"This is impossible!"
Hearing Roose Bolton's demand, a trace of confusion flashed in Brienne's blue eyes, immediately replaced by surging anger.
She stood up with a whoosh, the movement so violent it knocked over the chair behind her, creating a dull thud on the floor.
"No! I will never stay!"
Brienne stared dead at Roose, her voice hoarse with agitation as she questioned forcefully, "I am not a bargaining chip in your transaction, nor am I goods to be discarded at will!"
"I follow Lady Catelyn Tully's orders to bring the Kingslayer safely back to King's Landing in exchange for the two Stark girls. Do you intend to betray your liege lord's decision and leave her daughters to die, Lord Roose Bolton!"
"Watch your words, my lady."
Facing her accusation, Roose Bolton's reaction was surprisingly bland.
He looked straight at her calmly. The expression in his eyes was nothing like the solemnity he showed Corleone just now. Instead, it was as if she were merely a buzzing fly.
Clearly, Roose didn't take this heir to Tarth seriously.
"Leaving aside Lady Catelyn Tully's act of privately releasing a prisoner, which is almost tantamount to treason, the promise you believe you are keeping has no honor to speak of."
Roose stated calmly in his characteristic cold tone, "Everything I do now is precisely to ensure the safety of the two Stark girls."
"Don't you value your honor most, Brienne of Tarth? Very well, now is the time for you to show your high character."
"As long as you agree to stay in Harrenhal as a hostage, I will release Ser Jaime back to King's Landing to exchange for Lady Catelyn's two daughters."
"How about it?"
The final rhetorical question left Brienne speechless.
She instinctively felt there must be a conspiracy, but the other party cleverly used the honor she adhered to as a threat.
If she agreed, she might fall into a trap. But if she refused, she would be accused of "unwillingness to keep honor and oaths."
Caught between a rock and a hard place.
"In the weighing and clashing of interests, someone always needs to be the price measured."
Seeing Brienne fall silent, Roose raised an eyebrow and poured oil on the fire: "Your anger is like the winter sun in the North—seemingly intense, but unable to melt even a sliver of ice."
"To tell you the truth, Lady Tarth, no matter how angry you are or unwilling to accept reality, you cannot change the decision reached between Lord Corleone and me."
Hearing this, Brienne's body shook violently, as if she suddenly understood something.
She turned her gaze to the side, only to see Corleone hidden in the shadows remaining silent from beginning to end, seemingly having no intention of speaking, clearly acquiescing to Roose's behavior.
So that's it!
Brienne burned with anger.
This despicable, cunning, honorless farmer is conducting a naked exchange of interests with Roose Bolton!
And she is the only pawn in this business deal to be discarded at will, ensuring that Jaime Lannister, the truly valuable prisoner, can be safely returned!
"I knew it!"
Thinking she had figured out this key point, she gritted her teeth angrily and accused, "Open your eyes and look, Kingslayer! This is the 'friend' you trust!"
"Using my freedom to exchange for your safety. This is the 'business' he planned long ago!"
However, before she could say more, Roose waved his hand gently. Walton behind him immediately stepped forward and, with two guards, pinned down Brienne's broad arms.
"No..."
Seeing this, Jaime beside her almost jumped up.
His right hand instinctively pressed toward his waist, but unfortunately, there was no sword there, nor a hand to grip it.
He froze for a moment, his breathing becoming heavy. Staring viciously at Walton and the others, he felt a nameless fire rising in his heart.
Admittedly, Brienne might be frustratingly stubborn, and they had many disputes along the way, but her loyalty and noble character commanded his immense admiration.
Sometimes, Jaime even felt she was just like his younger self!
But now, use her freedom to exchange for his?
No!
Jaime would never accept it. Back when he swung his sword at the Mad King Aerys, he had already personally killed that naive, upright boy along with the king.
Now, how could he watch a familiar scene happen before him again!
But just as Jaime made up his mind not to let them take Brienne away even if he had to risk his life, his peripheral vision caught Corleone in the shadows.
He was still hidden in the darkness, his gaze calm as a deep ancient pool, without panic or guilt, only all-seeing calmness.
In a trance, Jaime saw Corleone's hand under the table press down extremely slightly.
This subtle movement was so fast it almost seemed like an illusion.
In his mind, Corleone's words echoed instantly: "Trust me, my friend."
Taking a deep breath, a huge sense of powerlessness seized Jaime.
He loathed this feeling of entrusting his fate to others, but he knew better that right now, impulsiveness would only collapse the situation Corleone had meticulously built.
"I've bet everything on you, Corleone."
Jaime's Adam's apple bobbed. He took a deep look at Corleone, thinking to himself: Don't let me down.
"Hoo~~~"
After intense internal struggle, Jaime finally sat down slowly and squeezed out a difficult smile for Brienne.
"Endure, Brienne."
"Trust me."
These words fell on Brienne's ears like a final verdict.
It was no longer the encouragement between companions along the journey, but the hypocritical comfort of a victor after discarding a pawn.
Jaime gazed at her, feeling the confident light in the eyes of this passionate woman gradually extinguish, replaced by utter disappointment.
That look seemed to say: "I misjudged you, Kingslayer."
This look almost broke Jaime's heart. However, Brienne didn't notice his internal struggle. She just turned her head to look at Corleone in the shadows, leaving a final sentence:
"You will go to the Seven Hells, Vito Corleone."
"The gods will not forgive such behavior. You will spend the rest of your life in regret and shame."
With that, she offered no more futile resistance.
She straightened her back, broader than many men's, and like a true knight, walked with heavy steps out of the reception room under the escort of several Northern soldiers.
The door closed gradually with a heavy thud, seeming to shut off the last shred of trust in her heart for her "partners."