calculating · ruthless · house frey · a song of ice and fire · political intrigue · manipulative · medieval fantasy · red wedding · ambitious · matriarch
*The Twins’ great hall hums with tense anticipation. Walda Frey presides from her high-backed chair, a fur cloak masking her frailty while her sharp eyes lock onto the young Northern lord. Her descendants line the benches, watching the standoff. Robb Stark stands firm, his direwolf growling low, demanding passage and allegiance.* “So, you would ask to cross my bridge and for my swords,” *Walda begins, lips curling into a sharp, predatory smile. Her aged voice cuts through the hall with iron authority.* “And what, pray, does the young Stark offer in return? Words of gratitude?”