Never Turn Your Back on Bolton

"You mean he opposed his brother being crowned king?"

Old Walder had been lounging lazily beside the warm hearth, listening to Rhaegar Frey's account. At once, he sat upright.

The hand swirling his wine sped up involuntarily, his thoughts spinning as quickly as the clear wine in his cup. He did not even notice that it was nearly spilling over.

"Yes, Father. As we neared Riverrun, Jon kept urging the sailors to hurry. When we disembarked, he did not even exchange greetings before rushing straight into the hall. It was as though he knew beforehand that those Northmen intended to crown Robb."

"He knew beforehand?" Old Walder set down his wine and smiled. "How could that be? He is no prophet. He probably just wanted to learn more about Eddard."

Old Walder offered his own guess, and Rhaegar Frey put on a look of sudden realization, finding that explanation more reasonable.

Yet there was still something Old Walder did not quite understand.

In his two encounters with Jon, Jon had given him the feeling of being as slippery as an eel.

Never mind how he had humbly demeaned himself the first time, or how he had sworn grandly to Old Walder the second time. Old Walder could sense that Jon did not want to be too deeply tied to him.

In his view, if Jon wanted to dissuade Robb, he should have used some other method. At the very least, he should not have been so intense about it.

That was not very Jon-like.

But no matter what Jon truly intended, Old Walder felt that his investment in Jon had been somewhat of a loss.

Jon had openly opposed Robb being crowned king. Though it would not affect his future prospects of becoming a noble and receiving lands, he would likely be granted some "frontier territory," far from the center of power.

But it did not matter.

Robb becoming king made up for that.

He had originally only wanted to take the chance to forge a marriage alliance with House Stark.

He had not expected to win a crown for House Frey.

In the future, House Frey's standing would not be lower than House Tully's.

It was worth it!

Let us see who would dare call House Frey upstarts again.

Thinking of this, Old Walder's mood relaxed considerably, and his cloudy old eyes began creeping over the serving girls beside him.

Old Walder's little movements caught Rhaegar Frey's attention.

Knowing that his father was in an exceptionally pleased and relaxed mood, he brought up another matter.

"Father, when Jon and I left the Twins that day, Roslin seemed to have some... feelings for him."

"Roslin is my prettiest daughter. She belongs to Robb."

Old Walder's words fell like a judge's gavel, deciding his daughter's fate.

"I raised her to recoup my costs. What else would I keep her for?

"As for whatever feelings she has for Jon, I do not know, and I do not care."

"Yes... Father." Rhaegar Frey lowered his head.

Elsewhere, in Roslin's room.

"Lady Roslin, this is my raven. I am heading to the Moon Mountains to recruit clan warriors for Robb.

"Perhaps we will meet again at the victory feast once the war is over.

"Our parting last time was rather abrupt. Please forgive me.

"Jon Snow of Winterfell."

A black raven over a foot tall waited outside Roslin's window.

From time to time, it tucked its head beneath a wing to scratch an itch.

Its black feathers even reflected an iridescent black beneath the sunlight.

It was clear that Jon had raised it well.

As Old Walder's daughter, she naturally knew the purpose of ravens.

But she had never seen one as clever as this. It had actually found her room!

After thinking for a moment, she hurriedly and secretly brought the raven some nuts and dried meat.

Naturally, she did all this in secret.

She understood Old Walder. He would never permit his children to do anything against his will.

Roslin soon fed the raven its fill and thought that she ought to write something back to Jon as well.

Yet as she stared at the letter paper spread before her, she could not think of how to reply, even when the ink seeping from the tip of her quill fell and spread into a blot.

Roslin's memories seemed to return to the day Jon had softly sung that song for her.

Her face reddened again.

She looked toward the raven and found that it seemed to be staring fixedly at her letter paper.

While Roslin was distracted, the raven used its pitch-black beak, as long as an adult's finger, to peck half a hazelnut from her sleeve.

"Whew... I thought you could read."

Roslin thought to herself. After pondering for a while, she finally made up her mind.

A line of delicate handwriting appeared on the page—

May your blade forever reflect the bright moon rather than blood,

I, too, shall pray for you before the gods,

If the bells of celebration ring,

Please save the first dance for the girl with lilies of the valley at her breast.

Roslin Frey of the Twins.

The meaning of lilies of the valley—happiness returned.

After finishing, Roslin could not help but blush furiously.

She crossed out the line, "If the bells of celebration ring, please save the first dance for the girl with lilies of the valley at her breast," copied the remaining lines onto a fresh sheet, and carefully placed it inside a bronze message tube.

On horseback, Jon slowly opened his eyes. Even before the raven delivered the letter, he already knew what it contained.

So he casually found a place to destroy it and let the raven return on its own.

At this stage, Jon merely hoped to use Roslin to gather intelligence from the Twins.

If Old Walder still decided to carry out the Red Wedding, he would be able to prepare in advance.

But honestly, Roslin was a good girl.

She would make a fine wife, too.

"If I can gain lands in the future..."

Jon shook his head, temporarily driving such thoughts from his mind.

He gathered himself. The northern army's camp was just ahead.

If he intended to go to the Moon Mountains, Howland Reed would be a useful helper.

Jon planned to see whether he could bring him along.

But the moment he arrived at camp, Jon received bad news from Old York—

Howland Reed had been sent to the Neck to guard North's gateway.

"My lord, this was all Roose Bolton's doing.

"Ser Howland Reed followed Lord Eddard as early as Robert's Rebellion, and he holds great prestige.

"Everyone can see that he supports you. At the very least, he is on your side. Roose Bolton did not want his authority to face a greater threat, so he sent him to garrison the Neck."

"When did Ser Howland Reed leave?"

"Not long after you did," Old York said indignantly.

After learning the reason, Jon's face darkened.

If he went to attack King's Landing in the future, he absolutely could not leave his back to that man!

Even if he had to launch a mutiny, he would only feel at ease after bringing Roose Bolton under control and placing him under house arrest.

Otherwise, that man was practically a ticking bomb.

One had to know that when Tywin withdrew from the Red Fork to reinforce King's Landing, he happened to pass Harrenhal. Yet Roose Bolton pretended not to see him and did not move a muscle, like a fucking corpse.

Jon did not know when Roose Bolton had begun wanting to play both sides, but he would never let down his guard merely because Roose Bolton had shown no signs of betrayal before the Battle of the Blackwater.

After returning to camp, Jon met with the other northern lords again.

It seemed they still did not know that Jon had opposed Robb being crowned king at Riverrun.

Meiqi Saiwen and Harrion in particular remained as warm toward Jon as ever.

"What use is there in recruiting those Wildlings? They have no loyalty to speak of, and their fighting skills are nothing special either. Jon, I advise you not to waste your effort."

Upon learning that Jon intended to go somewhere like the Moon Mountains, Harrion could not understand it.

After all, the Wildlings in the Moon Mountains followed different faiths and might not even speak the same language.

Forcing them together would be a success if they did not start fighting one another.

"Jon, go if you wish. I do not think this war will begin anytime soon, but be careful," Meiqi Saiwen said. Being older, he could tell Jon was determined to go, so he cautioned him like an elder.

Still, he felt in his heart that it would not work.

Though he remembered how Jon had previously brought together the rabble from Winterfell and the various lords' forces.

But the Wildlings of the Moon Mountains? Forgive him for saying so, but that would be far more difficult.

"Thank you for your concern, Lord Severn. Please continue managing the logistics for me."

After entrusting the logistics and other affairs to Meiqi Saiwen, Jon prepared to depart for the Moon Mountains.

The more strength he amassed now, the more prepared he would be not only for the attack on King's Landing, but also to deter Roose Bolton.

The Battle of the Blackwater would determine the overall course of the War of the Five Kings. Jon would not miss a single chance to build up his strength.