Book 1: Chapter Three

The first time she notices the white wolf, she is stood atop one of the many covered balconies that look down into the courtyard, watching the world pass by beneath her. The courtyard is not as noisy as it sometimes is, and Hyewon is stood a few paces away, keeping a respectful distance. It is the first time in what feels like weeks that she has had some peace and her eyes follow the soldiers as they train with staffs in the arena below her. In Highgarden the soldiers had been stationed far away in the castle, which was so huge it had sometimes felt like a city unto itself. There, she had been able to wander the orchards and the gardens, pray in the most beautiful sept outside of Kings Landing and always there was a singer or minstrel on hand to entertain herself and her hoard of ladies. Here, the sept is a small, dank affair made for a former lady of the household from Riverrun, a week’s ride south of the border. When she prays she is always alone, the northerners instead choosing to pray in the godswood, to the old gods of the north. In the godswood sits a Heart Tree, its white trunk marred only by the ancient carving of two eyes and a mouth. The red wood below the bark makes it seem as if the face is bleeding.

There are no minstrels or singers to be found at Winterfell, and the northerners avoid her as if she is the pestilence. Though she occupies herself with trips into the town and attempts to lose Hyewon, there are moments when she cannot ignore how utterly alone she is. She misses Highgarden with an ache that sometimes feels as if it will consume her, crowding in her gut and working up until she is strangled by it, and her fingers curl around the railing of the balcony as she works to clear herself of the emptiness settling around her shoulders. She is Lady Sakura of House Tyrell and she refuses to be cowed by this strange and stoic place.

Her gaze is caught then, her attention diverted from her misery, by the sight of the white direwolf. It is not strange to see the direwolves in Winterfell. At least one always accompanies Eunbi, wherever she goes, but the others are often to be seen wandering around the castle, or returning from hunts in the forest. The white wolf is often to be found at Eunbi’s side, but today Sakura meets the beast’s eyes and feels a shock. Its eyes are so blue that she can see them even from her place on the balcony and it feels as if she is staring into the face of someone she knows, or knew in another life. So humanoid are its features that she has to fight to look away, when she hears footsteps approaching down the balcony.

Prince Yujin approaches, a youthful smile on his face, and he stops a few paces away from her, giving a neat bow. He flicks his floppy hair out from his eyes when he looks back up and straightens his tunic. Sakura wonders whether he is one of these young noble boys who grows so quickly his clothes have to be adjusted every few days. He looks the type, his body too tall for him.

“Lady Sakura, how nice to find you up here.” He takes a step closer, and she turns to give him a small smile, bowing her head.

“And you, your highness.”

He gestures to the balcony, “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” She takes a small step to the side and the prince fills the gap that she has made, leaning against the railing and looking down at the courtyard. When Sakura follows his gaze, she sees that the wolf is gone.

“How are you, here in Winterfell?”

“Fine, your highness,” She answers, automatically, and the prince seems to think on it for a moment, before saying.

“I had to stay in Bear Island, with my uncle Lord Mormont’s family when the war was going on,” He speaks calmly, but Sakura turns to look at him with surprise, “I was younger then, but I remember it being scary. Though I was around family, and with my own people, I felt so out of place and odd and lonely, I almost wept with joy when they told me the war was won and I could go home.” He turns to give her a smile, “Not very manly.”

“You were only a boy,” She acquiesces and he nods.

“I only say this in hopes that you will see that I understand… I was lucky to be with people that I knew, and people who loved me. You must feel very far from home and from what you know.”

The words bring an unexpected shadow of the emptiness back with them, and she stares out at the courtyard for a moment, answering very softly. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t want anyone to feel that way here. It is my home, I would hope everyone would feel welcome.”

“What did you do to feel better, when you were on Bear Island?”

At her question, the prince’s face lights up with another boyish smile, and he offers his arm in a way so gallant it’s most disarming when matched with his youthful persona. “May I show you, my lady?”

Pressing down an amused smile, Sakura bobs a curtsey and takes his arm, allowing him to lead her. She knows the castle well enough by now that she realises where they are going and struggles not to balk. The prince must feel her hesitation, because he pauses and looks at her with concern.

“Are you well, my lady?”

“Of course, I just-” She looks to where they are going, the little building built up against the stable wall, and struggles not to wrinkle her nose. “The kennels, your highness?”

“Just try it? Please, my lady?” The pleading look he turns upon her is witchcraft, she’s sure, because she sighs and presses her lips together, nodding reluctantly and allowing him to lead her on.

“Of course, your highness.”

The kennels are dark and warm, filled with straw and the barking of dogs. The floor is dry, smooth earth and the loft allows a place for the dogs to lie around when the earth below becomes too wet or cold or hot. In the corner is a pile of blankets, where the dog boy will sleep to keep an eye on the hounds during the night. Torches burn on the wall, lighting the place up, and on a plump pile of straw sits a greyhound, her tongue hanging from . She lies on her side, belly exposed for the writhing pups to le at her teats. They are old enough to have their eyes open and they nip and yap at one another, fighting for a place, but the is unfazed by their arguing. Every so often, she will at a passing pup, grooming them until they squirm away, but otherwise she is almost asleep.

Prince Yujin gestures for the dog boy, and the boy lifts himself from his nest of blankets and approaches them. There is straw in his hair but Sakura is more focused on the pup in his arms, a wriggling little bundle of white and gray fur. He is feeding it with a soft cloth, dipping it in milk and holding it out for him to le. When Yujin holds out his arms, the boy deposits the pup into his arms. Sakura watches the prince’s face soften, his arms gentle around the small creature. The pup squirms and whines and the prince feeds him from the rag.

“His mother rejected him because he’s the runt.” The prince’s voice is quiet, “But with the right care he can be just as strong.” He looks up at her, “Would you like to touch him?”

She is not known for enjoying animals, apart from the beautiful white mare she had ridden in Highgarden, but the prince’s eyes are so pleading that she feels she has to reach out and touch the little beast in his arms, its soft coat.

“In Bear Island I tried to keep busy. The kennel master let me help him, I rode a lot. Animals are the same no matter where you are,” He meets her eyes and smiles. “They just need to be treated with kindness.”

She runs her fingers down the coat of the puppy, touching at the soft fur and the pup squirms away from the milk soaked cloth and at her fingers. The warm, wet touch makes her jump and when the prince laughs quietly, she smiles.

“If you would ever like some company, someone to ride with you or show you the wonders of the north, I would be honoured,” He offers her a charming smile and Sakura thinks, with a fond flutter of her heart, that in a few years maidens will be fawning over him and he won’t even realise.

“My lady,” Hyewon steps into the doorway, from where she has been lingering just outside, and bows her head respectfully. Sakura steps closer to her, as the prince turns and deposits the runt pup back into the dog boy’s arms. Behind Hyewon, in a woolen cloak, stands Haruppi, the only southern handmaiden who had stayed with her on her trip to the north. The girl has family here, so she is not as good company as Sakura had expected, but she is a welcome reminder that she is not alone, and Sakura welcomes her with a smile.

“Haruppi, what are you doing down here?”

“I have brought you letters, my lady.” She holds out the first one and Sakura takes it to run a finger over the yellow sun and moon of House Tarth.

“Lord Kimm,” She smiles, a little surprised. Lord Kimm of Tarth had visited Highgarden several times. As the nephew to the king, he had been readily welcomed, and as he had grown her father had that Lord Kimm had taken a shine to her. Despite being third in line for the throne, no union had been formed between them, but he had once kissed her in the orchard and she remembers that his skin had been unusually smooth and his lips had tasted of apricots.

“Another letter, my lady. It came from the capital today.” Haruppi holds it out and Sakura reaches, curious, until she spots the rose of House Tyrell in the blue of House Tully- her mother’s house.

She drops her hand before it can touch the parchment and turns away. “Burn it.”

Haruppi frowns, hesitating, “But, my lady, it's your mother’s-”

“I said burn it.” Her voice is so sharp that Haruppi startles, and nods, turning to hurry away.

There is a moment of silence and all of the warmth that she had felt moments ago burns away at the reminder of why she is here. It is easy when she is being treated kindly to forget tha