Spartan Princess - Robb Stark

3 | admiration

CHAPTER THREE | admiration

"duty-he was only doing it because he had to."

___

THE PEOPLE OF THE
north wasted no time to begin preparations for their gleeful celebration-Princess Calla had arrived no more then a couple hours ago, yet the people already happily accepted her . The children watched her in awe, blushing when she smiled at them kindly.

In no time, her handmaidens would be finished preparing her for the feast, and she would be off to meet her to-be family. The north was a beautiful place, but she was far from ready to call it her home.

Meanwhile, the woman squealed and spoke excitedly of the handsome young lord whom Calla would soon call her husband.

"Did you see the way he looked at you, my lady?" Liliana grinned, finishing up her princess' hair. "He didn't even glance at your mother!"

"And your mother is the most beautiful woman in Sparta," Milly, the oldest of her handmaidens, winked.

"I heard the commoners speaking when I went out to find more hair pins," Lora, the third handmaiden pitched in, "they've been saying you're even more beautiful than Cersei Lannister-and she is the most beautiful woman in all seven kingdoms."

"If that's so, why don't you marry the prince, instead?" Liliana wondered, "Rather than freezing down in the north?"

"A deal was struck," Calla smiled sadly. "I am to marry the man my father choses."

A knock sounded at the door just as the handmaidens finished with Calla's hair. Milly was quick to swing it open, but not wide enough for the three other woman to catch a glance at the outsider.

"My lady," Milly grinned. "Robb Stark wishes to show you to the feast."

* * *

The Stark boy hadn't waited for long. The Spartan princess had appeared through the door as quickly as her handmaiden had shut it. Once again, though, she wore nothing more than a dress made of thin fabrics made for the summer heat of Sparta rather than for the crisp-coolness of the north.

The dress failed to cover her arms, showing thin, toned biceps. The younger girl's skin was evenly tanned and glowing under the dim lighting of the castle's corridor. Calla's eyes illuminated an emotion he couldn't quite read, but his heart ached as he realized it was similar to that of reluctance.

She did not wish for a marriage.

Robb ignored the feeling of self pity that burnt his throat, "my lady, I would like to lead you to the feast, if you would have me."

"Of course," she responded lightly, forcing a kind smile unto her lips and looking up at him with kind, yet emotionless eyes. "I apologize if I've kept you waiting, my lord."

"No longer than a second, my lady," Robb smiled softly.

"Calla is alright, my lord. I am to be your wife."

"So then you should call me Robb, I am to be your husband."

She took his arm, and they walked down the emptied hallway and toward the room where the feast would be held. Calla hadn't noticed that Robb purposely slowed their pace, relaxed and steady, and hoping to start a conversation that would continue through the night.