Chapter 2: Lady Starkton's Nerves and Lord Eddard's Conscience

The morning after the royal visit descended upon Wintermere Park with the particular quality of light that follows a decision: grey, unforgiving, and thoroughly disinclined to pretend that yesterday had not occurred.

Lady Catelyn Starkton was already at her writing table when her husband came down, which was itself a communication of some precision. She did not look up. The household accounts were open before her, though she had not written a word in them for the past quarter hour, which Eddard observed and did not remark upon as he poured his coffee and took the chair across the room that managed, by its angle, to suggest both proximity and a prudent distance.

"He has gone out," Eddard said. "Shooting. I believe the intention is genuine this time."