In the quiet of the smaller room now assigned to Jon and Mary, Shadow’s smoky form hovered over a stack of parchment and ink. He had taken it upon himself to teach Jon to read and write, as the boy’s appointed tutor was neglectful at best. Jon, ever eager to learn, sat cross-legged on the floor, his dark eyes focused as he traced letters onto the parchment with a quill. Shadow guided him patiently, his glowing eyes flickering with approval as Jon’s skills improved.


    Mary, however, was another matter entirely. She sat nearby, her white hair a tangled mess and her tail flicking restlessly behind her. Shadow had tried countless times to sit her down, to teach her even the simplest of words, but she refused to listen. Instead, she growled and yelped, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief as she lunged at Shadow, trying to play with his smoky form.


    Shadow sighed, a sound that was more a ripple in the air than an actual noise. He wondered about Mary’s condition. Was it autism? Down syndrome? He had read about such things in the ancient tomes of Winterfell’s library, but he couldn’t be sure. Jon, her twin, could speak—albeit sparingly—but Mary had never uttered a single word. Her growls, yells, and hums were her only language, and her wild behavior only fueled the whispers of the household.


    “A curse,” the servants muttered. “A mark of Lord Stark’s infidelity. The gods’ punishment.”


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    Shadow’s glowing eyes narrowed as he watched Mary tumble across the floor, her tail wagging furiously. He had never seen a human with a tail before, and though he knew the world was full of mysteries, this one troubled him deeply. Was Mary truly cursed? Or was she something else entirely—a child touched by the returning tide of magic?


    For now, Shadow could only watch and wait. He continued to teach Jon, his pride swelling as the boy’s skills grew. And though Mary refused to sit still, Shadow never stopped trying to reach her. He brought her gifts—shiny pebbles, feathers, and trinkets—and played with her when she demanded it.


    As Shadow observed them, a thought began to take shape in his mind—a thought that troubled him deeply. Jon, calm and steady, was the only one who could keep up with Mary’s chaos. The servants avoided her, whispering of curses and ill omens. Catelyn’s disdain for the girl was palpable, and even Ned, though kind, was often too preoccupied with the duties of Winterfell to give her the attention she needed.


    Shadow wondered if he should prepare Jon for a lifetime of caring for Mary. The boy was young, but he was responsible beyond his years. He already followed Mary like a shadow, ready to catch her when she fell or to clean up the messes she left behind. But was it fair to place such a burden on him? To tie his life so completely to hers?


    Mary let out a sharp laugh, her tail wagging as she tackled Jon, sending the parchment and quill flying. Jon didn’t protest; he simply chuckled softly, brushing snow from his hair as he gently pushed her away. Shadow’s glowing eyes softened as he watched them. Perhaps it wasn’t a burden, he thought. Perhaps it was a bond—one that neither of them would ever break.