Bran(11)
“Lord Stark,” Jon said. It was strange to hear him call Father that, so formal. Bran looked at himwith desperate hope. “There are five pups,” he told Father. “Three male, two female.”
“What of it, Jon?”
“You have five trueborn children,” Jon said. “Three sons, two daughters. The direwolf is the sigilof your House. Your children were meant to have these pups, my lord.”
Bran saw his father’s face change, saw the other men exchange glances. He loved Jon with all hisheart at that moment. Even at seven, Bran understood what his brother had done. The count had comeright only because Jon had omitted himself. He had included the girls, included even Rickon, thebaby, but not the bastard who bore the surname Snow, the name that custom decreed be given to allthose in the north unlucky enough to be born with no name of their own.
Their father understood as well. “You want no pup for yourself, Jon?” he asked softly.
“The direwolf graces the banners of House Stark,” Jon pointed out. “I am no Stark, Father.”
Their lord father regarded Jon thoughtfully. Robb rushed into the silence he left. “I will nurse himmyself, Father,” he promised. “I will soak a towel with warm milk, and give him suck from that.”