Chapter 3

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Tyla was ranting about something her brother had done earlier in the day. But Alysanne's thoughts were locked on the sparring session going on in front of her. Robb had already knocked the crown prince to the ground during their match and now Bran and little Prince Tommen were preparing to spar themselves. "You are not listening to a word I'm saying are you?" Tyla snapped.

"Sorry," Alysanne winced, "I'm just-"

"-you want to join in like you usually do and get your arse beat by Robb and Theon," Tyla said.

Alysanne turned to her, offended, "I do not get my arse beat by Robb and Theon."

"Most of the time, you do."

"Theon's older than me and Robb has been practising for longer than I."

"I meant no offence," Tyla placated, "you beat them all with a bow, Aly." Alysanne pursed her lips but conceded the point, she was better with a bow and she did often lose spars to her brothers and Theon.

"-for children Ser Rodrik." Joffrey's voice drifted back into Alysanne's consciousness.

Theon let out a sharp laugh. "You are children," he said derisively.

"Robb may be a child," Joffrey said. "I am a prince. And I grow tired of swatting at Starks with a play sword."

"A prince two years Robb's younger," Tyla said contemptuously.

"You got more swats than you gave Joff," Robb said. "Are you afraid?"

Prince Joffrey looked at Robb with a blank expression. "Oh, terrified," his voice was as deadpan as his expression. "You're so much older." Some of the Lannister men in the party around Joffrey laughed.

"What are you suggesting?" Ser Rodrik asked, tugging thoughtfully at his white cheek whiskers.

"Live steel."

Alysanne felt her eyes go wide at the suggestion. "There is no way Ser Rodrik allows that."

"Live steel is too dangerous. I will permit you tourney swords with blunted edges," Rodrik said.

"See."

Joffrey didn't respond but a large man with black hair and a burn on his face, the Hound, pushed forward in front of the prince. "This is your prince. Who are you to tell him he may not have an edge on his sword, ser?"

Aly cut her eyes back to Ser Rodrik, she saw his face tighten when he looked at the Hound. "Master-at-arms of Winterfell, Clegane, and you would do well not to forget it."

"Are you training women here?"

"I am training knights," Ser Rodrik said pointedly. "They will have steel when they are ready. When they are of age"

Joffrey scowled from behind Clegane. "How old are you, boy?"

"Fifteen." Robb said sharply.

"I killed a man at twelve. You can be sure it was not with a blunt sword."

Robb bristled, turning to Ser Rodrik. "Let me do it. I can beat him."

"Beat him with a tourney blade then," Ser Rodrik said.

Joffrey shrugged. "Come and see me when you're older, Stark. If you're not too old."

Alysanne saw Robb take a breath and she decided she should probably intercede before he exploded. "If the prince is too scared to face you, then I am available brother."

All eyes turned to her. Alysanne jumped over the fence she had been leaning on and walked toward her brother.

"Ahh, want to lose again little sister," Robb teased, the tension that had filled his body easing.

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