13/03/2026 06:33

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I am no longer even a finger, Ifear. Lord Walder would soon turn two-and-ninety. No words can set it right, I know,yet I come before you to ask forgiveness, that the Freys of the Crossing andthe Starks of Winterfell may once again be friends. The only sound in the market square wasthe splash of falling water and the buzzing of flies.

To hurther. That was what he'd done, when the Starks had died before him, LordRickard cooking in his armor while his son Brandon strangled himself trying tosave him. Whitetree was on the maps he'd drawn, on their way north. Ser Gregor hacked at it, but the thrust had only been a feint.