Dacey found it amusing from where she was, standing at the edge of the solar with her arms crossed.
Her eldest had taken to his duties well enough in the month since Karlon had ridden to Winterfell.
The harbor ledgers were in order, the garrison rotations were unchanged and unchallenged.
Most of the fleet’s duties were handled by Ser Donnel Locke, who stood at the solar’s corner in his leather brigandine, the two silver keys of House Locke worked into his purple surcoat.
He watched the proceedings with an easy smile, understanding enough of his station to let a young lord find his feet without letting him stumble too far in the finding.
Maester Edric had the floor at present, his chains catching the grey morning light through the solar’s narrow window.
“There is the matter of Saltmarsh, my lord,” he said, addressing Alaric directly, which Dacey noted with approval.
“Two families disputing the fishing rights on the shallows of the village.
Lord Karlon proposed a concession before he departed, a rotation of the contested waters, three days to each family in turn, reviewed again come autumn.” “Have the two families proven to be trustworthy to carry the terms?” Alaric asked.
“No, my lord.
Neither wishes to be seen accepting less than the other believes is owed to them.” Maester Edric shook his head.
“I believe a representation of Frostkeep is required to make sure Lord Karlon’s orders are adhered to.” Alaric was quiet for a moment, his fingers now only resting on the arm of the chair in that similar way that Karlon used to do when he was deep in thought.
“Send my aunt, Lyra.” He said, finally.
“Give her an escort of six men and have her oversee the division herself.
She is my father’s good-sister and won’t be so easily ignored.
The families will respect that she’s come from Frostkeep directly rather than simply receiving a written ruling.” Dacey allowed herself a small, private smile.
It was a good answer, better than she might have given at that age.
Her instinct would have been to ride out and settle the matter personally, with considerably less patience than the matter required.
“A sound choice, my lord,” Maester Edric said, and made a note of it.
“Is there other business, Maester?” she asked.
“One matter, my lady.
A raven arrived late last night, after the household had retired.
From Winterfell.” He produced a sealed letter and crossed the solar to place it in her hands rather than Alaric’s.
She raised a brow as the seal bore both Karlon’s and Lord Eddard’s mark.
Dacey broke the seal and read, eyes widening in surprise at the end of it, “Well, that’s interesting.” Alaric’s brow furrowed.
“Mother?” She looked up at her son, six-and-ten and looking very much like her father it was uncanny.
And yet she couldn’t help but see him as that same child that she had brought into this world all those years ago.
“Congratulations, Alaric,” She said.
“You are betrothed to Lady Wynafryd Manderly, Lord Wyman’s eldest granddaughter.” Maester Edric’s brows rose with surprise before giving a small smile at the supposed good news.
Ser Donnel let out a short bark of laughter.
“The Manderlys, eh?
Well, well now.” Alaric himself had gone very still in the chair, clear surprise in his expression.
Dacey looked at the letter again, though she had already absorbed everything it said, simply to give herself a moment to compose her own reaction into something useful for her son.
She certainly could see the merit in the match.
Her marriage with Karlon had bound Frostkeep to Bear Island, Jorah’s friendship and his marriage to Lynesse had bound it, by extension, to a piece of the Reach.
Robett Glover was to be the heir to Deepwood Motte and a captain of one of Karlon’s ships besides, thus tying it to the Glovers.
Frostkeep as a whole was strongly tied with most of the western houses in the North, not to mention that Karlon himself was a Stark and brother to Lord Eddard.
The Manderlys were the last and largest thread.
White Harbor had been the North’s only significant port for a thousand years, and a marriage between the western fleet’s heir and the eastern fleet’s house bound the entire coastline of the kingdom into a single web.
It was exactly the kind of match Dacey would have expected her husband to engineer, no doubt with help from his brother and his lady wife.
She herself knew of Karlon’s hatred of the south, so she never even entertained any possible southron matches.
‘Indeed, the Manderly’s are a fine house.
Not to mention the potential message it could send across the Seven Kingdoms…’ Alaric let out a breath.
“I didn’t expect it to come so soon.” “Few things do,” Ser Donnel said with a light chuckle.
“You’ve nothing to fear, my lord.
Lady Wynafryd is said to be a great beauty, entirely unlike her grandfather, gods be good.” “Don’t let Lord Wyman ever hear you say that,” Dacey said with good humour, recognizing the jest.
“House Locke and House Manderly have been friends for decades, my lady,” Donnel said.
“My uncle Ondrew, Lord of Oldcastle, has been close with Lord Wyman since before I was born.
I can vouch for the family beyond mere reputation, if it’s wanted.
They are good people.
Proud of their city, prouder of their name, but good people.” Dacey nodded, filing that away.
It was useful to know, and it was the sort of thing Donnel would not have offered unless he believed it mattered to say.
“Thank you, Ser.” She turned back to her son, who had recovered some of his composure but still looked rather uncertain.
While it was her hope that he would find love in his marriage like she had with Karlon, she knew it was something that took time and could not be determined from the beginning.
“Are you certain you’re well, Alaric?” “I am,” he said, and took another breath, steadier this time.
“I only need a moment to think of it properly.” “Take your moment,” she said.
“There is no urgency in it beyond what’s already in the letter.
You are to ride to Winterfell as your father and uncle request your presence.” She suspected that it was to meet with Wynafryd before the betrothal was sealed in full, and likely to be present when the royal family’s visit reached its height.
She turned to Ser Donnel.
“He will need a proper escort,” she said.
“Who are Frostkeep’s best swords, Ser?” “Lord Karlon took the majority with him already, my lady.” Donnel rubbed his chin, considering.
“But I suggest ‘Red-Haired’ Walder, he is a loyal man and capable enough to lead the escort.” It took Dacey a second to put a face to the name.
Walder, one of the gate guards along with Fat Thom, who earned his name for his supposed ‘sun-kissed’ hair.
She nodded.
“See to it then.
Have it finalized by the day’s end, Ser Donnel.” Maester Edric cleared his throat.
“Perhaps, my lady, we should also send word to Lord Glover.
A request to have the roads through the Wolfswood cleared and watched, given how recently Lord Karlon’s own party passed through them.” “Do so, Maester.
Today, if you can.” “At once, my lady.” She looked back at her son once more as both older men excused themselves to begin their duties.
Alaric had settled into something steadier in the last few minutes.
“You’ll be fine,” she told him with a smile.
“I remember the days when your father was still busy courting me, the moment the betrothal was mentioned.
I’m sure you’ll do just as well.” Alaric nodded, and something in his shoulders eased.
… Later that day, at the hour of the eel, Dacey found Arella on the battlement that overlooked Greypool, perched on the low wall with her legs dangling over the harbor-side drop in a manner that Dacey had given up trying to fully discourage years ago.
“Arella.
Ready to go riding?” “Mhm!” Arella was already swinging her legs back over, dropping down from the wall.
“Is it true that Alaric’s getting married?” Dacey raised an eyebrow.
The letter had arrived after midnight, it was not yet midday.
“Where did you hear that?” Arella shrugged, brushing stone-dust from her skirts.
“People talk.” “Right…” Dacey shook her head.
It was always a mystery to both her parents how their youngest daughter managed to know things she wasn’t supposed to.
She seemed to always know what was said behind closed doors and was always the first to hear about information.
She and Karlon had tried numerous times to find out how, to no avail.
“Come on, then,” Dacey said, deciding the mystery could remain a mystery for one more day.
“Let’s find your sister.
It’s been too long since the three of us went hawking together.
I’m going to see how your riding fares now after being taught by your aunt.” Arella’s face brightened at the prospect of being outdoors and she fell into step beside her mother, already chattering about which of the mews birds she wanted brought out.
Check it out if you’re interested, at least chapter 15 (long form, which is around chp 28 in webnovel) should be available by the time this chapter was uploaded.