“One side, people! Wedding planner coming through! Where is the father of the bride-to-be, hmm?”

“I’m up ‘ere on my bloody throne, you sod. Where else would I be?”

“Ah, Lord Frey! I’ve come to report on the wedding preparations.”

“Get on with it, then.”

“Ravens bring word the flowers are on their way, foodstuffs are being unpacked for the feast, and your daughter’s gown has arrived.”

“Is that all?”

“Actually… it pains me to report that we have something of a crisis on our hands.”

“Nine hells! What is it this time?”

“It’s the guest list, my lord. I received RSVPs from the Stark party but they left the ‘plus one’ option unchecked.”


“And… you told me to inform you of any complications with young Miss Westerling’s attendance?”


“Jeyne Westerling? Robb Stark’s… ah… ‘guest’?”

“Jeyne, you said? Is that the little tart’s name?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“I thought our little King of the North was bedding some strumpet from Volantis. Tabitha? Talisa? Talisman Something-or-other?”

“My lord must be confusing her with another.”

“Eh, no matter. So is the harlot coming or not?”

“I’m afraid we aren’t sure. As I said, the RSVP was unclear.”

“Damn! This could spoil everything. Tell the musicians we’ll be playing it by ear after the feast. They’ll understand my meaning.”

“Umm… as you say, my lord. Also, the master-at-arms tells me to pass along a rather cryptic message. Something about the quarrels being completed? Was there some argument I was unaware of?”

ΒΆ Red Wedding at BustedTees