GOT: My Secret Lover is sansa-Chapter 102

Damn, Alaric thought, a rare, faint smirk touching the corners of his mouth. Now that is a reward.

Where Red Priestesses worshipped the Lord of Light, and where a certain Targaryen girl was destined to bring dragons back to the world, absolute fire immunity wasn’t just a perk. It was a god-tier cheat code.

He dismissed the glowing blue window with a blink.

Behind him, the heavy thuds of maces crushing bone finally stopped. The five Blood Knights stood still among the mangled corpses of the Dreadfort cavalry. Their jagged armor dripped with fresh Northern blood.

The surrendered Lannister soldiers huddled together in the mud, deathly quiet. They looked at the dead Northerners, then up at Alaric.

Alaric stepped over Roose Bolton’s bleeding body and walked back to his horse. He grabbed the reins and pulled himself smoothly into the saddle. He didn’t look tired at all. The sun was breaking through the gray clouds, and he could actually feel the [Solar Forge] passive activating, pumping fresh energy into his muscles like warm adrenaline.

Rivy drifted out from the shadows of the tree line, gliding silently over the muddy ground before curling around the hooves of Alaric’s warhorse.

Alaric looked down at the Lannister captains kneeling in the dirt.

"Strip the dead of their rations and bind yourselves in lines of twenty," Alaric ordered, his voice echoing over the quiet battlefield. "If one man in your line tries to run, my knights will kill the other nineteen. Move."

The Lannister men scrambled to obey, dropping their pride entirely. They grabbed ropes and began tying each other up.

Jaime Lannister was dragged to his feet by one of the Blood Knights and practically thrown onto the back of a plain brown gelding. His hands were securely locked in heavy iron cuffs, attached to the saddle horn.

Jaime looked at the slaughtered Dreadfort men, then over at Alaric. The arrogant, mocking light in the Kingslayer’s eyes had been completely extinguished. He looked exhausted, his golden armor caked in mud, sweat, and Bolton’s blood.

"Where are we going, ward?" Jaime rasped, spitting a wad of bloody saliva into the dirt.

"South," Alaric said flatly. He turned his horse toward the main road. "To join my army at kingsroad."

Alaric kicked his horse into a trot. The heavy, rhythmic stomping of the Blood Knights resumed as they fell into formation around him. The long line of Lannister prisoners began a miserable, muddy march behind them.

...

Four days of riding brought Alaric to the main Northern camp. Thousands of gray tents and campfires covered the fields near the kingsroad. Banners of the direwolf, giant, and sunburst flapped in the wind.

Horns blew when the guards saw riders coming. But when the men recognized the Stark banners and Alaric’s giant red-and-black knights, the horns stopped. Soldiers pointed and yelled out to each other.

Alaric rode at the front. The soldiers stepped back to let his black horse pass. A heavy wooden wagon rolled right behind him.

Greatjon Umber, Rickard Karstark, and Ser Rodrik Cassel waited by the command tent. They kept their hands on their swords. They looked at Alaric, then tried to look for bolton... but he was nowhere to be seen.

Alaric stopped his horse. He pointed at the wagon.

Two Blood Knights grabbed the wooden doors and pulled them open.

Ser Jaime Lannister sat on the floor inside. Mud covered his dented gold armor. Heavy iron chains locked his wrists together. 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

Nobody spoke. Thousands of soldiers just stared at the Kingslayer sitting in a wooden box.

"By the Old Gods," Ser Rodrik whispered.

Karstark took a step forward, squinting at the wagon. "Is that..."

"Well?" Jaime leaned his head back against the wood. "Are you going to stare all day, or will someone fetch me wine?"

The Greatjon stared, then burst into loud laughter. He threw his arms up. "He did it! The mad bastard actually did it! He brought us the Golden Lion!"

The soldiers near the wagon cheered. They raised their spears. The shouting spread fast, until the whole camp was yelling and banging their swords against their shields.

Alaric climbed off his horse. The lords stopped laughing and stood straight as he walked up to them.

"Lord Thorne," Karstark said. He looked at the tired men behind the wagon. "Where is Lord Bolton and his men??"

Alaric looked him in the eye. "Lord Bolton died in the first charge. He broke the Lannister lines so we could reach the Kingslayer. The Dreadfort men also died fighting."

Greatjon nodded. "A hard death. But a good trade. Tywin Lannister will shit himself when he—"

"Alaric!"

A woman’s voice yelled over the crowd. Soldiers stepped aside. Roslin Frey pushed past the guards. She wore a dark dress and a thick winter cloak.

She saw Alaric standing in the mud. She picked up her skirts and ran right at him, ignoring the lords and the staring soldiers.

Alaric braced his feet just before she hit him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled his head down, and kissed him hard.

The lords stopped talking. They just blinked, watching the Lady of House Frey kiss the ward of Winterfell in front of the whole army.

Jaime Lannister whistled from the wagon. "Well. At least someone gets a warm welcome."

Alaric put an arm around her waist to hold her up. He kissed her back for a second, then gently pushed her back.

Roslin stepped back. She heard Jaime’s joke. She looked around and saw thousands of men staring at her.

Her face turned bright red. She let out a small squeak. She quickly pressed her face into Alaric’s chest and grabbed his leather armor, hiding from the crowd.

A few soldiers laughed. Greatjon just crossed his arms and smirked.

Alaric chuckled. He kept one arm around her and put his other hand on the back of her head, stroking her hair. He looked up at the smiling lords. He narrowed his eyes. The men stopped smiling right away.

"Lady Frey has had a stressful few days," Alaric said. His voice was completely flat.

Nobody said a word.