"Westerosi Chess?"
Sansa repeated the name softly. She had never heard anything like it, though she had played tile games with her maidservants before.
Galon nodded. "Yes. Westerosi Chess."
Of course no one in the room knew what that was. He had invented the name moments ago.
He stepped closer, standing across from Sansa. "Allow me to show you how it works, my lady."
When she gave a small nod, he began taking out the pieces one by one. Then he flipped the box over and unfolded it flat.
Before their eyes, a board appeared, carved in alternating squares. Galon set the pieces in place with calm precision.
Soon, a full set of what he remembered as chess appeared on the board.
Robb, who had been lingering at the doorway, finally stepped nearer and peered over Galon's shoulder.
"This is the gift you spoke of?" he asked. "The thing no one has ever seen or heard?"
"It looks almost the same as tile games."
Galon smiled. "It was inspired by them. Westerosi Chess is a new way to play."
"Two players. One commands the dark pieces, the other the light. The one who traps the enemy king wins."
Robb was impressed that Galon had created a new game, but he still shook his head slightly. I thought you would bring jewelry, or a pretty trinket. Something girls like."
"But a game…"
He glanced toward Sansa and lowered his voice.
"If I had known, I might have stopped you. Beth and Jeyne look bored already. And if people hear of this…"
He could already imagine Northern lords laughing about the Glover boy offering a box of carved wood to his future bride.
Sansa and her friends did indeed seem unenthused. For the sake of manners, they said nothing.
Even Septa Mordane's expression cooled.
In her mind, Sansa was a highborn lady of great promise. That this Glover heir dared bring a mere game as a first gift felt like disrespect to House Stark itself.
She was already thinking of how to mention this to Lady Catelyn later.
Galon read the room clearly. 'I would love to bring her jewels,' he thought. 'If only I could afford them.'
Deepwood Motte was poor.
Very poor.
Rich in trees, poor in coin.
From the outside, the lands of House Glover looked vast. From Torrhen's Square to the western forests and the wild coastlines, their holdings were huge.
Yet most of that land was dense forest. Farm fields were rare.
For generations, the Glovers had lived deep in the Wolfswood, under the gaze of the old gods. They had never cleared the forest in any serious way.
Some said that in the age of the First Men, the Glovers had struck a pact with the children of the forest. Others whispered that Glover blood carried something of the old magic in it.
The house neither confirmed nor denied. In truth, their wealth lay in fur and timber.
Four forest clans lived under their protection, hunting the woods and trading pelts to Deepwood Motte.
Those pelts were sold for coin, and that coin was spent on food, tools, and weapons.
When Galon took charge of the family vault, he found lots of steel and leather.
Not many shining trinkets.
When Ned's letter arrived, inviting him to Winterfell, he had not been concerned about mustering soldiers. He could summon two thousand seasoned men if needed.
But a personal gift for Sansa Stark? That was another battle entirely.
He could not present her a knight's sword and call it a day. Gifts should match the heart of the one receiving them.
If the girl had been Arya, a fine blade might have won her over at once.
But Sansa was not Arya.
Raised under Catelyn's careful eye, Sansa had studied music, song, dance, and the graceful arts of noble ladies.
She loved things that were delicate, refined, and proper.
A rough Northern trinket would do her no favors. Yet rare gems and golden necklaces were far beyond what Deepwood Motte could spare.
So Galon had stood in the storeroom staring at rows of armor and blades, wondering how to turn steel and wood into something worthy.
Then the idea came.
Not from gold.
From wood.
What if he carved a game for her? Something that demanded thought and strategy.
In all of House Stark, Sansa alone, he believed, would one day be truly suited for the game of thrones.
What better gift than a game of minds?
Deepwood Motte was full of skilled carpenters. Galon had described each piece in detail, and the craftsmen had worked through the night to shape this first set.
Now, seeing the cool reception, he was not surprised. He had expected it.
So he simply smiled and spoke on.
"Before I came here, I did consider jewels," he said. "Truly."
"But I decided against them."
Arya chimed in at once. "Why?"
Galon gave her an approving look, then answered loudly enough for everyone.
"Because I searched and searched and found nothing that could make Lady Sansa more beautiful."
"In my eyes, her beauty is a gift from the old gods. Any ornament would only spoil it."
"So I chose instead to bring something unique, something that carries my thought and effort."
"Which led me to create Westerosi Chess."
His gaze settled on Sansa, whose cheeks had flushed at the praise.
"Forgive my boldness, my lady," he said gently.
"Half a year ago, I asked Robb about your likes and dislikes. He told me you favored gentle pastimes."
"So I wondered if I might craft a game made especially for you."
Galon stood in the center of the room, speaking clearly while every ear listened.
"Ordinary tile games do not ask much of the mind. They do not suit someone as clever as Lady Sansa. But Westerosi Chess is different."
He gestured to the board.
"The rules are simple. The depth is not."
"To win, you must trap the enemy king. To do that, you need patience, talent, and clear thought."
"You must read every move your opponent makes. You must think like them while staying two steps ahead."
Sansa's eyes began to shine.
She had never heard a game described that way.
Galon turned slightly toward Robb.
"It is like leading an army to war," he said. "You must think of supplies, scouts, terrain."
"You must guess the enemy's plans and hide your own."
As he spoke, he seemed entirely at ease, confident, and focused.
Sansa watched him, fascinated. Someone had gone to all this trouble for her.
Had invented a game.
Had carved pieces.
Had thought not of gold and glitter, but of her mind. 'He must care for me very much,' she thought, blinking.
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