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Catelyn
凱特琳
Her son's crown was fresh from the forge, and it seemed to Catelyn Stark that the weight of it pressed heavy on Robb's head.
在凱特琳·史塔克眼中，兒子羅柏新鑄的王冠，宛如一頂重擔，沉沉地壓在他頭上。
The ancient crown of the Kings of Winter had been lost three centuries ago, yielded up to Aegon the Conqueror when Torrhen Stark knelt in submission. What Aegon had done with it no man could say. Lord Hoster's smith had done his work well, and Robb's crown looked much as the other was said to have looked in the tales told of the Stark kings of old; an open circlet of hammered bronze incised with the runes of the First Men, surmounted by nine black iron spikes wrought in the shape of longswords. Of gold and silver and gemstones, it had none; bronze and iron were the metals of winter, dark and strong to fight against the cold.
冬境之王的古老王冠早在三百年前托倫·史塔克向征服者伊耿臣服時便已失傳。他把王冠獻給了伊耿，而伊耿對之如何處置，無人知曉。今天，憑著霍斯特公爵手下鐵匠的優(yōu)良手藝，羅柏的王冠正如故事中形容的那樣，宛如史塔克先王：青銅鑄造的冠冕，上刻先民的符文，九根長劍形狀的黑鐵尖刺挺立其中。這頂王冠沒有黃金、沒有白銀、沒有珠寶裝飾，惟有鋼鐵和青銅，沉暗而堅硬，正是對抗嚴寒的冬之金屬。
As they waited in Riverrun's Great Hall for the prisoner to be brought before them, she saw Robb push back the crown so it rested upon the thick auburn mop of his hair; moments later, he moved it forward again; later he gave it a quarter turn, as if that might make it sit more easily on his brow. It is no easy thing to wear a crown, Catelyn thought, watching, especially for a boy of fifteen years.
他們在奔流城的大廳里靜待囚犯。她見羅柏把王冠往后推，安放在蓬厚的棕發(fā)上。沒過多久，他又往前拉，接著轉了轉，好像這能讓他戴得更舒服。戴王冠不是件容易事啊，凱特琳邊看邊想，對一個年僅十五的孩子而言，尤其如此。
When the guards brought in the captive, Robb called for his sword. Olyvar Frey offered it up hilt first, and her son drew the blade and laid it bare across his knees, a threat plain for all to see.
等犯人帶入，羅柏便命取劍。奧利法·佛雷劍柄在前，遞了上去，兒子抽出寶劍，橫放于膝，威壓的意圖非常明顯。
