Maybe that was his fault. He had assumed that it would be simple to send Theon to his father with peace terms. Theon had always been casual and warm during their youth, but never truly conflicted. Or maybe he never looked clearly at what his friend suffered, assuming that he was comfortable, given his father treated Theon well. His mother warned him, but Robb never saw, never really recognized anything, only what was on the surface.

He asked too much of Theon, another failure of his judgement. Robb could only look back with a measure of regret and frustration at his inability. He was supposed to be a king, a leader, but he was still a boy in the end. "I shouldn't have sent you." He frowned, looking at the ground. It was easier than meeting Theon's eyes again.

He had been too sharp and harsh with Theon, both calling him brother and then later telling him he wasn't a Stark. How many stones did he lay in the pathway to his downfall? How much of this was built out of his own hubris? "You were my brother-" No matter what he said.