Pinkmaiden, the seat of House Piper. The combined Northern and Riverland armies had been resting here for over a week, soaking in the summer sun on the flowery slopes. A tributary of the Red Fork flowed past the castle, opening into a deep, crystal-blue lake that reflected the stars like a mirror at night.
Splash.
My longsword hissed through the water. When I pulled it back, a fat trout, at least three pounds was impaled on the steel, its silver scales glistening in the moonlight. I grabbed it by the gills, cleaned it with a dagger, and tossed it onto the spit over our bonfire.
"You really should let the servants do that, Eddard," Robb said, swirling a glass of white wine. He looked more relaxed than I'd seen him in months. Grey Wind was sprawled out next to him, tongue lolling out, looking more like an oversized pet than a killing machine.
Since the win against Tywin, Robb had been the busiest man in the Seven Kingdoms. He was the first to wake and the last to sleep, drowning in logistics and battle plans. His reputation as the "Young Wolf" was legendary now. Even Roose Bolton, the "Old Leech" didn't mutter a word of complaint when Robb gave an order.
Thirty thousand men were currently camped around us, all of them ready to die for the kid in the bronze crown.
"Cooking for myself helps me think, Robb," I said, flipping the fish. "It keeps me grounded while everything else is moving too fast."
I wasn't as relaxed as him. Sure, we'd bloodied Tywin's nose, but the "Old Lion" had made it back to King's Landing with ten thousand veterans. That changed the math for the capital's defense. Stannis was coming with twenty-five thousand men, but attacking a fortified city against Tywin Lannister? That was a losing bet.
Meanwhile, back at the Golden Tooth, Davos Lannister was trying to play hero. He'd scraped together five thousand guys to try and retake the fortress, but I'd left two thousand Northmen under Galbart Glover to hold the "back door." Davos wasn't getting back in.
"Think I can do it?" Robb asked, rolling up his sleeves and drawing his own sword. He waded into the shallows, trying to spear a fish like I had. He splashed around for ten minutes, catching nothing but wet boots, while Grey Wind finally got bored, leaped in, and dragged out a massive trout with one bite.
Robb laughed, accepting the defeat. By the time the fish was roasted and seasoned, the aroma was enough to make my stomach growl. I handed half to the King.
"You've changed, Eddard," Robb mumbled around a mouthful of fish. "You aren't the quiet kid I remember from Winterfell."
"We've all changed, Robb. You're a King. I'm a Lannister-killer. Nobody stays the same in a war."
The atmosphere turned heavy for a moment, the only sound the crackling of the fire. Then, the sound of galloping hooves broke the silence.
"YOUR MAJESTY! LORD HAND!"
Marq Piper, the heir to Pinkmaiden, burst through the brush, looking like he'd seen a ghost. He was clutching a piece of parchment and shouting before his horse even stopped.
"Renly is dead! Stannis killed him at Storm's End!"
Robb stood up so fast he dropped his fish into the dirt. "Is my mother alright?"
Catelyn had been at Renly's camp trying to broker an alliance. If Stannis had attacked, she was right in the crosshairs.
"She's fine, Your Majesty. She sent the raven herself. She's on her way back."
Robb let out a long, shaky breath of relief. But my mind was already three steps ahead. The gears were turning.
"Robb," I said, stepping closer to him, my voice dropping. "If I told you right now to break your engagement with the Freys and marry Margaery Tyrell, would you do it?"
Robb blinked, looking confused. "Why would I do that?"
"Think about it," Marq Piper interjected, catching on. "If you marry Margaery, the Reach is ours. Highgarden's sixty thousand men join the North and the Riverlands. We'd have nearly a hundred thousand swords. You could walk into King's Landing and sit on the Iron Throne by next week."
I nodded. "Lysa Arryn is your aunt, she won't fight you. Dorne is staying neutral. Stannis is a kinslayer now; his own lords will hate him. If you take Margaery, the war ends today. You win everything."
I was thinking about my own future, too. If the war ended, I could go back to the Golden Tooth, mine the gold, and find a nice Hightower girl to marry. Oldtown was richer than Highgarden and had a better fleet. I could be a billionaire lord in a world of peace.
And Margaery? She didn't care who she married as long as he was a King. Robb was young, handsome, a winner, and unlike Joffrey, not a psychopath. It was the perfect match.
"No," Robb said, his voice hard.
"Robb, listen to-"
"No!" He shook his head firmly. "I gave my word to Walder Frey. My father taught me that a man's word is his life. I won't betray an ally just to gain a bigger army. That's what a Lannister would do."
"Can't Edmure marry her?" Robb asked.
I sighed, the frustration bubbling up. "Robb, Edmure is a great guy, but he's not a King. He doesn't have your name or your wins. The Tyrells don't want a 'Trout' they want a crown. It's you or nothing."
I knew this would happen. Robb was too much like Ned. He'd choose "honor" over victory every single time. In the original story, he'd tossed the Frey alliance away for a girl he liked. Now, he was keeping it for a promise he regretted. It was the same coin, just a different side.
"If you don't take them," I warned, "the Tyrells will go to Joffrey. Stannis is a non-starter for them. That means we'll be facing sixty thousand Reachmen and Tywin's veterans. Thirty thousand against seventy. Those aren't odds I like, Your Majesty."
Robb waved a hand, his confidence flaring back up. "Let them come. I have the most loyal lords and the best warriors in the world. I have you. I have the Blackfish. We beat Tywin once; we'll beat the roses too."
You're sixteen and you think you're a god, I thought, looking at his determined face.
"Fine," I said, giving up. "But since the board just changed, our plan to hit King's Landing is dead. If the Tyrells join the Lannisters, we'll be trapped between two armies the second we touch the city walls."
Robb's eyes sharpened. He realized I was right about the tactical shift, even if he wouldn't budge on the marriage. "You're right. Call the council. We need a new move."