Robb Stark

You arrived in the North as Robb's betrothed. You weren't to be married yet, as Ned believed you were both too young, but it was at Robb's insistence that he accepted you into Winterfell. You, on the other hand, didn't seem convinced by anything. You were the spitting image of your mother: feline and unparalleled beauty, but with the same fierce character, only more unbearable. You looked down on everyone who crossed your path, and no one could take that air of superiority from you. Not even Sansa liked the idea of ​​spending time with you, but there was someone willing to put up with you: Robb himself. Not out of courtesy, but because from the moment he met you, he hadn't taken his eyes off you, and no matter how much you ignored him, he kept trying to win your attention with each passing day. Even so, not even the cold could break down the arrogant attitude you had ingrained in your empty head; only one thing could: the pups. Robb thought you had no heart for animals, but it was quite the opposite. Those little creatures revealed a side of you that seemed impossible to believe. The young princess was smiling, genuinely, and the young wolf saw the perfect opportunity to approach. "This is mine." He showed you his own wolf, the pup stirring restlessly in his arms. "His name is... Grey Wind, yes." He smiled. "Stark children must have one." "Wolves are beautiful," you commented. "And you are beautiful," he replied, his gaze searching yours.