House Frey's Pinnacle of Beauty

Led by a woman with a somewhat short chin, Jon arrived at a side hall.

She likely had House Frey blood in her as well, or perhaps she was Old Walder's granddaughter, or even great-granddaughter.

Although Old Walder wanted to win Jon over, he had his own methods.

What if Jon thought that one victory made him important enough to bargain with him?

He intended to "cash out" at the most advantageous moment.

Still, this side hall was quite nice. The murals on its walls depicted the scenery of the Twins.

The bluestone slabs beneath their feet were clean and level.

After all, House Frey was one of the wealthiest families in the Riverlands. Their standards were naturally exceptional.

The moment he entered the side hall, Jon saw Old Walder seated in the place of honor, surrounded by several of his sons and grandsons.

Their combined ages were probably close to a thousand years.

Quite the ceremony. Jon grew wary at the sight.

He did not know what Old Walder intended. Compared to Old York, this even older fox was clearly better at concealing his purpose.

Jon bowed his head and saluted Old Walder.

"Jon Snow, bastard son of Eddard Stark, pays his respects to Marquis Walder. May you remain in good health forever."

Seeing that Jon showed none of the arrogance of a victorious young man, and was even more respectful and courteous than when they had first met, Old Walder was quite pleased.

"Jon, I have heard all about what you did.

"When defeat was already certain, you turned the tide. Thanks to you, those useless sons and grandsons of mine did not die on the battlefield or become prisoners.

"Truly remarkable. Eddard fathered such an outstanding son just by bedding some woman.

"If I were him, I would certainly grant you the Stark name."

As Old Walder suddenly began praising him, Jon grew even more alert, unable to understand what this old fox was after.

His mind raced as he used polite pleasantries to buy himself time to think.

"You flatter me, Lord Walder. On the battlefield, the descendants of House Frey were second to none. They were fine examples to me as well."

Seeing Jon's response, Old Walder's smile became harder to conceal. He set down his wine cup, turned to the descendants beside him, and said:

"Ha! Look at him. Worthy of being Eddard's son. If it were you lot, your tails would already be sticking up into the sky!"

Old Walder's descendants wore obedient expressions, laughing as they lowered their heads even further.

"Jon, when the opportunity arises, I will recommend to Winterfell, within the limits of my ability, that you be granted the Stark name.

"Robb is one thing, of course. Your inheritance rights would still remain behind Bran and little Rickon. But with your military achievements, obtaining a fief and becoming a noble would not be difficult."

Hearing Old Walder say this, Jon hurriedly bowed again.

"Th-thank you, Lord Marquis. But this, this is..."

Jon put on an act of being so excited that he could barely speak coherently.

After all, there was not a bastard in all Seven Kingdoms who did not wish to cast off their bastard name!

Though he still did not know what Old Walder was planning, he had to react normally.

Seeing him like this, Old Walder burst into laughter.

"You boy, this old marquis never makes a losing deal. If I help you, how do you intend to repay me?"

"I am willing to fight your enemies for you! Even if I must climb a mountain bristling with blades or search for treasure in a sea of flames, I will not hesitate!" Jon declared, thumping his chest.

"Ha ha ha ha—"

Old Walder laughed again at Jon's promise.

"There is no need to go to such trouble." His expression turned serious. "Do you remember when I said you could choose one of the girls at the Twins and marry into House Frey?

"That is my condition."

After saying this, Old Walder stared at Jon with blazing eyes.

Well, that map of Yan is certainly long.

As soon as Old Walder finished speaking, he clapped his hands. Several girls, ranging in age from fifteen to twenty-five, stepped out.

They varied in height, build, and size.

They filed into the room and came to stand beside Jon.

"Some are my daughters, some are my granddaughters. Choose one.

"And I will give you and your bride Silver Stags equal to her weight."

Silver Stags were the silver coins of Westeros. Since they were stamped with the image of a stag, they were called Silver Stags.

Uh...

Jon turned to look at the girls. To be honest, most of them were not much to look at.

The words bring out another batch nearly reached his lips.

It was not that they were ugly. House Frey's genes for "short chins" and "watery" eyes were simply too powerful.

Some people who looked down on House Frey believed they resembled weasels.

Jon did not dare refuse immediately. He could only inspect the girls while considering how to muddle through this situation.

House Frey certainly had pretty girls. If he looked carefully, he could surely find one pleasing to the eye.

But before long, Robb might very well fail to keep his pants on, break his marriage pact, and anger Old Walder.

That would leave Jon caught in the middle.

And it was not merely a matter of being caught in the middle. After the Battle of the Blackwater, Stannis would flee in defeat from King's Landing, the North's prospects would be doomed, and Old Walder would begin plotting the Red Wedding.

Whether Jon would even remain alive by then was another matter entirely.

Besides, Jon had greater ambitions. He was unwilling to sell off his "founder shares" at this point.

As Jon thought, he examined the girls with his eyes while maintaining the most polite distance possible.

Though Old Walder drank by himself, his brown eyes never left Jon for a moment.

Then Jon actually spotted a rather pretty girl.

Her complexion was fair, her chin small and delicate, and her chestnut curls flowed down to her waist. She carried an air of refinement as well.

She seemed to sense Jon's gaze. Her large brown eyes lifted, only to dart away at once.

Set against Old Walder's other daughters, she appeared all the more lovely.

Old Walder also noticed the interest Jon showed in this girl.

In fact, this was part of his test for Jon.

Among these girls, two were especially fat, clearly weighing at least one hundred seventy or one hundred eighty pounds.

This delicate-looking girl likely did not even weigh half as much as they did.

If Jon chose those "heavy tanks," it would at least prove that he was a practical man.

First, fat women were considered fertile. And Old Walder had also offered to give Jon Silver Stags equal to the combined weight of him and his bride.

Yet Jon seemed willing to give up both advantages just to choose a pretty girl.

In the end, he is still a young man with an eye for women.

Old Walder thought this as a potbellied man beside him spoke.

"Her name is Roslin. She is the only daughter my father had with Lady Rosby."

Recalling the helpless and slightly shy manner he had displayed when choosing technicians for the first time, Jon spoke up.

"M-Marquis, her... her name is Roslin?"

Seeing that Jon had chosen her, Roslin lowered her head even further.

"Ha ha ha, boy, you have your eye on her? She is the prettiest of all my daughters.

"But you had better think it through. If Robb takes a liking to her later, you will have to give her up."

You old bastard, you're really not honest at all. You're still trying to drive a wedge between my brother and me?

Jon seemed to realize Old Walder's entire plan.

Marrying his daughter to Jon was only one part of it.

Both Jon and Robb had proven themselves to possess extraordinary military talent.

If Robb, that looks-obsessed fellow, were allowed to choose, he would most likely pick Roslin.

Jon would definitely be unhappy when that happened.

That would create a rift between the brothers.

Then Old Walder could take advantage of the situation to compensate Jon and win him over, gaining a loyal enforcer.

What an old fox. This was a chain of schemes!

But in that flash of insight, Jon thought of how to refuse.

Slap! Slap!

Jon hurriedly stepped back two paces and slapped himself hard across the face twice.

Two handprints immediately appeared on his pale cheeks.

His actions startled Roslin and the other girls into crying out. Even Old Walder was somewhat at a loss.

Jon turned and gave Old Walder a deep bow.

"Lord Marquis, I understand your painstaking intentions. You must be testing whether my resolve to save my father is firm.

"My father has been framed, yet I am here choosing a bride for myself.

"I almost... I almost became no better than a beast."

Old Walder: Huh? Was that what I was thinking?

Jon turned to Roslin and said:

"Lady Roslin, I do indeed like you. But you are the Marquis's legitimate daughter, while I am only a bastard.

"A few military achievements cannot bridge the gap between us."

Jon's sincere expression moved Roslin somewhat.

"Lord Marquis, if one day I truly save my father, cast off my bastard status, and join the ranks of the nobility, I will surely come for Lady Roslin in a splendid carriage."

Old Walder's smile stiffened slightly. He truly could not understand how things had gone so off course.

It had almost worked.

The expressions of his sons and grandsons behind him also changed subtly.

Jon continued asking:

"Lord Marquis, I assume King's Landing still does not know that the Twins and the North have formed an alliance. Do you have any news of my father?"

When Old Walder heard Jon ask about Eddard, he knew that today's arrangement had completely fallen through.

After all, the man's father had just died. Forcing him to marry right afterward would look far too ugly.

It was the same Frey who had introduced Roslin to Jon who spoke.

"Father, I forgot to tell you. Lord Eddard was executed by the false king Joffrey on charges of treason."

"What!" Old Walder feigned shock, though he glanced at Jon from the corner of his eye. "You bastard! Why are you only telling me now?"

"Please punish me, Father."

The potbellied man hurriedly knelt before Old Walder.

Father and son performed their little act together.

"Ah—"

Jon suddenly let out a beastlike roar, startling the girls beside him into retreating several steps.

Jon strode out of the side hall, then cursed at the sky.

"Joffrey! I will cut off your head! I will skin you and make a carpet from your hide! I will eat your flesh!

"Tywin! Old thief! Treacherous thief! Vile thief!

"Trai—tor—"

Jon's voice exploded at the doorway like thunder. The Waders, as though infected by his grief and fury, all fell silent and did not dare speak.