Looking at the dumbfounded Clay, Lord Wyman's smiling face suddenly lost all its mirth, no longer appearing as benevolent as before. He slammed the wine bottle onto the table with a loud clack and said sternly to Clay:
"Clay Manderly, you shouldn't be surprised. The fact that you are surprised means you haven't realized how important you are to the entire Manderly Family!"
"In front of Lord Stark, I had to uphold the Manderly Family's image. Do you know how relieved I was when you, after chopping up a Lannister, were protectively thrown into the dungeon by His Grace the King?"
"What are you looking at? Do you really expect a trial by combat, with The Gods giving you fairness and justice? Leaving aside what His Grace the King thinks, I'm telling you, if the Lannisters really made a fuss, His Grace wouldn't turn against them for your sake. You're not worth it yet!"
"Let me tell you another thing, don't expect to get any fairness or justice from King's Court or those Southerners. If I didn't have an army that could hold its own, you'd have already gone to meet The Gods."
The old man pulled Clay to the window, pointing at the bustling port outside, and said coldly:
"Think about yourself. Your father and your uncle are just a couple of brutes who only know how to fight. Expecting them to manage such a large city is just a dream. As for your sisters, their best destiny is to marry into a good place, allowing us to have one or two allies for White Harbor."
"Get your priorities straight. You are the best, and the only, heir to the Manderly Family. You became a Lost Valyrian warrior without my permission, and since the water has already frozen into ice, I won't say anything more. Next time, if you have similar ideas, you must tell me!"
The old man pointed at his white hair, breathing heavily as he continued, "I'm already sixty years old, and I don't know when I'll return to The Gods. This power in the White Sea is for you to use to set things up, to position White Harbor in the most advantageous place. You must take charge!"
Clay fell silent. Until now, he'd maintained a slightly detached attitude, never fully grasping the implications of being the Manderly heir.
Whether it was his angry strike against the Lannisters or his handling of the assassins, he'd acted on instinct, never realizing his actions represented the vast Manderly Family, which had ruled White Harbor for over a thousand years.
The old man wasn't worried about Clay using the family's power or gaining authority. On the contrary, he was afraid Clay would just do things on his own, without thinking of using the family's resources. As the old man had just said, Clay was the only heir, so what did it matter if he had some power?
Having understood this, Clay admitted his mistake, saying respectfully, "I understand, Grandpa. I'll consult with the family next time."
Lord Wyman snorted a couple of times, letting Clay off the hook, and then settled his large frame back into the chair. Clay could clearly hear the wood groan.
This time, the old man didn't reach for the wine bottle. Instead, his gaze drifted out the window.
"You know, even when you were still on the ship crossing the Narrow Sea back to Westeros, Maron and I were already considering your marriage arrangements."
Marriage? What the hell, how did we jump to this?
"During the time you were away from White Harbor, I received an invitation from the Frey Family. They've invited you to the Twins to attend Lord Walder Frey's, well, I don't know which one it is, child's Name Day. Clearly, they're hoping to marry you off to one of the Frey girls."
Although the information was a lot to take in, Clay nodded as calmly as he could. After truly considering himself the heir to White Harbor, he realized that this was perfectly reasonable.
For the nobility of the Seven Kingdoms, excluding the Great Houses and the Greyjoys of the Iron Islands, Clay, as the heir to a great house, was undoubtedly a very attractive marriage prospect. White Harbor held a position similar to that of the Hightower Family of Oldtown, but without the Citadel's influence.
"So, Grandfather, how did you respond?" Clay asked cautiously.
Although he knew such matters would become commonplace, the thought of being set up so soon after returning home, especially with the Frey Family, whom Clay disliked intensely, made him uneasy.
Lord Wyman glanced at him and grinned, then slowly said, "I replied to the belated Lord Frey, saying that you were still in Winterfell, and that we would give him an answer when you returned."
"Don't tell me your thoughts, listen to me first," Lord Wyman said, raising his hand to interrupt his grandson.
"My suggestion is that you write a letter to Lord Walder Frey now – I can write it for you. You should go on this trip. Lord Walder has never been known for his magnanimity in his ninety-something years."
"But your trip is just to save face for the Lord," the old man said, his words laced with a rough edge, "After all, his castle's location is too important. Keep what's between your legs in check; its time hasn't come yet."
The old man's words were crude, but Clay understood. This Lord of the Twins, who had earned the label "The Late Lord Frey," actually wielded considerable influence, despite his tarnished reputation. Clay was going, but the old man clearly had no interest in the women of the Frey Family.
The old man's words probably reflected the sentiments of most Northern nobles. Thinking about Robb Stark's later betrayal of the Frey Family and the breaking of the marriage pact, Clay figured this was part of the reason.
He just hadn't anticipated that old Frey's thirst for revenge would be so strong. Thus, the invincible Young Wolf had his heart pierced by a dagger bearing a Lannister greeting at the wedding banquet, leading to the Red Wedding, which changed the entire course of the war.
Clay had no room to argue. He could only nod in agreement. At the same time, he asked himself in his heart, who would I choose?
If it were truly up to him, he wouldn't hesitate to choose between Daenerys Targaryen and Margaery Tyrell. The reason would be something like "they're beautiful," but Clay knew that was just an excuse.
He had never seen Daenerys Targaryen, nor had he seen Margaery Tyrell. He had no idea what either of them looked like. Rather than "liking" a vague description of beauty, it would be more accurate to say he liked the titles they held.
Queen or Queen. The desire to conquer was the first driving force.
On the other hand, he was now an heir of White Harbor. Even if he had ideas, he could only keep them to himself. Most of the noble men and women in this world were creatures of self-interest, especially the great nobles. There weren't many who would pursue love and throw caution to the wind.
When the day came that Clay held an army of a hundred thousand, and his titles were so long they'd make people's tongues fall out, then he'd likely be able to freely decide his own marriage. Now? He'd have to endure it…
I'll fix any typos later, just trying to survive!
Let's talk about the female lead issue. Although, personally, I'd sing the praises of free love (first, I'm just saying), but the world of Game of Thrones, intentionally or unintentionally, reflects a fact: noble love affairs that disregard family rarely end well. Think about the cause of the War of the Usurper, and Robb Stark's fate, they both convey this idea.
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