The rain fell softly on the towers of the Twins. The river below moved dark and slow. Inside the great hall, torches burned bright. Music filled the air. Wine flowed like a river. It was a wedding night.
King Robb Stark sat at the high table. He wore a crown of bronze and iron. His young queen sat beside him. She smiled, but her hands were cold. Something did not feel right.
The banners of House Frey hung from the walls. The old lord, Walder Frey, watched with small sharp eyes. He smiled too much. His sons stood behind him, quiet and still.
Robb tried to push away his worry. This wedding was meant to heal old wounds. He had broken a promise before. He had married for love, not for duty. Tonight was meant to fix that mistake.
Music played again. Louder now. Strange. The song changed.
Lady Catelyn Stark looked around the hall. Her eyes were sharp. She saw men closing the doors. She saw hands move to swords.
Her heart beat fast.
Outside, a wolf howled in the dark.
Suddenly, the music stopped.
A crossbow bolt flew across the hall. It struck a man near Robb. Then another bolt. Then another. Screams filled the air. Blood covered the tables. The wedding had become a trap.
Robb stood up, shocked. He reached for his sword, but arrows flew at him. His men fell around him. He looked at his mother.
"Mother…" he said softly.
Catelyn grabbed a young girl and held a knife to her throat. "Stop this!" she cried. "Let my son go!"
But no one stopped.
Walder Frey did not smile anymore. His face was cold. "The North remembers?" he said. "No. The North forgets."
Steel flashed. Blood fell on the stone floor.
The King in the North fell last.
Outside, the rain kept falling. The river carried the sound of death far away. The direwolf's howl faded into the night.
The Red Wedding had begun.
And the North would never be the same.