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Winterfell
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She reached for the wine and poured them both a glass. She handed one to Cersei.
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I am good, your grace.
Would you like some wine?
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My company?
Of course, your grace. How do you fare?
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I don't know. Seems like everyone is moody.
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“Your Grace."
Catelyn greeted, her voice even though cool beneath its courtesy. Despite her mistrust of the Lannisters, she was polite.
“It seems the gods have a cruel fondness for placing Stark and Lannister beneath the same roof. —
"Arya."
Cat said affectionately, as she hugged her daughter tight.
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"Are you teasing me, Ser Arthur? He wants you to marry one or his daughters. The honor would be his as he likes to say."
She jested.
"I'd rather die than marry a Frey. I need to start paying attention then. I won't allow my father to marry me to one of them."
She could hardly stand Walder Frey let alone his sons.
"Those were my thoughts exactly which is why I figure she will marry someone else."
She smiled and took a sip from her cup. She bites gently on her lower lip.
"I haven't even thought to look, Arthur. So I suppose, no one has because of that."
"He is dead set on Lysa marrying Jaime Lannister. For whatever reason, I do not understand. She will probably end up betrothed to a Stark or Arryn."
Herself? She didn't really see herself with anyone particular. Not that she has a choice in matter.
"I am as well as I can be, Ser. Father is still insisting me and my sister marry soon."
She chuckled and shakes her head.
"Thank you for the wine."


