, the dwarf looked a bit dazed and even frightened, not knowing what she was referring to, and Arya tried to maintain control of the situation.

“I know you’re a bit confused, but all of this… will be clarified during the trial. Lord Lannister, you’ll understand. I know my royal guard may come off as hostile to you here, but don’t blame her either,” Arya said.

“Well… this is a bit confusing.” Tyrion scratched his head but returned his attention to Arya. “Anyway, I wanted to pass along a message I received today. A letter from my father. His letters arrived this morning, and he asked me to deliver this one personally to you,” he said, pulling a letter from his pocket. The correspondence was still sealed, bearing the Lannister sigil, with clear instructions not to be opened unless delivered directly to the recipient.

“You’re saying your father sent a letter to me… through you?” Arya raised an eyebrow, a bit surprised.

“Yes. Those were my instructions—deliver it directly to you,” Tyrion said, though his expression remained wary of the situation.

“He gave it to you? You told me yourself that your relationship with your father isn’t the best,” Arya questioned, her gaze slightly suspicious.

“My father apparently doesn’t trust my sister enough to deliver this letter. That’s why he chose to use me, once he found out we were speaking face-to-face,” he said.

“So your father doesn’t trust the queen to deliver a message to Arya? I can’t imagine why,” Jill mocked, while Arya turned to her with a slightly cold look — a silent request for Jill to stop, because she was going too far.

Jill fell silent after that, seeming to have gotten Arya’s message from her stare. Arya turned back to Tyrion and took the letter.

“Alright. I’ll read it later,” she said, putting the letter away, while the hall was now quite crowded.

Tyrion left shortly after, not feeling very comfortable under the armored woman’s hostile gaze directed at him.

“Sorry, princess, but I can’t let the Lannisters get close anymore. After what his sister did, we shouldn’t trust his family,” Jill said to Arya, her tone serious.

“It’s fine,” Arya replied, not challenging Jill’s irritation and simply agreeing. She wasn’t going to argue about it.

Arya’s gaze soon returned to the entrance as a certain stir began. There she was: the queen of the Seven Kingdoms, with her two sons, walking with an indifferent look as everyone stepped aside while she moved through the center of the audience hall — until she reached the king’s side, where her son was already standing with his sworn sword.

Arya could see the queen’s frustration. Behind that cold mask, there was also nervousness and fear, glimmering through.

She arrived. And it seemed she immediately noticed Arya’s gaze. Their eyes met. Arya could feel Jill behind her, nearly reacting to it.

At that moment, it wouldn’t take much for the Arctican warrior to lunge forward — and no one would be able to stop her from killing the queen right then and there.

Arya could have asked her to calm down, but she was too focused, staring directly into the queen’s green eyes, while the queen looked into her gray ones.

There was no more gentleness, no indifference or mockery between them.

Both bore a hostile gaze toward one another, as if they were declared enemies.

Arya said nothing but held the stare, not hiding the cold look she directed at the queen.

“Arya, everyone’s watching,” Robb suddenly appeared at her side, touching her shoulder.

Arya blinked and slowly averted her eyes, fixing them straight ahead, no longer staring at Cersei, then found her brother seated.

That was when Arya nodded at Robb, while many around them had witnessed the intense staring — as if the two women had been ready to kill each other. Everyone who noticed, which wasn’t a small number, was now gossiping.

She caught a surprised glint from Tyrion Lannister, who had stepped away.

Jaime Lannister, who had accompanied the queen into the hall, looked slightly confused, but no one was there to explain what was really going on — not until the trial began.

“So, Ned, can we start this already? I’m getting bored. Let’s go, execute those bastards,” the king’s voice demanded, full of disdain.

“Bring in the accused,” Ned nodded, looking toward his guards near the entrance, his voice easily echoing through the hall.

He gave the order as the men quickly began to head out the door to fetch the prisoners from the castle’s dungeon.

Several minutes passed while more people settled in. That was when Sansa entered with her mother, as Arya was answering a few of Bran’s questions — the boy couldn’t hold back his curiosity about what was happening, even though Arya’s answers were quite superficial.

Sansa seemed torn between trying to approach the prince — who stood next to his mother and royal siblings — or turning her gaze to her own family.

The relationship between the prince and her hadn’t been good lately, with him still quite angry ever since Arya had humiliated him during the sparring match.

She certainly blamed Arya for everything that had happened and had tried to apologize, but Joffrey didn’t seem to like her anymore and often threw unfriendly glances her way — prompting Sansa to return similar glances toward her younger sister.

Arya never cared about that — and she knew Joffrey thought Sansa was a fool, as he had already made clear with the words he had thrown at her sister on several occasions when irritated by the redhead following him all around Winterfell.

Not much changed. Sansa ended up going with Catelyn toward the three Stark brothers, standing on one side of the inner throne, with Lord Stark beside the king.

No one said anything about it, and she stood at the end, beside Bran, before glancing at Arya — the girl with Stark coloring turned to look at her naive older sister and saw what seemed like a flicker of inner conflict in her eyes.

“I heard what happened… I’m sorry,” Sansa murmured cautiously.

Arya raised an eyebrow at her. She was about to respond sarcastically, something like, “You care about me, sister?” but held her tongue and simply nodded, accepting the sincerity in her sister’s words — or at least what she could perceive of it.

“They will pay for everything they tried to do.” Catelyn’s voice rang out. She had immediately embraced her daughter upon arriving at Winterfell and seemed deeply worried about her.

This time, Arya couldn’t bring herself to mock her mother, but she soon pulled away.

Arya looked back at her mother and simply nodded, not wanting to comment on it.

“Even if the one who tried to harm your daughter is your faith, Lady Catelyn?” Bari’s voice said, standing beside Mearin.

Catelyn didn’t seem to like the question, but she also didn’t appear willing to contradict the man responsible for her younger daughter’s safety.

“Even if it’s the man of the Seven… No one hurts my children,” she admitted, her tone dry.

Even her eldest daughter looked at her, along with Bran and Robb, surprised — and Arya also stared at her, reinforcing the idea that her mother was a woman who would go against anything to save her family and children — even if it meant doing horrible, unforgivable things. Even if it meant committing terrible crimes…

But she wasn’t going to give her opinion on that now.

That was when the doors opened, and the men in black cloaks entered.

The last three survivors among the militant faithful, one of them still battered from the direwolf’s attack, with tears still in his eyes. All three bore the scarred mark of the Seven-Pointed Star on their foreheads and carried extremely hostile expressions.

They were brought forward and placed before the king.

“So you’re the ones who tried to ambush Ned’s daughter?” Robert began, as everyone instantly tensed.

“We’re merely purifying the North,” one of them suddenly spoke, his tone anything but timid, brimming with hostility.

“What did you say?” the king growled in anger, as no one liked the man’s tone.

“We’re merely purifying the North. Purging it of pagan plagues, of magic that defies the Seven,” he said, his gaze immediately turning directly toward Arya Stark.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve speaking those words in front of me. Accusing the girl of magic? What kind of nonsense is this?”

The king looked anything but pleased, and the people around began to murmur.

“So now you’ll say the girl also seduced men of faith? We all know her beauty has become famous across the Seven Kingdoms, but I didn’t expect even men of the Faith here would be chasing after sin…”

Suddenly, someone mocked them — and it was none other than that Dornish noble who liked to talk too much, making even Arya grimace at his offensive words, which sounded more like insults than compliments about her appearance.

“That’s not what I’m talking about!” the man growled.

“She knew we were there! She had already prepared for us! She set everything up like a witch! Her beauty is just a disguise while she and her bastard brother use magic from beyond the Wall and sleep together, practicing incest… You’ll burn in the seven hells! I swear the Seven will have no mercy for your sins, witch!”

He began spouting a string of vile accusations, leaving the crowd horrified.

He was spewing all kinds of nonsense in an attempt to slander Arya.

The immediate response was the sound of swords being drawn, with Jill and Bari snarling as they stepped forward.

“He’s insulting the princess like that! And dares to speak of the princess of Arctic, slandering her in this way?” Jill said, her tone venomous.

Everyone stood speechless at the man’s declarations.

After Jill had spoken her threat, Arya could see people whispering and pointing at her.

Cassandra looked deeply concerned among the servants, and Arya could also see the fiery anger in her eyes — shared by her entire family — aimed at that man.

Arya also noticed an intense gleam coming from the king’s side.

It was Cersei, looking rather pleased at what she was hearing — which Arya found amusing.

After all, despite her secret feelings for Jon, she didn’t sleep with him — and they weren’t even siblings.

Unlike the queen, who literally slept with her brother and had three bastards.

So it was a bit hypocritical of her to find this funny.

“Rip his tongue out immediately!” the king growled, outraged.

“Stop. Wait a moment, King Robert.”

The voice came from none other than Arya, while the man didn’t even seem afraid that his tongue might be taken.

The king turned his attention to Arya.

“He’s slandering you in front of everyone, in your own home. Will you let that go unpunished?” the king asked, raising an eyebrow, while her father looked at Arya with an unreadable expression.

“I believe he’s doing it on purpose, Robert Baratheon. Next, he’ll say I have wings and fly out of Winterfell at night. Maybe he’ll claim I can turn into a wolf,” Arya mocked, drawing a few light chuckles from those nearby.

And she continued:

“He’s doing everything he can to provoke. That’s exactly why he’s saying this — to offend me, and maybe lose his tongue for it. After all, he may not be the leader of the group, but he is one of their key voices. If anyone knows exactly what happened and who’s behind it… it’s him.”

She paused for a moment.

“All signs point to the person who sent the attack to try to kill me being in this very room.”

She declared, immediately stirring a reaction from everyone listening.

The queen’s satisfied glint vanished instantly.

She knew, in that moment, that Arya knew.

And worse — she might have gathered proof. That made her worried.

“What do you mean by that?” Robert asked, confused, while Ned gave an uneasy glance toward the king.

He was angry, but held himself back. Arya could handle it — at least until he needed to step in.

“I’m saying, King Robert, that someone inside this very room orchestrated the attack. Someone who knew very well that I would go hunting a few times in the wolfwood during breaks over the past few days.”

She let everyone absorb that information before continuing.

“This person observed it, left the group to try to ambush me when I entered the forest with only one companion, knew there was a scout watching me, and pulled back into the woods to warn his comrades. That’s when I alerted my brother, so he could bring men to stop them while we caught them by surprise.

But their intention was to kill me — there’s no doubt about that.” Arya said.

She had deliberately made herself the bait. That was why her father had been so angry upon hearing about it.

“How can you prove this?” the queen suddenly spoke, her tone laced with sarcasm.

“Or are you going to use your magical powers, witch?”

She had already sensed the accusation coming her way.

Arya could feel the tension rising among her royal guards. Even her father and brother looked furious with the woman.

People began turning their attention to Cersei, their faces filled with sarcasm and suspicion.

But Arya could see the worry in her eyes. She was nervous — cornered — so the lioness lashed out first.

“Funny to hear that coming from you, Queen Cersei…” Arya began, her tone far from respectful and full of mockery, as she reached into the pocket of her winter cloak.

“You know what this is, Cersei Lannister?” Arya continued, holding up the letter and watching as the queen began to pale.

She was clearly not comfortable with Arya managing to gather proof from those men.

“This is a letter addressed to the militant Faith,” Arya raised the letter high for all to see, turning her focus entirely to the queen.

“That’s a lie! That’s the witch’s manipulation!” the man who had shouted earlier spoke up again — just before receiving a blow to the head from a Stark guard.

“You’re not allowed to speak,” he was silenced by Jory, after Arya gave a slight nod as the commander of Winterfell’s guard, already anticipating the outburst.

“What is that?” the king ignored the commotion with the prisoners and turned to Arya, eyeing the letter.

“Wait,” Arya replied, then turned to Jory.

“Jory, bring the box. The one I left with you.” she requested.

He nodded, quickly leaving and returning with a dirt-covered box, which was placed in front of the king and opened to reveal several letters.

“These are the proofs of how they were acting.

We were lucky they didn’t destroy them.

What’s more interesting is how the queen’s name appears among the signers of this letter — as a sponsor of the ambush that was attempted against me.”

“I must ask, queen…

Did you plan to have me killed?” Arya asked openly, leaving everyone in the room — at the very least — horrified.

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