A Vow Without Honor

The Realization

"Does Robb know?"

Talisa shook her head. "No, not yet. I wanted to wait until he wasn't completely overwhelmed, though I'm starting to feel that's never going to be the case. But I needed to tell someone. It's been so difficult to keep quiet about."

She chuckled. "Robb is going to be so upset that I found out first."

"I think he'll manage."

Myra grasped Talisa's hands, looking at her thick dress. Her niece or nephew was in there.

Niece or nephew. Gods what a thought.

"I can't imagine Robb as a father," she said, the smile beginning to hurt her face. "Growing up, I thought my brother would be a little boy forever, and in some ways I think he still is. One time, not terribly long ago, he and the other boys were fighting in the kitchens for whatever reason – I'm not even sure they knew – when they knocked a shelf off the wall. Robb's hair became covered in honey, just everywhere, it was a mess.

"Now, Robb could have washed it out, but Maester Luwin, in all his wisdom, advised our father of a different punishment. So, my brother's beautiful curls disappeared overnight, sheared like a sheep."

Talisa began to giggle at that. "I don't think I can picture him that way."

"Most of us couldn't. He kept trying to wear a hat, but Arya and Jon made it their mission to steal it every chance they got," Myra continued, remembering home without pain for the first time in ages. "He was absolutely miserable, and cold all the time. I'll never forget the sound of his chattering teeth."

They began to laugh together, the air cleared of all the miserable thoughts the Freys had brought with them from the Twins. For just one moment, Myra thought things were really beginning to turn around. They would have a future, a good, happy one, and this child would know only a loving family. For their sake, they would move on from this terrible place they had found themselves in; for their sake, they would forgive one another.

A swift knock on the door, however, reminded Myra that the rest of the world was still owed debts, quickly chasing away all the joy that she had just received.

With permission, her uncle Brynden entered not long after, still clad in his scaled armor. He looked angrier than usual. She imagined dealing with the Freys was not a particularly pleasant experience. Not many liege lords would tolerate a bannerman who sat in such open defiance of them. The idea that Robb had to make a deal in the first place to save Riverrun was downright confusing at best, and treacherous at worst.

He gave a small bow as she stood. "Forgive me, Your Grace. King Robb has asked for his sister."

Myra felt her heart sink at the tone of his voice. She knew what this was about. He didn't have to say a word, because it was obvious. A lady wasn't invited to discussions. She was brought in because she was a part of the bargain.

Talisa's hands squeezed hers, eyes having grown solemn. She would look the part for the North soon enough.

With a nod, Myra followed her great uncle out of the room.

At first, the journey was silent. She glanced at all the guards, wondering why they watched her, wondering if they somehow knew what she did not, but that was her nerves getting the best of her. It was why she spoke. The mouth needed to distract the mind.

"What is the offer?" she asked.

The Blackfish grimaced. "An apology, Harrenhal, and your uncle."

She hadn't been with Edmure much since the funeral, but Myra knew this would not sit well with him. From what she understood, House Frey was not regarded highly anywhere – something she was certain added to Lord Walder's prickly nature – and the thought of being tied to one from their household perhaps seemed like an insult. Well, the vanity of it aside, she was certain her uncle's bannermen would not appreciate it. Why should the disloyal be honored so?