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Hearing the unified cries around him, like waves on a storm-tossed sea, Robb had no idea when he had gained the title of the Hungry Wolf.
However, seeing the excitement written across the faces of the lords, he let out a silent sigh and accepted the name in his heart.
In White Harbor, Lord Wyman had already told him about the general state of Westeros during the month Robb had spent on the Narrow Sea, cut off from all news.
Renly Baratheon, in Highgarden, had married the "Rose of Highgarden," Margaery Tyrell, and with the support of the nobles of the Reach and the Stormlands, he had been the first to proclaim himself king.
Soon after, Stannis Baratheon had also crowned himself on Dragonstone, declaring that Joffrey and Renly were both false kings, and that he was the only rightful heir to the Iron Throne.
At that moment, being raised as king was perfect for Robb. It would have a tremendous effect on the unity of the northern lords.
"I thank all of you for your trust!
In the near future, we will surely overthrow the false king's rule and gather before the Iron Throne!
Beyond that, after this journey south, I have felt the North's poverty even more deeply.
When this great army marches south, I will take you with me, and I will also bring back the South's endless wealth, so that our North may become just as prosperous!"
After waiting a while, smiling as the shouts gradually faded, Robb, now accepting his new title as King in the North with ease, thanked the nobles and laid out his vision of a better future.
"Now, I ask that all of you proceed to the council hall. I need to settle some family matters, and I will soon meet with everyone to discuss the march south."
Hearing his words, the lords in the yard rose one after another and, exchanging comments among themselves, headed toward Winterfell's council hall.
Lord Rickard deliberately waited until last to stand. Approaching Robb tensely, he asked in a low voice.
"Your Grace, I noticed Eddard's expression was not right... and I also did not see Torrhen..."
"I'm sorry, Lord Rickard. Torrhen died in King's Landing."
Before Rickard could even finish, Robb gave the explanation he had already prepared.
"Haa... hu..."
Although he had already suspected it deep in his heart, hearing the confirmation clearly made Lord Rickard struggle to accept it. He breathed heavily several times.
After composing himself a little, his eyes already reddened, he continued asking.
"That boy... he did not suffer before he died, did he?"
"No. It was a clean blow to the heart."
Robb shook his head and answered sincerely.
Rickard, completely devastated, nodded slowly and murmured to himself.
"If he did not suffer... then that is good... that is good..."
At that moment, Eddard approached from behind. After giving Robb a grateful look, he went to his father and supported him.
"Father, Torrhen's conduct in King's Landing was exactly as you always taught us.
He fought bravely until the end, like a blazing sun in the heart of winter."
Hearing that, Lord Rickard gripped his eldest son's right hand tightly, as if afraid of losing him as well.
Looking at Eddard as he supported his father toward the council hall, Robb held him in even higher regard.
Eddard knew how to lead armies, and he was also steady in how he dealt with people. In King's Landing, he had never once opened his mouth to beg Robb to spare his brother's life.
Because he knew perfectly well that Robb was different from Lord Eddard Stark. He would never forgive betrayal.
Aboard the Wind Witch, Eddard had spoken sincerely and asked Robb to keep the fact that Torrhen had been a traitor secret.
For Robb, that was a small concession that would allow him to win the deep loyalty of a valuable subordinate. So he accepted.
After Robb agreed, Eddard personally asked everyone who knew the truth to keep the secret.
However one looked at it, he was undoubtedly a good subordinate, a good son, and a good brother.
Without continuing to think about it, Robb turned and walked toward Catelyn and Sansa, who were still holding each other.
Seeing him approach, the people around them tactfully stepped back, leaving them enough space.
"Mother, forgive me. I failed to bring Father back."
As soon as he reached her side, Robb lowered his head and spoke in a guilty tone.
Hearing her son's voice, Catelyn released Sansa from her arms, sniffed once, wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes, and turned to him with a forced smile.
"Robb, that was not your fault. Sansa told me. It was your father who chose to stay.
You managed to bring Sansa back, and for now, Arya is not in danger either. For me, that is already enough.
If I had lost both of them as well... perhaps I truly would have gone mad."
"Mother, I promise you that I will bring Arya back, safe and sound."
Robb could clearly sense the pain Catelyn was forcibly suppressing, and without hesitation, he made the promise.
"I believe you. I always thought you were stronger than Ned.
Now, you have lived up to what he hoped for you. You have become the King in the North."
Catelyn raised her hand and caressed her son's face. For an instant, she seemed to see Eddard behind him and seemed momentarily dazed. Only then did she come back to herself and continue.
"Go to the council hall. Discussing military affairs with your vassals is what matters most now."
"Yes, Mother. Then I will take my leave. Let Sansa stay with you for now."
Robb understood perfectly what was most urgent. He nodded to his mother, then turned to Crey and Gendry, who were standing nearby, and said:
"Crey, come with me. Lord Medger clearly wanted to speak with you earlier. You can talk properly afterward.
Gendry... are you willing to attend this meeting as my squire?"
"At your command, Your Grace!"
"I am, Your... Your Grace!"
Hearing this, Crey immediately bowed respectfully.
As for Gendry, who had never received any formal education in etiquette since childhood, he simply imitated Crey's manner and answered the same way.
Robb nodded and headed toward the council hall with the two of them.
...
Inside Winterfell's now familiar council hall, with Jory organizing things, his wounded leg having largely recovered, all the lords were already seated, speaking quietly among themselves.
"Your Grace!"
As soon as Robb approached the entrance, everyone stood at the same time and bowed to him.
Now gradually beginning to grow accustomed to this form of address, Robb responded with a smile and a nod, then walked to the raised section of the hall and said in a clear voice:
"My lords, be seated!
The subject of our discussion today is the overall plan for the march south.
First, tell me... how many soldiers has Winterfell gathered by now?"
"Your Grace! More than a month ago, in response to the call to rescue Lord Eddard, we gathered nearly fifteen thousand men within two weeks.
After the news from King's Landing arrived, each house sent another nine thousand soldiers.
Adding to that the nearly seven thousand men from Winterfell's military camp, we currently have around thirty-one thousand northern soldiers assembled in Winterfell."
Since Theon, Smalljon, and the others were in the military camp, and Robb still did not know the exact number of gathered troops, he had asked the question directly.
But as soon as he finished speaking, Ramsay rose from among the assembled lords with a smile on his face and answered promptly.
"Hmm, more than I expected. Thank you, Lord Ramsay."
Seeing Ramsay so proactive in trying to please him, Robb nodded and answered. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, he continued.
"By the way, since you have shown loyalty to your liege lord and rendered great service by delivering the Dreadfort to me, I now ask everyone here to bear witness.
From this day forward, Ramsay Snow shall be called Ramsay Bolton!"
"Your Grace, your loyal vassal, Ramsay Bolton, will fight for you forever, from this day until the last day of my life!"
Hearing Robb officially legitimize him as a Bolton, Ramsay's face filled with emotion. He knelt on one knee and loudly declared his loyalty.
"Very good. Then I look forward to seeing you conquer all my enemies in the wars to come."
Robb nodded with a smile, cooperating with Ramsay in that flawless display of loyalty between sovereign and vassal.
After Ramsay sat back down, Robb continued:
"Now I will lay out the strategic objective of this campaign south!
The primary objective... is to exterminate House Lannister and behead the false king, Joffrey Hill!
The secondary objective is to gather the wealth of the South to ease the North's poverty!"
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