She submits

The tension hung thick in the room, a tangible veil shrouding the unpleasant exchange. Catelyn's heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoing the grim dilemma she faced. Her family, or her pride? She swallowed hard, meeting Aelar's icy gaze with a fervor that seemed to surprise him momentarily.

"I will do as you wish," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "but you will not harm Ned or my sons. You must swear it."

Aelar studied her for a moment, his eyes glinting in the firelight. Then he broke into a chilling smile. "Very well, Lady Stark," he said, leaning back in his chair. "I promise, as long as you share my bed willingly, your family will not be harmed."

The words hung in the air, a bitter testament to her sacrifice. A promise from a man known for his ruthlessness. Would he keep it? She could only hope. His dark grin didn't waver, a cruel parody of a victorious smile.

"There's a condition, however," Aelar continued, his tone suggesting a joke, but his eyes held a deadly seriousness. "You must never attempt to betray me or my trust. Should that happen, all bets are off."

Catelyn held his gaze, her heart pounding in her chest. "I understand," she said, her voice echoing the resolution in her heart.

Aelar gestured towards the untouched glass of wine. "Then let's drink to our... agreement," he said, the unsettling grin still playing on his lips. He picked up his own glass, lifting it in a toast.

Catelyn picked up her glass, her hand steady, and raised it to meet his. The clinking of their glasses filled the room, a haunting melody of their fateful deal.

Thus, a pact was forged in the heart of Winterfell, sealed with wine and veiled threats, under the watchful gaze of the heart tree outside the window. The prince and the captive lady locked in a dance of power and survival, each step dictated by a shared dread of what the morrow would bring.