[ Robb doesn't really consider himself gentle. He's been through at least a dozen battles, killed men, seen men die, executed people with his own hand (the man who passes the sentence carries it out), fought a war - he is not gentle. He almost laughs, but he doesn't. Instead, he sighs softly. The temptation to open himself is still there. There is still danger, though. Probably always will be. ]

My father tried to impress on me the responsibility that comes with ruling. It isn't about personal power. It's... You are not just responsible for yourself. You are responsible for all of your sworn bannermen, for the smallfolk who look to you for protection. It - well. You know what I'm going to say.

[ He shakes his head. ]

You probably know that, though.