She curtsies, sensing the sudden shift in his mood and bearing. He wasn't Robb any longer, not the man that she loved and the man whose bed she shared. He was king and the warrior that had seized the Crag. It wasn't a side of him that she had seen in a long while, not since he left to continue further in the Westerlands. There was a part of her that wanted him to refuse to let her leave, to insist in keeping her somewhere that he could visit, where she could raise their sons. However, she knew he was wed and had no place in his life.

She pulled her hood over her head, ragged and torn from the harsh weather. She was a nobleman's daughter, but it seemed to exist in bearing only. There was nothing noble about her any longer. Without a word, she slipped out of the tent and returned to the inn.

***

The twins were fussy that evening, not having eaten very well or gotten much sleep. Though this was the only existence they had known. Cold and difficult conditions that gave little comfort to them all.

The stables were secluded, very few had stopped at the inn and bought a room. There was a vacancy, but the stables were all that Jeyne was given. Having spread a blanket in one of the stalls, she bounced one of her sons on her knee, trying to hush his cries. He was so loud that she missed the sound of someone entering the stables.