While Robb has lost all hope about going home a long time ago, he tries to remain hopeful for the future and for the friends he made here. That role as the North's young king is something far away from him. He is just Robb now. No king, not even a lord, just a young man travelling.

There had been times where he had been watching Neria from afar, wondering how it would feel if his hand would be holding hers. How it would be to cover her lips with his. But everytime such feelings came up he squashed them immediately, thinking about Jeyne, his queen. The only woman he should love.

But here he sat right next to her, his fingers wrapped around her hand and he can't look at her. Even the thought about Jeyne waiting for him isn't working anymore, her face had become blurry and her voice...he could not even remember her voice anymore. His heart hammers inside his chest and he watches how his fingers slide over her hand after she had squeezed his hand back.

"I perceive myself as the lucky one here." Robb still isn't looking at her, his fingertips tracing the knuckles of her hand slowly. He is everything but good at admitting to his feelings. "If it weren't for you I would have...not been able to cope with any of this."