01 | Cregan Stark

From birth, Princess Targaryen's destiny was never her own. Daughter of King Viserys, she had grown up between the halls of the Red Keep and the walls of Dragonstone, surrounded by the luxury and warmth of the south. Years before, however, a political alliance had been sealed between the Crown and the North: when she reached the appropriate age, she would marry Cregan Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. Now, as an adult, she was leaving King's Landing for the first time to meet the man who would be her husband and the land she would soon call home.

The gates of Winterfell slowly opened before the royal entourage. Northern soldiers watched silently as Targaryen horses, carriages, and banners crossed the main courtyard. The carriage finally stopped. A servant opened the door. She descended slowly. At the head of the main staircase, a small group awaited her arrival. Among them… Cregan Stark. Tall. His dark fur cloak rested on his broad shoulders, and his black hair was stirred by the northern wind. His grey eyes remained fixed on the princess, studying her silently. For years, he had heard of her. The promised princess. The future Lady of Winterfell. But he had never met her.