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Chapter 202 - Chapter 203 Political Marriage

"This girl refused to come see you. She said you sold her off and gave her a fiancé out of nowhere." Aegor set Arya down from his shoulders and nudged her toward Robb. Before the girl could speak, he complained, "She also threatened to make me take her back to Winterfell or she'd tell everyone I touched her butt."

"Heh..." Even with her hair cropped short, Robb recognized his sister at a glance. As someone who had watched Arya grow up, he naturally knew her temperament well. Without hesitation, he chose to believe Aegor. "Alright, Arya, I apologize. It was my fault for making this decision without consulting you. But these are extraordinary times, and this marriage is very important... Still, I promise no one will rush you into it."

"Hmph..." Arya avoided Robb's hug, ran over to a chair in anger, and sat down. But the moment her rear hit the chair, she jumped back up, wincing. She turned away, eyes brimming with tears, and refused to look at either of them again.

---

In the original story, Catelyn had gone to negotiate with the Freys at a crucial moment when the Northern army desperately needed to move south. In order to cross the river, she had been forced to make many concessions, including marrying Arya to a Frey and Robb to one of Lord Frey's daughters. But now the storyline had drastically changed. With the Freys already bound to the Starks through marriage, they had firmly aligned themselves with the North and remained at the front lines in the war against the Westerlands...

Since the eldest son had already married into the Frey family, it would be inappropriate for House Stark to send one of their two daughters to curry favor with a house of lower standing once again. That initial marriage had already been a boon for the Freys. To do it a second time would be excessive.

So, who would Arya marry now?

After all, Aegor was technically the girl's master, and he subconsciously felt a sense of responsibility for her. Motivated by gossip and curiosity, he couldn't help but ask.

"Harrold Hardyng, heir to Robert Arryn. We all call him 'Harry the Heir'." Robb didn't try to hide it—it was common knowledge. "It was Grandfather Hoster's idea. He wrote to me saying this would solidify the alliance among our three houses."

"So it's him." Aegor suddenly understood.

After Lysa Tully was sent back to Riverrun due to a letter she wrote, her frail, manic, and epileptic son Robert Arryn—Eddard Stark's nephew—became the last blood connection between the Vale and the Wolf-Osprey alliance. If he died, the alliance with the Vale would no longer have a foundation in blood, and one built solely on friendship would be unstable. Not to mention that prominent First Men nobles like Yohn Royce, who supported the North, had recently been taken to the Wall by Robert during a rebellion.

Arya Stark's marriage to Harrold Hardyng would ensure that even if the current Lord of the Vale died, the future Lady of the Vale would bear the Stark name. The alliance among wolf, osprey, and eagle would still hold.

Using marriage to stabilize alliances had always been Lord Hoster's specialty... And judging by Robert Arryn's condition, there was a good chance he would die without leaving an heir. In this context, what lay before Aegor now was a highly consequential political marriage. It was no exaggeration to say that Arya bore a heavy burden. She could not afford to be willful.

---

"It's a reasonable arrangement." After learning the details, Aegor quickly adopted the tone of a benevolent elder and considered it from Arya's perspective. "But I think the girl has the right to meet her fiancé first."

"Of course. Here's what we'll do. Tomorrow, I'll find an excuse to summon Ser Harrold to the conference room downstairs. Then, Arya, you can pose as a squire and get a good look at your future husband." Robb eyed Arya's tomboyish look, her short hair, and knew he couldn't let her meet her fiancé looking like this. "As far as looks go, Ser Harrold has a slender and well-proportioned figure. He's reasonably handsome. Uncle Brynden even said he resembles Lord Jon Arryn in his youth. So just in terms of appearance, you could do worse."

Arya shook her head firmly. "No, no, no. I heard people outside say he already has several bastards!"

"Bastards..." Robb was momentarily speechless. Having grown up under the guidance of Eddard Stark, he naturally saw this as a stain on the man's honor. But he couldn't dwell on it. "Bastards won't affect your or your children's right to inherit the Vale."

"To hell with inheritance rights! Who wants to have babies with him?" Arya stamped her foot, only to wince in pain from the earlier spanking.

"You're swearing again!" Aegor muttered under his breath about Tyrion leading the girl astray and glared at her. "You eat well, wear good clothes, have a horse to ride when you want to learn riding, and someone to teach you swordsmanship when you want to learn that. Even after getting yourself into a serious mess, I—an officer of the Night's Watch who should stay neutral—risked everything to bring you home. Why? Because your last name is Stark! You're happy to enjoy everything your family gives you, but when it comes time to fulfill your duty to your family, you throw a tantrum and pretend none of it applies to you?"

That reasoning might have convinced an adult, but a child wouldn't listen: "I don't care... Whatever... If you force me to marry him, I'll... I'll die right in front of you!"

"You girl, what nonsense are you spouting!" Robb frowned. But he had always spoiled his sister, and Arya no longer feared his words or expressions. He held no authority in her eyes, and his words were less effective than Aegor's.

"What do you mean we're forcing you..." Aegor finally realized that he was overstepping. Arya refusing her family's marriage arrangement was a private matter for House Stark. How could a swordsmanship instructor persuade her? It was like a dog chasing a rat—pointless and only inviting trouble for himself.

Once he understood that, he immediately said goodbye to Robb. "Arya's been delivered safely. I'll go prepare now. I leave for the Golden Tooth tomorrow to escort the Kingslayer to the Wall. Also, my lord, please inform the lords along the Kingsroad in advance. I don't want any enemies of the Lannisters blocking my way or launching an ambush."

"No problem. I'll write tonight." Robb nodded. "And I'll assign you a hundred men to ensure you and the Kingslayer make it to the Wall safely."

"That's perfect. If there's nothing else, I'll take my leave. You two haven't seen each other in a long time. Have a proper talk."

"Mm."

As Aegor walked toward the door, he heard Arya grumbling behind him, "Why me? Why not Sansa? She's older than me and loves marrying this and that! Why can't she be the Lady of the Vale?"

"She's still Joffrey's betrothed. We can't marry her to Harry unless the engagement is officially annulled. Only when Joffrey joins the Night's Watch and their engagement is recognized as void can we make other arrangements..."

"What!" Aegor stopped in his tracks and spun around. "Joffrey's taking the black too... You're letting him and the Kingslayer... reunite as father and son at the Wall? Aren't you worried that something might go wrong?"

"The three bastards are on Dragonstone now. Stannis said that was Father's will... Well, let him decide all that after I rescue Father from King's Landing." Robb looked resigned. Though he acted like a confident commander at the war council, he was still a teenager. It was his first time truly taking charge, and he was actually quite nervous. After thinking it over, he suddenly called out to Aegor. "Wait, I just remembered—I'll be leading the army to King's Landing soon. It's not safe for Arya to go with me, and I don't trust anyone else to watch over her... Since you're heading back to the Wall, why not take her to Winterfell on your way? That way, I won't need to assign another escort."

"No! He spanked me!"

"Stop being ridiculous, Arya!" Robb finally lost his patience after being pestered for so long. "You can either go back to Winterfell with Aegor, or I'll hand you over to your fiancé and have him protect you during the march. Choose one!"

Arya pouted, snorted, and glared at Robb for a long time. Seeing he wasn't budging, she glanced at Aegor with a wounded look and finally gave in. "Fine, then I'll go home."

(To be continued.)

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