Farewell Banquet

When the sound of horses' hooves and cheers came from the front yard, Joffrey and Bran were in the armory watching the instructor sharpen a longsword.

The screeching sound of the grinding wheel rubbing against the sword blade gradually stopped, and everyone turned to look at the triumphant team.

Robert rode at the very front, his chest puffed out high.

His smug look was as if he had just won a great victory.

A huge creature was being pulled on the cart behind him.

Its dark brown mane was as stiff as steel needles, and two scimitar-like fangs protruded from its upper jaw. Even in death, a final fierce glint remained in its small eyes.

Judging by its size alone, this wild boar probably weighs thirty shi (a unit of weight).

"Ned, I told you you had to throw away that broken bow and arrow!"

Robert's loud voice echoed throughout the courtyard.

"You came out with me all day and didn't even catch a rabbit." He leaped off his horse with surprising agility. "Come and see this big guy I caught!"

The guards and servants in the city gathered around and let out a low gasp of surprise.

Robert got even more excited, waving his thick arms and spitting as he spoke.

"Damn it!"

"When it charged at me, they all told me to run, but I stood still until the beast was right in front of me..."

He made a swift forward thrust.

"Just one thrust! My boar-hunting spear pierced through his throat and all the way to his anus!"

The exaggerated gesture drew cheers from the surrounding crowd.

Robert turned and saw Joffrey, who strode over.

"It's such a shame you didn't come! You missed witnessing your father's heroic deeds." He grinned and patted Joffrey's shoulder again with his blood- and mud-stained hands.

"Don't make excuses next time. I'm going to pass this skill down to someone!"

Evening is the climax of this hunt.

Just as when they arrived, Winterfell was once again brightly lit, and a farewell banquet was being held.

Everyone was already tired of those similar dishes.

All eyes were focused on the roasted wild boar in the middle of the hall.

The chef placed it on a specially made iron rack, where the skin was baked until golden brown and crispy, with oil dripping continuously into the charcoal fire below, producing a sizzling sound and an enticing aroma.

Robert sat in the head seat and his mouth never stopped from the start of the banquet.

Holding a roasted pig leg in one hand and a wine glass in the other, he recounted the hunting experience over and over again.

There are always new details.

How big was the wild boar? How fierce was it when it charged? How calm was he? How precise was that spear strike?

The audience cheered again and raised their glasses to toast the king's bravery.

But Joffrey only needed to look at Duke Eddard's forced smile to know that he, like himself, was filled with worry about the future.

"What a pity, you really should have gone today." Robb leaned closer, his cheeks flushed red from the alcohol and excitement.

"Theon nearly fell off his horse when the boar charged out of the bushes!"

Theon Greyjoy, on the other side, flashed a mouthful of white teeth: "I'm just adjusting my stance, getting ready to shoot it with an arrow."

"Nonsense, you're so scared you dropped your bow."

"That's because the king suddenly shouted, 'This guy is mine!' I didn't have time to stop, so I deliberately threw him out."

The two started bickering, with Joffrey smiling along, but his eyes wandering elsewhere.

Bran and his brother Rickon were sitting a little further away, secretly feeding chunks of meat to the furry little wolf under the table;

Sansa stood demurely beside her mother, occasionally stealing glances at Joffrey, only to quickly look away when their eyes met.

Jon and Arya, on the other hand, probably couldn't stand the long banquet and disappeared somewhere.

Joffrey sipped his strong ale, his gaze sweeping across both ends of the long table.

Cersei sat at one end, and Jaime sat at the other.

The two were separated by a whole hall full of people.

There wasn't a single exchange all night, not even a turn of the head towards the other person.

Even the Queen gracefully cut the food, occasionally whispering and laughing with the noblewomen beside her.

Everything was too peaceful.

The calmness felt very unusual.

The banquet continued until late at night.

When the story of "The King vs. the Wild Boar" was told for the fifth time, even the wild boar's inner thoughts during the charge were made up.

Robert finally let out a satisfied burp and waved to dismiss the party.

People gradually got up, and the servants began to clean up the mess.

Joffrey called out to the swaying Bran at the door.

The boy had been running around with him all day, and now that it was so late, his eyelids were drooping, and he was walking as if he were sleepwalking.

"We're leaving tomorrow." He crouched down, his gaze level with the boy's.

Bran rubbed his eyes and mumbled an "Mmm".

"So, get a good night's sleep tonight and don't go climbing, okay?" Joffrey looked at him with concern.

"I'm tired from playing today... of course I'm not climbing." Bran covered his mouth with his hand and let out a long yawn.

Joffrey breathed a sigh of relief as he watched the boy walk away.

He did it.

Throughout the day, he kept Bran firmly by his side and avoided all possible danger zones.

The twins also didn't have a chance to be alone.

The team will set off tomorrow morning.

As long as we can get through tonight safely.

After returning to his room, Joffrey did not go to sleep immediately.

He paced back and forth in the dimly lit room, the thick carpet absorbing the sound of his footsteps.

[Stargazing] is still in the cooldown period; Joffrey cannot see what will happen tonight.

In the past few days of deliberation, he used his skills on Littlefinger in King's Landing.

They wanted to see if this guy had done anything under the sun while they were away.

After all, things are under control in Winterfell.

Because of his interference, Bran had no chance to get close to any tall buildings, go to all the places he wanted to visit, and say goodbye to all the people he wanted to say goodbye to.

It should be foolproof.

But the inexplicable unease that Joffrey felt grew stronger and stronger.

Time passes little by little.

He forced himself to lie down on the bed and closed his eyes.

In his dream, he arrived at a strange place.

Dark and cramped.

He was climbing, his hands and feet gripping the loose bricks and stones, the cold mud seeping into his fingernails.

Looking up, the tower spirals upwards, stretching into the indistinct darkness.

He climbed for a long time.

Finally, they reached an open window.

A crow perched on a nearby gargoyle statue, its dark eyes fixed intently on him, unblinking.

Then, with a flick of its tail, it dropped a stinky pile of bird droppings.

He ignored it, and just struggled to sit up, desperately trying to see what was inside the window.

A hand suddenly reached out from the shadows.

That's not a human hand.

It was formed from a deeper darkness, with a blurred outline and faint black mist emanating from its edges.

Silent and swift as lightning.

The moment the cold touch touched my chest.

The feeling of falling came suddenly.

Joffrey woke up with a start and jumped out of bed.

Then he wiped his forehead.

"That poor kid, he's even in my dreams."

Joffrey rolled out of bed and pushed open the wooden window, the cold night wind blowing away the sticky, cold sweat on his body.

The castle remained asleep, with only a few scattered lights from the patrolling guards moving back and forth on the walls.

Just then.

A mournful wail echoed from the courtyard.

Sharp, painful, it shattered the tranquility of the night.

That wasn't a human voice.

It is a wolf.

Bran's direwolf.