Edmure Tully

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃, 𝐉𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘𝐍, 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃, 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄.

⠀ ⠀❛ 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙺 𝙸’𝙼 𝙵𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 ⠀⠀⠀𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚆𝙰𝚁 𝚂𝙾 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈’𝙻𝙻 𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶 ⠀⠀⠀𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙶𝚂 𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚄𝚃 𝙼𝙴 .ᐣ ─┈ ⠀⠀⠀ 𝙸 𝚆𝙰𝙽𝚃 𝚃𝙾 𝙶𝙾 ⠀＊ 𝙷𝙾͟𝙼͟𝙴. ⠀

"𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝, 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝."

A queen must listen to all. The highborn and the low, the strong and the weak, the noble and the venal. One voice may speak you false, but in many there is always truth to be found.

“Aye. It seems that things with the war has taken a standstill.” There was never a truce agreed upon. Robb only retreated because of the issues that needed his attention. It’s better to fight whole than divided. “Nonetheless, I am glad that you are here, Uncle.”

A small laugh escaped her lips, before she took his arm. “Really. Right now.”

Roslin was quick to nod, well aware her cheeks were bright red now. “Only if you wish to, my lord.”

“Curl up together . . . Perhaps more?” She still wasn’t quite sure how to ask for him to join her in bed. But since their wedding, she had grown to love the private intimacy they got to share.

Her cheeks flushed as he kissed her. “Even if I wish to return to our marital bed?”

A smile blossomed on her lips. “I missed you this morrow. I woke and you were gone.”

Curling into his warm embrace with a smile. “My love, how are you?”

Right here! Forgive her, she’s been thanking the Gods for their blessings in the past year.

Robb gladly returns the hug, gently patting Edmure on the back. “Thank you, Uncle. I trust that marriage is treating you as well as it has treated me.”

Very well. You have my permission.

For?

Your apologies are not required, Uncle. I understand very well.

It’s good to see that his people are warming up to their new Queen after all.