The dungeons of the Twins.
It was even damper here than in the Black Cells beneath the Red Keep.
Cold droplets seeped through cracks in the stone, pooling on the floor in stagnant puddles that reeked of mildew.
The back of Edmure's head throbbed as though it would split open.
Every heartbeat sent pain pulsing through it.
It felt as though someone were striking him over and over with a warhammer.
He was locked in a cramped cell, his wrists and ankles bound in heavy iron chains.
"Awake?"
An old man's voice came from beyond the bars.
Walder Frey's wrinkled old face pressed against them like a desiccated monster's mask.
Undisguised malice and glee glittered in his small, cloudy eyes.
"My dear future son-in-law, how are you feeling?"
Old Walder's choice of address made Edmure's stomach churn.
"Lord Walder, what exactly did my sister promise you to make you so willing?"
"Whatever she can give you, I can give you as a duke!"
Old Walder shook his head.
"No, boy. You can't."
"Can you give me Lysa's body?"
"Will you personally turn against House Tully because of my feud with Hoster?"
"Can you bear an heir to the Vale?"
"Do you really think you're a duke?"
"You're one in name only. The king has yet to issue his decree."
"As long as you obey, not only will the Riverlands be mine, but I'll have a foothold in Lysa's Vale as well."
"And all it takes is dealing with that little brat Lynn. His band of Wildlings doesn't even have decent arms or armor. They're nothing to fear, especially with Balon of the Iron Islands already making preparations."
"The Iron Islands, the Vale, the Riverlands-an attack from three sides! I'd like to see anyone withstand that!"
"So, my dear son-in-law, as