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The first-class lobby was warmer and stuffier than he'd expected on a ship cruising across the frozen waters of the North, but maybe it was just his nerves.
Jon was no good at this. He was no good with courtesies and beautiful words, he could not tolerate the polite masks that hide the rottenness of the nobility of Westeros.
Jon favored harsh and honest words, preferred enemies who showed their blades in a fair fight to those who hid them beneath their silks and waited for the moment their victims would turn their backs.
Still, he was here ... waiting for her. Wearing nice borrowed clothes, looking more Targaryen than Snow.
The Boltons were the first he saw. Roose, Lord of Dreadfort, and his son Ramsay, Sansa's fiance.
Jon opened and closed his fingers in an attempt to contain the urge to attack the two men with his own fists and end it now, but he couldn't.
The two dogs did not notice Jon mingling among the nobles as they circled and conspired with falsely sweet smiles and dark looks.
Minutes later Jon's heart skipped a beat before he realized his mistake. The long red hair did not have the same brightness and the blue eyes were not so crystalline.
Lady Catelyn descended the stairs accompanied by a man whom Jon assumed was Petyr Baelish, her new husband, and the man who had negotiated Sansa with the Boltons.
Jon intentionally hid behind an ornate column, he didn't want to be noticed until he saw Sansa, but he was not ignorant of his resemblance to the man he'd always thought of as a father.
Lady Catelyn would surely notice the ghost of her late husband in the crowd. Or maybe not. Jon thought as he saw her exchange a smile with her new husband.
He still kept his eyes on the four people he knew he would have to fight if he wanted to save Sansa when he felt watched.
Jon turned to look for his observer when he saw her at the top of the stairs.
She was staring at him like he was something worth looking at.
Bright blue eyes, parted pink lips. Her red hair was tied in an elaborate northern-style braid, and the blue dress studded with crystals made her look like an ice nymph.
He approached mesmerized as she descended the stairs holding her elaborate skirts.
He offered his hand and when their fingers intertwined he placed a kiss on the silk glove wishing for a second that contact would be on bare skin.
"My Lady ..." He greeted.
"My Prince ..." She replied.
"I'm not a prince" He disagreed, "Not really."
"You are to me."
Jon offered his arm to the beautiful lady who accepted him with satisfaction.
"Are you ready to do this?" She asked. "We're about to get into a pit of vipers."
Jon gently brushed a strand of red hair from his blue eyes.
"Vipers are no threat to wolves and dragons," he stated. "I'm ready."
****
Sansa shuddered under Jon's soft caress and had to control herself so as not to tilt her face toward his touch.
Vipers are no threat to wolves and dragons.
She took a deep breath, dispelling any trace of fear. She was a Winterfell wolf and had found her pack. With Jon by her side she would have nothing to fear.
They walked, confident and proud, among the highest nobility Westerosi.
Sansa had not felt that way for a long time, like a Stark of Winterfell, like a northern princess.
She was particularly impressed with the man beside her. The wild beauty she had seen in him the night before when he had pulled her back from near death to the safety of the ship had been converted to the elegance and grandeur of a true king.
I'm with you, Sansa and I won't let go!
She kept those words echoing in her mind as she approached the people who made her believe she was a prisoner before. No more, never more.
"Mother, my lords, you remember Jon." She introduced in a sweet voice, intentionally avoiding Jon's last name.
“Jon Snow, how amazing! You could almost pass for a Lord. ”Ramsay scoffed with a poisonous smile.
"Almost," Jon agreed. "Just like you. Curious how bastards always want more than they really deserve. ”
Sansa looked at Jon, impressed by his boldness or stupidity. Attacking Ramsay directly was never the best idea.
"I can't believe it ... you!" Sansa heard her mother exclaim in acknowledgment.
"Lady Catelyn, nice to see you again," Jon said politely.
"Ned Stark's bastard, what a small world." Petyr spoke with a knowing smile. "Apparently the rumors that you were killed on the wall were wrong."
"Yes, there have been many mistakes." Jon said not smiling.
Dinner was a tense occasion where appearances needed to be kept.
The Lords and Ladys of the North, Vale, and Riverlands surrounded them. Roose and Petyr could not make mistakes if they did not want to risk their loyalties.
However, Ramsay's murderous glances and Bealish's conspiratorial smiles did not let Sansa be deceived by the false appearance of peace.
"Tell me Lord Snow, how are the third class accommodations on this ship?" Ramsay decided to tease.
Silence fell over the table as all the Lords and Ladys stared at the young man wearing Ned Stark's face.
"Jon Snow is visiting us from third class tonight, as a thank you for your heroic deed in saving Lady Sansa's life," Petyr explained to the others.
"They are the best I have ever seen, my lords." Jon answered without shaking. "There are fewer rats than on the wall, and it smells better than Kings Landing."
Several of the nobles laughed at his witty response and Sansa couldn't help but smile proudly.
"And how do you have the means to travel, boy?" Sansa's mother questioned. "Surely a bastard and defector of the Night's Watch should not have great possessions in his name."
“I work from place to place, wherever strong arms or a talented sword are needed, but the ticket for this ship I got in a lucky poker hand. "
He exchanged a small smile with Sansa.
"A very lucky hand."
"All life is a game of luck." Lord Royce agreed.
"A real man makes his own luck, isn't he, Snow?" Petyr teased with a knowing smile.
"Or so they say," Jon replied.
“And do you find this kind of rootless existence appealing?” Sansa felt her mother looking at her as she asked the question, surely she expected Sansa to hear her disapproval.
“Yes, my lady. In my time beyond the wall I learned that I have everything I need with me. I have air in my lungs and blood in my veins, I have some clothes to keep me warm at night, and I have my arms and legs to fight for anything that matters to me. ”Jon looked around the table, his last sentence sounded almost like a warning.
“I like to wake up in the morning not knowing what will happen, who I will meet, where I will end up. A few months ago I thought my life had come to an end bleeding in the snow and now I'm here. I found my pack and I'm eating and drinking with men and women that Ned Stark has already called friends.”
Sansa watched her mother look down, almost embarrassed, as the Lords and Ladys exchanged uncomfortable glances after her father was mentioned.
“I believe life is a gift and I don't intend to waste it. Gold and titles worth nothing after your honor is negotiated. Lands and castles make no sense if it can't protect who you love. I prefer to take my life and do something that can be remembered with it. Make each day count. ”
Sansa raises her cup in a toast.
"Make it count," she said, staring into Jon's in a secret vow that only he would understand.
“Make it count!” The Lords and Ladys around her followed her openly while Petyr, Roose, and Ramsay didn't know what to do with their cups.