I rode back to the Twins under the weight of new possibilities. The silver stags in my pouch were more than just coin—they were proof. Proof that I had stepped into the game. Proof that, for the first time, I wasn't just surviving. I was playing.
But the real question was: who was I playing for?
I had two choices.
One: Tell Lothar everything. Feed him the information, prove my worth, and let myself be guided deeper into his trust. A safe option—if I was willing to be his tool.
Two: Keep this to myself. Let Bracken believe they had me, while I worked out my own future. Dangerous. But if I wanted true freedom, true power, I couldn't be a pawn forever.
The bastard son of Walder Frey couldn't afford loyalty.
The Report—A Half-Truth
By the time I reached the Twins, my decision was made.
I went to Lothar that night, finding him in his chambers. He was seated at his desk, quill in hand, writing letters—likely more of his quiet maneuvering, shaping the Freys' future with ink rather than steel.
He looked up as I entered. "You live."
I smirked. "You sound disappointed."
Lothar chuckled and set his quill down. "So? Did Bracken take the bait?"
I nodded. "They sent Ser Garren. He was cautious but interested. They want information."
Lothar leaned back, studying me. "And?"
I had rehearsed my answer on the ride home. "I told them House Frey has been in talks with the Lannisters. That there's whispers of shifting loyalties."
Lothar's expression didn't change, but I saw the approval flicker in his eyes. "Good. Just enough truth to be useful, just enough uncertainty to keep them guessing."
I had fed him a half-truth.
I hadn't told him about the coin. Hadn't told him Bracken was already testing me for more.
I was straddling the line between loyalty and ambition, and if I wasn't careful, that line would cut me open.
The Warning
Lothar poured himself a cup of wine, swirling it lazily. "Tell me, bastard… do you know why you're still breathing?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Because I'm useful?"
He chuckled. "Partly. But also because you understand the limits of ambition." He took a sip, then met my gaze. "Be careful not to forget them."
A warning.
He was testing me—watching to see if I would overstep.
I gave him a lazy grin. "Wouldn't dream of it."
Lothar smirked but said nothing more.
I took that as my cue to leave.
Laying the Next Move
Back in my chambers, I sat by the window, staring out over the cold, misty river.
I was now playing two sides, but I needed a third.
If I truly wanted to survive, to rise beyond being Lothar's tool or Bracken's informant, I needed an alliance of my own making. Someone else I could play against them both.
But who?
The Freys were a nest of snakes. The Riverlands were a battlefield waiting to ignite.
Somewhere in all this chaos, there was an opportunity.
And I would find it.
Because if I didn't…
I'd end up like every other bastard who thought they were clever—rotting in an unmarked grave.
---------------------
If you like this chapter drop a review and some power stones 😀