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The Dungeons of the Twins.
It was even damper here than the black cells of the Red Keep.
Cold water droplets seeped from stone cracks, pooling on the floor into puddles of stagnant water emitting a moldy smell.
The back of Edmure's head throbbed with splitting pain.
Every heartbeat tugged at the nerves there.
Like someone repeatedly hitting it with a warhammer.
He was locked in a narrow cell, hands and feet chained by heavy irons.
"Awake?"
An old voice came from outside the bars.
Walder Frey's wrinkled old face, like a wind-dried ghost mask, was pressed against the bars.
In his small, cloudy eyes, undisguised malice and gloating flashed.
"My future good son-in-law, how do you feel?"
Old Walder's address made Edmure's stomach churn.
"Lord Walder, what promise did my sister give you to make you so willing?"
"What she can give you, I, a Duke, can also give you!"
Old Walder shook his head.
"No, child, you can't give it."
"Can you give me Lysa's body?"
"Will you personally act against House Tully because of the hatred between Hoster and me?"
"Can you give birth to an heir to the Vale?"
"Do you really think you are a Duke?"
"You are only nominal now; the King's decree hasn't come down yet."
"As long as you are obedient, not only the Riverlands will be mine, but I can also dabble in Lysa's Vale."
"And all this only requires acting against that whelp Lynn; his group of wildlings don't even have decent weapons and armor, nothing to fear, not to mention Balon of the Iron Islands is already preparing."
"Iron Islands, the Vale, the Riverlands, a three-pronged attack; I don't believe anyone can withstand it!"
"So, my good son-in-law, as long as you are obedient, everything can pass peacefully."
"But if you are disobedient... hehe..."
"I'd like to see if the bones of the Lord of Riverrun are harder than ordinary people?"
"Tell me, should I test the hardness of your bones now?"
Edmure ignored him, just turning his head to the other side.
He finally understood why Old Walder supported Lysa.
Are you kidding? He couldn't give Old Walder any of these things!
First, he wasn't a woman, couldn't satisfy Old Walder who only wanted to make babies when idle, nor satisfy his perverted psychology of conquering the Lady of the Vale.
Second, he couldn't give birth to a child with inheritance rights to the Vale, and as long as he was controlled, the Riverlands would also belong to this old dog...
Money couldn't buy him; saying more was useless; he could only show his stance with actions.
"Oho, hehe, quite got a backbone."
Old Frey wasn't angry either.
He clapped his hands; two sturdy, fierce-looking Frey descendants walked in and opened the cell door.
One of them was one of Walder Frey's most notorious sons, "Black Walder."
"Father asked me to teach you what rules are."
Black Walder grinned hideously, pulling a barbed whip from his waist.
Snap!
The whip tore through the air, whipping fiercely on Edmure's back.
The prisoner clothes were torn instantly; a bloody mark appeared immediately.
Severe pain made Edmure's body arch abruptly, but he gritted his teeth hard, not making a sound of pain.
"Yo, quite endureable."
Black Walder got interested.
Snap!
Snap!
Snap!
The whip fell again and again; every lash brought up a string of blood beads.
Edmure's back soon became a mess of flesh and blood, consciousness beginning to scatter.
He thought of his father, thought of his uncle, thought of the trout banner flying in the wind at Riverrun.
"Family, Duty, Honor..."
He murmured repeatedly in a voice only he could hear.
These three words were his last spiritual pillar.
"Still chanting your laughable motto?"
Black Walder seemed to hear a joke.
He stopped whipping, squatted down, grabbed Edmure's hair, forcing him to look up.
"Your family?"
"Your sister will lie in my father's bed, wagging her tail and begging like a dog, just to exchange for House Frey's support."
"Your honor?"
Black Walder spat on Edmure's face.
"Your honor is now under my feet, worthless!"
Edmure's eyes widened abruptly; bloodshot veins covered his entire eyeballs instantly.
"You... nonsense!"
"Nonsense?" Black Walder laughed even more cruelly.
"It seems you can't see the situation clearly."
"I'll let you see with your own eyes if I'm talking nonsense."
He stood up, winking at the other Frey.
That person brought in a banner from outside.
It was the trout banner of House Tully.
Black Walder took the banner, waving it in front of Edmure.
Then, in front of Edmure, he unbuttoned his breeches.
Using that banner symbolizing the glory of House Tully, he wiped his dirty crotch.
"No——!"
Edmure let out a heart-rending roar.
He struggled like crazy; the iron chains rattled loudly as he pulled them.
He wanted to rush up, wanted to tear these two bastards defiling his family honor into pieces.
But he was locked tight; he could do nothing.
He could only watch helplessly, watch that banner being thrown on the ground, trampled into dirty mud.
Edmure's spiritual pillar collapsed completely at this moment.
...
In the forest by the river beach, a luxurious tent was temporarily set up.
Incense burned in the tent, but that fragrance couldn't cover the rotten smell mixed with old age and desire on Walder Frey.
Lysa was naked, letting that withered, claw-like hand roam on her body.
She closed her eyes; what emerged in her mind was Petyr's handsome and ambitious face.
"Hehe... truly didn't expect that old immortal Hoster could father such a superb daughter like you..."
Walder Frey's voice sounded, panting right by her ear.
"Riverrun women are indeed different..."
"Is Catelyn the same as you?"
Lysa's body stiffened for a moment, then relaxed again.
She opened her eyes.
Looking at this old face pressing on her, a trace of imperceptible disgust flashed in her eyes.
But the corner of Lysa's mouth curled up in a charming smile.
"Lord Frey, as long as you like it."
Her voice was cloyingly sweet.
"As long as you can help me secure the Riverlands, not to mention me, even my sister, if you want, I can send her to you."
"She will definitely come to Riverrun."
"Hahahaha!"
Old Walder let out a burst of triumphant shrill laughter.
"Good! What a sensible woman!"
"Don't worry, as long as your useless brother obediently agrees to marry my daughter."
"I promise, in the entire Riverlands, except for our House Frey, no one dares to say no to you!"
"A Duke of House Tully becoming a live-in son-in-law for me..."
"Hehe, if that old thing Hoster knew, he would probably be angry enough to swim back!"
A trace of pleasure flashed in Lysa's eyes.
"His bones have been eaten by fish; how can he come back to life and swim back?"
Lysa's thoughts drifted away.
Father, do you see?
House Frey, whom you despised the most, has now become my strongest ally.
The son you were most proud of is about to become the laughingstock of the Seven Kingdoms.
House Tully, which you guarded all your life, will soon change its surname to Arryn, or... Frey.
This is the consequence of you forcing me!
If only you had agreed back then, where would there be so much trouble?
All this is caused by you!
You deserve it!
...
After an unknown amount of time, Edmure woke up from a coma.
He was taken out of the dungeon, changed into clean clothes, and sat in the banquet hall of the Twins, famous throughout the Seven Kingdoms.
The hall was brightly lit; long tables were filled with sumptuous food and wine.
Descendants of House Frey and those Tully bannermen summoned overnight gathered together.
Everyone smiled; the atmosphere looked warm and peaceful.
Edmure sat in the main seat like a marionette, expressionless.
Beside him sat Walder Frey and his sister, Lysa Arryn.
His back was still burning with pain.
But harder to endure than physical pain was mental humiliation.
Yes, he finally compromised.
After enduring a whole night of torture, he finally signed the "alliance" drafted jointly by Lysa and Walder Frey.
As the Lord of Riverrun, he would announce an alliance with the Vale to jointly oppose the "tyranny" from King's Landing and destroy Lynn, the upstart who "framed" Petyr!
At the same time, he would marry Walder Frey's youngest daughter, Roslin Frey.
Of course, the kind he could look at but not touch.
His status now was lower than a dog.
Moreover, Old Walder held his "alliance letter."
Called an alliance, it was actually his confession.
Including how he "murdered" his own father to seize power...
If he disagreed, Lysa would destroy Tully.
Without Tully's support, it would only take her slightly more effort; he knew this better than anyone now.
What he had to do now was ensure House Tully still existed, then find a suitable time to tell everyone the truth!
And he had tampered with the letter sent to Winterfell; his eldest sister Catelyn would definitely sense something wrong; she would definitely bring soldiers when coming here.
By then, that would be a perfect opportunity!
He decided to endure humiliation for the time being.
At that time, he wouldn't mind letting Lysa taste his anger!
"Everyone! Everyone!"
Walder Frey stood up tremblingly, raising his wine cup.
The hall fell silent instantly.
"Today is a good day!"
Old Frey's voice was shrill and excited.
"Not only do we welcome the new master of Riverrun, Duke Edmure!"
"We will also witness House Tully and House Frey, these two oldest families in the Riverlands, forge an unbreakable blood alliance!"
The bannermen below burst into friendly cheers and applause.
Most of them didn't know about the bloody case that happened on the river beach last night.
They only thought this was a political move by the newly appointed Duke Edmure, eager to win over the powerful bannerman House Frey to consolidate his position.
This was reasonable.
Even could be said to be wise.
With House Frey backing Edmure, anyone wanting to cause trouble had to weigh it first!
Unfortunately, Frey daughters were all ugly, hard to describe in words.
"Duke Edmure will marry my most beloved daughter, Roslin!"
"Our two families will join forces strongly to jointly protect the peace and honor of the Riverlands!"
Applause grew more enthusiastic.
Roslin?
That woman born frail, with fair skin, delicate features, dark chestnut long hair, and a pair of brown eyes?
Now no one thought Old Walder was deliberately putting on a show.
Because this daughter was the only presentable one Old Walder could bring out.
Such looks matching Edmure, a Duke, was reasonable.
Edmure looked at those familiar faces below.
They were bannermen of House Tully; their ancestors had fought bloody battles following his ancestors.
But now, they were applauding for his shame.
A smell of blood surged up his throat; Edmure swallowed it forcibly.
He knew, from this moment on, he was no longer the Lord of Riverrun.
He was just a pathetic puppet.
He counted entirely on his eldest sister Catelyn now.
...
The North, Winterfell.
A raven flew through the grey sky, landing on the highest watchtower of Winterfell.
The letter was quickly delivered to Robb Stark.
When Catelyn Tully saw the familiar wax seal on the letter, her heart sank abruptly.
A letter from Riverrun.
She tore open the envelope trembling; those blue eyes swept over the letter paper quickly.
Then, her body swayed, almost unsteady.
"Mother!"
Robb supported her quickly with keen eyes and hands.
"What's wrong?"
"My father... he..."
Catelyn's voice carried uncontrollable trembling and grief; tears burst forth.
"He passed away."
Robb's brain also buzzed.
Lord Hoster... although he hadn't seen him many times, that was his grandfather after all.
He took the letter and read it quickly.
The letter was written by Uncle Edmure; the handwriting was as scrawled and chaotic as always.
The letter said his father Hoster Tully died of illness.
Aunt Lysa Arryn had arrived at Riverrun for the funeral.
And he, Edmure Tully, as the new Lord of Riverrun, decided to marry into Walder Frey's family to consolidate the stability of the Riverlands.
At the end of the letter was Edmure's warm invitation.
In just fifteen days.
As the eldest daughter of House Tully, Catelyn must return to Riverrun as soon as possible to attend her father's memorial service and witness her brother's wedding.
Everything looked reasonable.
But Robb smelled an extremely dangerous scent from it.
"Mother, you cannot go back."
Robb's voice was incredibly firm.
"What did you say?"
Catelyn looked up abruptly, looking at her son in disbelief.
"That is my father! Riverrun is also my home!"
"No, Mother, don't rush first; this is too fast!"
Robb slapped the letter on the table.
"Grandfather has been sick for a long time; I remember four or five years, right?"
"And if I remember correctly, his health recovered a bit last year; no matter what, he shouldn't die suddenly."
"Why did he die immediately after Aunt Lysa arrived at Riverrun?"
"And Uncle Edmure!"
"He just inherited the dukedom, foundation unstable; why is he so anxious to marry into House Frey?"
"All of Westeros knows Walder Frey is a greedy and cunning old fox; he never does business at a loss!"
"If there were no benefits, he wouldn't agree."
"Edmure must have promised Walder something!"
"This letter reveals weirdness everywhere!"
"Robb!"
Catelyn's voice rose sharply.
Grief and anger made her lose her calm.
"That is my kin! My father died, my brother is getting married; I must go back!"
"This is a trap!"
Robb almost roared.
"Mother, going back now is walking right into a trap!"
"I'll tell you frankly."
"There must be something fishy in this!"
"I don't care!"
Catelyn snatched the letter, eyes full of determination.
"I am a daughter of House Tully; I must go back!"
"Even if it's a trap, I have to break through!"
During their argument, the letter paper was also torn apart.
A small slip of paper hidden in the interlayer also appeared in front of the two.
"What! Edmure has been controlled?"
"No, I must go over!"
It would have been fine if she hadn't seen this letter, but after Catelyn saw it, she became even more agitated.
Looking at his mother like that, Robb felt a deep sense of powerlessness.
House Tully people... always get hot-headed.
This was too stupid...
He thought of Lynn.
If Lynn were here, he would definitely have a way to persuade Mother.
But he received a letter three days ago saying Father and Lynn would return to Winterfell as soon as possible to discuss the next battle plan.
But no matter how fast, they couldn't return to Winterfell within fifteen days, right?
Maybe, detain Mother first?
Once this thought appeared, it lingered.
Get beaten up then; better than watching Mother plunge headfirst into a trap...
Robb's gaze became firm.
If his mother insisted on having her own way, he would lock Catelyn up first and wait until Father returned!
Decided!
He accepted getting beaten!
Robb paced back and forth in the room irritably; he urgently needed to find someone to discuss with.
Someone who could help him analyze the situation.
Theon.
This name popped into his mind first.
He turned abruptly, rushing out the door.
"Theon! Where is Theon Greyjoy?!"
He shouted at the guards outside.
Several guards looked at each other.
One hesitated for a moment before answering carefully.
"My Lord... Lord Theon... he rode out early this morning, saying he went hunting in the forest..."
"Alone?"
"Yes... yes, alone."
Robb's heart sank abruptly.
At this critical moment?
He rushed into Theon's tent.
The tent was empty; the bed was tidied up neatly.
However, on the table, the dagger engraved with the kraken sigil that he never left his side was missing.
The map of the Iron Islands hanging on the wall was also missing.
Theon Greyjoy actually ran away?
Fuck!
Theon running away, what it meant, he knew better than anyone.
He was a hostage of the Iron Islands!
In that case, did the Iron Islands also get involved?
Robb shouted hurriedly.
"Everyone, chase after him quickly!"
"Absolutely cannot let Theon run away!"
Meanwhile, a big event happened in King's Landing.
King Robert actually broke his leg, gored by a wild boar to the point of dying.