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Catelyn
凯特琳
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.
在凯特琳·史塔克眼中，儿子罗柏新铸的王冠，宛如一顶重担，沉沉地压在他头上。
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伦·史塔克向征服者伊耿臣服时便已失传。他把王冠献给了伊耿，而伊耿对之如何处置，无人知晓。今天，凭着霍斯特公爵手下铁匠的优良手艺，罗柏的王冠正如故事中形容的那样，宛如史塔克先王：青铜铸造的冠冕，上刻先民的符文，九根长剑形状的黑铁尖刺挺立其中。这顶王冠没有黄金、没有白银、没有珠宝装饰，惟有钢铁和青铜，沉暗而坚硬，正是对抗严寒的冬之金属。
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.
他们在奔流城的大厅里静待囚犯。她见罗柏把王冠往后推，安放在蓬厚的棕发上。没过多久，他又往前拉，接着转了转，好像这能让他戴得更舒服。戴王冠不是件容易事啊，凯特琳边看边想，对一个年仅十五的孩子而言，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.
等犯人带入，罗柏便命取剑。奥利法·佛雷剑柄在前，递了上去，儿子抽出宝剑，横放于膝，威压的意图非常明显。
