Lord Brynden withdrew his gaze and said: "As Lord Frey requested, you must apologize to him in person for offending House Frey, King Robb."
Robb wiped the rain from his face and said: "I will."
Pitter-patter, the King's young squire, Loram Westerling, came trotting over and said: "King Robb, Black Walder has arrived. He requests an audience with you."
Robb's gaze was deep. After a pause, he said: "Invite him to my tent."
The young squire was about to leave but was called back by Lord Brynden, and then they left together.
As they walked, Lord Brynden looked at Loram, who was struggling to walk through the muddy ground, and said: "Has Lady Sybelle settled in?"
Loram looked up, his voice carrying the childishness of a boy: "Yes, Lord Duke, my mother's tent is pitched next to the King's Camp. His Majesty takes great care of her, and I am very grateful."
Lord Brynden reached out his large hand and ruffled the young squire's head, saying: "She worked very hard to keep up with the march. Take good care of Lady Sybelle."
Facing the kind Lord Brynden, Loram couldn't help but complain: "My brother and I both hoped Mother would stay and rest at Seaguard, but she insisted on coming along. She's becoming more and more..."
As he spoke, the young squire suddenly paused, then said in annoyance: "I'm sorry, Lord, I shouldn't complain about my mother..."
Lord Brynden patted Loram and said: "It's alright. Most children secretly complain about their fathers or mothers. I used to as well."
"Hehe." Little Loram shyly scratched his head.
In the evening after the rain, the setting sun's afterglow illuminated the land.
Lord Brynden gazed at the Frey army setting up tents in the distance, frowning as he said: "Is this Lord Walder's welcoming ceremony?"
Black Walder grinned: "Lord Brynden, my great-grandfather is showing concern for the King. After all... we'll soon be family. Frey must ensure the King's safety."
Lord Brynden's expression stiffened for a moment, then he sighed: "Alright. If there are too many troops in The Twins, it might cause misunderstanding among the Northern lords."
Black Walder chuckled: "That depends on how many people His Majesty plans to bring to the wedding. Frey's primary concern... is still His Majesty's safety."
He leaned in closer, staring into Brynden's eyes, and added: "Lord Brynden, is the guest list for the wedding ready? Before we set off, my great-grandfather was still agonizing over how many yaks needed to be roasted."
"Lord Walder is very generous."
Lord Brynden began to walk towards the Northern army's camp: "Time is short. Most of the Riverlands vassals cannot make it. It's mainly King Robb's Northern vassals. After you've had your audience with the King, I will let you have the list."
King's Camp.
Black Walder stroked his chest, revealing a mouthful of crooked, yellow teeth: "Due to the continuous heavy rain, my great-grandfather was very worried that His Majesty would not be able to arrive by the agreed wedding date. He is very relieved to see that you have not broken the schedule, Your Majesty."
King Robb's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. He pointed to an empty chair and said: "Please sit, Black Walder."
Black Walder did not move. He continued: "My great-grandfather, who is over ninety, always feels that his days are numbered. He fears he will not live to see the day of victory in this war. If he can see his beloved daughter settled before the new and old gods call him, it would bring peace to his heart and reassure him that his daughter has a good husband who loves and protects her."
King Robb's brow furrowed distinctly this time: "Since I have promised, I will protect Lady Roslin for her entire life."
Upon hearing this, Black Walder's gaze scanned Robb in a very offensive manner and said: "I imagine Lord Brynden has already described Lady Roslin's beauty to you. She is not only gentle by nature but also skilled in various musical instruments, and most importantly..."
His expression became lewd: "She is a seventeen-year-old virgin, my great-grandfather's most cherished treasure in Frey."
King Robb clenched his fist, his voice tinged with coldness: "I believe this is all the arrangement of the new and old gods. I thank Lady Roslin Frey for her willingness to become my wife."
Black Walder first scoffed, then took a step forward, looking directly at Robb, and said grimly: "You won't suddenly break the betrothal again, will you?"
Lord Brynden immediately stood up and rebuked: "Black Walder!"
Black Walder stared at Robb, ignoring Lord Brynden's voice.
Robb's chest slowly rose and fell. He gestured to Lord Brynden to calm down and said: "My Uncle has renegotiated the marriage with Lord Frey on my behalf, and I am here in person. I will not break my betrothal to Lady Roslin. However..."
His deep blue eyes gazed intently: "Black Walder, if Lord Frey sent you to humiliate me, I am willing to listen, but once you are finished, I will take it as Lord Frey refusing my proposal for Lady Roslin, and I will immediately leave with my army."
Black Walder was stunned. Robb's attitude was completely beyond his and his great-grandfather's expectations. How should his probing continue?
He glanced at the stern-faced Lord Brynden, Black Walder's eyes shifted slightly. He forced a ingratiating smile and said: "Your Majesty, Lord Frey welcomes you very much. Just now... it was my own selfishness at work. Please forgive my offense."
With that, his short, stout figure knelt directly to show his sincere apology.
"Please rise."
Robb's expression only then improved: "Black Walder, causing a rift was not my intention. House Frey has always served me loyally and bravely. I am very pleased to regain your assistance."
"Yes, Lord Frey is also very pleased. He's been so happy lately he can't sleep."
Black Walder grinned: "I won't disturb your rest any longer. Please give me the list of those attending the wedding tomorrow so that The Twins can meticulously arrange the wedding feast."
"I appreciate your trouble."
Robb called his captain of the guard and instructed: "Ser Reynald, please give the guest list for the wedding feast to Black Walder."
Reynald Westerling looked at Black Walder expressionlessly and handed over the parchment.
After reading the names and numbers, Black Walder couldn't help but look up at King Robb in surprise.
His gaze shifted slightly: "Your Majesty, I see there are only ninety-odd people. You can bring more guests; The Twins' hall is large enough."
"I will bring most of my vassals. That is sufficient. Plus some squires, the number will be at most one hundred."
Robb shook his head slightly, his expression grave: "It is still wartime, and we have not yet achieved final victory. I do not want to see my army become too lax because of my wedding."
Black Walder tucked the parchment into his bosom and said: "Frey will do its best to arrange your wedding."
Robb stood up, nodded to his Uncle, and said: "Black Walder, I have brought some gifts for Lord Frey and Lady Roslin. Please trouble yourself to deliver them."
When Black Walder left the King's Camp, he took with him seven strong steeds as gifts, and each horse carried two large chests of jewels.
Late night.
A dark figure secretly slipped out of the Northern army's camp, but had not gone far before being surrounded by Lord Brynden himself, leading a dozen guards.
Lord Brynden, gripping the hilt of the sword at his waist, stepped forward and said: "Where are you going?"
He directly pulled back the hood of the person in front of him and said in a deep voice: "Lady Sybelle."
Lady Sybelle, who was trying to escape, was stopped by the Tully guards. Trembling, she said: "Lo... Lord Brynden, I just couldn't sleep. I just came out for a walk."
She was trembling so much from fear that she could barely stand. Lord Brynden's voice turned cold: "Lady Sybelle, I do not wish to see the guards search you."
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