CHAPTER 39 | WINE WILL FLOW RED

A large plate of bread and cheese floated amongst the great hall of House Frey. Robb took the plate from a servant, to which he passed to Freya. The queen raised her brow at such an odd custom, but supposed this lot would do the same at Iron Islander customs. She plucked a piece of bread and sniffed it, checking its contents. Robb was staring at her with a confused expression, and when their eyes met, she shrugged and ate the bread.

"My honored guests," Lord Walder spoke up, "be welcome within my walls and at my table."

A shiver ran down Freya's spine at the sight of Walder Frey. What a decrepit and ugly old man. The girl beside him – who she supposed was his wife – looked terrified. They stood in a cold room, surrounded by their army and family, with Walder Frey and his sons in the front. The tension in the room could be cut with a blade. Freya felt her own hang heavy in it's sheath.

Walder took a piece of bread from his servant. "I extend to you my hospitality and protection in the light of the Seven."

"We thank you for your hospitality, my Lord." Robb said loudly, glancing at his wife. "I have come to make my apologies, my Lord, and to beg your forgiveness."

"Don't beg my forgiveness, Your Grace. It wasn't me you spurned. It was my girls." The elder lord raised his arms, and his daughters came walking out for them to see. All had their heads down. "One of them was supposed to be Queen. Now, none of them are."

Freya raised her hand, attempting to make light of the situation. "If I may interject, Lord Walder," she added, "Robb's proposal to accept a second wife is still –"

"A Queen, Your Grace." Walder interrupted with a frown. "Not a secondary Queen."

"Alright," Freya muttered under her breath.

Walder nodded his head towards the girls standing in front of him. "My daughter, Walda; my daughter, Derwa; my daughter, Waldra." He chewed on an extra substance in his mouth before continuing, "My eldest granddaughters, Ginia and Neila; Serra and Sarra – granddaughters, twins. You could have had either. Could have had both for all I care." He paused, giving Freya a moment to shake her head. "My granddaughter, Marianne; my granddaughter, Freya – oh, would you look at that. You want two Freyas, Your Grace?" Walder laughed lightly. "And my granddaughter ... Wertha? Waldra? Waldina?"

The girl in question lifted her head. "I'm Mary."

"Fine," Walder huffed. "And here's my youngest daughter, Shirei, though she hasn't bled yet. Clearly, you don't have the patience for all that."

Freya's eyes went wide. Her hands formed into fists, and she could feel her nails digging into her palms. She was slowly losing her patience.

"My Ladies," Robb addressed as he looked around the room, "All men should keep their word, Kings most of all. I was pledged to marry one of you and I broke that vow. The fault is not with you. Any man would be lucky to have any one of you." His eyes flickered to Freya once again, who had turned to look at the Blackfish over her shoulder. He stared back ahead. "I did what I did not to slight you, but because I married another for senseless revenge, and eventually, for love. I know these words cannot set right the wrong I have done to you and your house. I beg your forgiveness and pledge to do all I can to make amends so the Freys of the Crossing and the Starks of Winterfell may once again be friends."

Freya swallowed down hard.

Walder slowly lifted his hands and began to clap. The girls moved away and out of vision. "Very good," he applauded, before resting his eyes on Freya. "I see your stare. Come closer, Freya Greyjoy-Stark. Let me have a look at you."

Freya glanced to Robb for a moment. She slowly stepped forward, watching Lord Walder's eyes take her in. She clasped her hands in front of her, almost hiding the details on her leather chest plate and fur cloak. She bowed her head.

"It's been a long time since I've seen a Greyjoy in the flesh. Surprised Balon isn't dead yet, but heard your last brother was." Walder laughed, leaving Freya to furrow her brow at the news. "Long time ago, I actually tried to negotiate with your father to have you marry one of my sons once you were legitimized and had bled."

Robb blinked at the statement. Catelyn licked her lips, feeling agitated.

"What a shame. You could've been Freya Frey." He chuckled. Again. Freya wanted to roll her eyes. "So – love. That's what the Starks of Winterfell call it, eh? Very honorable."

Freya tried her hardest to give him a false smile. "It wasn't something we initially planned on, my Lord. I can assure you of that."

"You haven't exactly gotten much prettier, Freya Greyjoy. Considering your father, you will always lack an attractive female stature." He sighed, causing Robb's mouth to drop. "But you're prettier than this lot, that's for sure. Very shapely as well. Oh, you try to hide her under that armor. If you wanted to hide her, you shouldn't have brought her here in the first place. I can always see what's going on beneath a woman's attire. Been at this a long time. I bet when you take a dress off, everything stays right where it is."

Freya looked to the side, raising her brow. "Oh, I don't doubt that for a second, Lord Walder. Both you and I know that you've certainly been at this for a long time."

Walder sat back in his chair, studying Freya for a moment long before laughing at her comment. He nodded his head in agreement. "Your King says he betrayed me for love. I say he betrayed me for a pair of firm tits and crooked teeth, and I can respect that. When I was your age, I'd have broken fifty oaths to get into a Greyjoy cunt without a second thought."

Freya bit the inside of her cheek. She was finding it particularly hard to swallow her own words. Her hands went into fists again, and she could swear her face was becoming red with anger. Stay calm, she reminded herself. But thinking those words was simple compared to actually doing it.

"Well, I've enough room in the hall for you lot." Lord Walder shrugged. "We'll set up tents outside with food and ale for the rest of your men."

Freya took this as her moment to stand beside her husband again. Robb's eyes were narrowed as he quipped, "Thank you, my Lord."

Walder stood, an odd smile gracing his features. He clapped his hands. "Well, let's get ready. The wine will flow red, and the music will play loud, and we'll put this mess behind us."

His smile was odd to Freya. It wasn't of joy, but more full of trickery and suspicion. Truthfully, Freya should've listened to her intuition, because she would remember that grin Walder Frey gave her for the rest of her life.