A sleek ship slowly raised its sails, emblazoned with the twin towers sigil.
It was a Frey vessel.
Given Jon's current situation, Old Walder found it inappropriate to continue discussing marriage alliances.
Instead, after offering some consolation, he arranged for Jon to be ferried from the Twins.
However, the old fox hadn't given up entirely.
He gifted Jon a suit of high-quality plate armor, along with two fine steel longswords.
One hilt was embedded with a ruby, the other with a sapphire.
This might not have meant much on its own, but he had Roslin personally help Jon don the armor.
"Jon... Lord Jon, please don't be too heartbroken. Only by taking care of yourself can you avenge Lord Eddard. I... I will wait at the Twins for your safe return."
Jon looked at the delicate girl and suddenly realized: Wait, isn't this Robb's aunt-in-law?
Before the Red Wedding, after Robb broke his marriage pact, he offered his uncle Edmure Tully, Lord of Riverrun, as a replacement groom to cement the alliance.
By all accounts, Edmure and Roslin actually had a decent relationship after marriage.
And Roslin was one of the kinder Freys.
She knew everything before the Red Wedding happened.
But she couldn't say a word.
So all she could do was weep incessantly during the ceremony.
After she became pregnant, she prayed for a daughter so that Old Walder wouldn't kill Edmure.
Jon estimated her words were about thirty percent genuine, seventy percent act.
Especially that last line, "I will wait for you at the Twins."
Old Walder almost certainly made her say that.
The intention was too obvious.
Maybe Jon's deliberately humble and sincere demeanor had won him a little goodwill, but definitely not enough for her to pledge herself to him.
Jon had a rule in life:
Don't underestimate the enemy's strength, and don't overestimate your own charm.
"Thank you, Lady Roslin."
Soon, the armor was on. Roslin then brought out a black cloak to fasten around him.
Jon crouched slightly. Roslin's slender arms circled his neck as she patiently fastened the clasp.
For a moment, they were less than half a foot apart!
Jon smelled the scent of lilacs on her.
Looking at her fresh, pretty face, Jon felt a small flutter.
Of course, that was just a normal physiological reaction; he was far from falling in love.
However, Old Walder had already launched two "attacks." Now it was Jon's turn.
Defending without attacking wasn't Jon's style.
Jon remembered that Roslin was skilled in music. Seeing the ship waiting and no one else too close, he softly sang:
"I have fallen for you ~ Longing to be together..."
Jon's crooning stunned Roslin, and her pale face instantly flushed red.
"But the gap between us ~ Is a distance too great..."
Roslin froze, clearly at a loss.
Especially as the warm breath from the boy's singing brushed against her face, making her feel like her ears were burning.
"I can only lie to myself, lie that I can let you go ~
Can I hold you ~ Even for just a moment..."
Jon only sang a few lines because he couldn't remember the rest of the lyrics.
But for a medieval girl just awakening to romance, it was like a nuclear bomb going off in her brain.
Her heart pounded like a fish just hauled onto shore, or a rabbit just caught in a net.
"Lady Roslin, I hope we meet again." With that, Jon turned and boarded the ship.
"Jon..."
Roslin's hand hovered in mid-air. She stood dazed for a moment, then looked around frantically.
She suddenly met the meaningful gaze of a pot-bellied man and felt flustered.
Though the pot-bellied man didn't know what Jon had whispered to his sister, he reminded her:
"Don't think too much, it's just Father's task. Go stand over there. Wait until our ship is out of sight before you go back."
"Mm."
Roslin nodded. This was indeed part of the improvised plan.
But if it started as just a task, now she was genuinely reluctant to part with the big boy who had sung to her.
He was the first, after all.
The innocent girl didn't know that Jon's motives for getting close were impure.
She just thought she had met her Prince Charming.
---
"Look, Jon. My sister Roslin seems reluctant to see you go," the pot-bellied man in the cabin remarked to Jon.
Jon turned to look. Roslin, in her blue dress, stood on the dock like a statue keeping watch.
He said nothing.
But the expression on his face shifted constantly.
Now lingering affection, now sorrow.
When he turned away, he looked like he had made a great resolve.
He sang to Roslin hoping to keep better tabs on the Twins.
Later, he could send a raven to her room, asking her to spy for him within her capabilities.
To put it bluntly, Jon was playing with someone's feelings.
But Old Walder had plotted against him first; he was just collecting a little interest.
As for Roslin...
If Jon could end the war sooner, perhaps her fate would be better too.
Jon looked at the pot-bellied man and said:
"My Lord, forgive my rudeness, but I don't even know your name yet."
"Ah, I'm Rhaegar."
What the hell?!
Shock flashed in Jon's eyes.
What tier are you to share a name with my dad?
This Frey's appearance was... unflattering, to say the least.
Big belly, skinny legs, and a pointy head.
He looked exactly like an ice cream cone.
Especially when he spoke, a sour odor wafted from his mouth.
Jon learned that Rhaegar Frey was a widower with two sons and a daughter.
Rhaegar Frey continued:
"Haha, surprised, right?" He pointed to a boy outside, about thirteen or fourteen. "That's my son out there. His name is Robert Frey. He'll be your squire from now on. The boy is a bit scrawny, but he's got a good head on his shoulders. I hope he can learn some skills from you."
"Rest assured, my Lord. I will teach him to the best of my ability."
Jon accepted the arrangement for now, and the two chatted idly.
After a while, they looked out at the scenery.
The ships of the Twins were fast; soon they sailed out of Frey territory.
Jon noticed that within Frey lands, the commoners could still live somewhat normal lives. But once they left the range of the two rivers, Jon saw vast swathes of burnt farmland and houses.
The charred ruins of homes and fields were scattered like black islands across the yellow-green earth.
Undoubtedly, these were the "masterpieces" of the Lannisters.
Jon really didn't like this world.
Lords, knights—they acted without restraint on their own lands.
Like petty emperors.
But once they marched onto someone else's land, they truly stopped acting human.
The so-called Kings were, in the end, just the most powerful lords.
As long as the nobles below them paid their taxes in gold and blood, they had no mercy or care for the commoners.
Unchecked power turns the world into hell!
This world needs a ruler who can unite everything!
The thought popped into Jon's mind.
How strong were the White Walkers?
How many of them were there?
Jon didn't believe a disaster brewing for eight thousand years could be resisted by a single savior.
He might be the leader, but a leader must rely on the strength of everyone to overcome the crisis.
But he quickly suppressed the thought.
One had to be pragmatic.
First, figure out how to stop Robb from declaring himself King.
At least then there would be a way out.
Soon, night fell. Jon and Rhaegar Frey were resting in the cabin when they heard a commotion.
Little Robert ran out first, then shouted into the cabin:
"Father, Lord Jon! Come out and look!"
Jon and Rhaegar Frey walked out of the cabin. In the sky above, a bright red streak had appeared.
It was red and long, coming from the east.
Like a god had used a fingernail to slash a wound across the night sky.
"W-what is that? Is a disaster coming?" a sailor asked fearfully, while others knelt directly on the deck.
"Doom is coming. It must be doom."
"Gods, you know me, I've always been pious..."
"Seven save us."
Sailors were superstitious by nature, and such a celestial phenomenon terrified them.
They knelt on the deck, clutching their chests and muttering prayers.
"Father, w-what is that?"
"It's a comet."
Compared to the ignorant sailors, Rhaegar Frey was educated.
He knew some basic astronomy.
But in his experience, comets were usually blue or white.
A red comet like this was rare indeed.
"Jon, what do you think?"
Rhaegar Frey asked Jon, who stood in the shadows.
"My Lord, I don't know either. It's truly... truly astonishing."
Jon certainly knew!
Even if he didn't know exactly what the red comet was scientifically, he knew what its appearance signified.
It meant the famous "Beggar King" had likely been crowned with molten gold and died in a foreign land.
It meant Drogo, the Khal who roamed the Dothraki Sea, was now a vegetable and had been mercy-killed by his own Khaleesi.
And this Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea—Daenerys Stormborn—had hatched three dragons from the fire, nearly two centuries after dragons had vanished!
Starting with these three hatchlings, she would embark on a path of power and vengeance.
Of course, dragons would have a massive impact on the world's geopolitical landscape.
But the Mother of Dragons was thousands of miles away; she couldn't affect Westeros in the short term.
Another theory Jon knew was that the appearance of the red comet signified the resurgence of magic.
Perhaps he should pay attention to magical matters from now on.
After all, magic was an essential catalyst for the rapid evolution of the Seven Kingdoms' situation.
"Something the whole world has lost..."
Jon recalled the words of the mountain clan prisoner again.
That description pointed to two key things.
One was dragons.
The other was magic.
Jon decided that after returning from Riverrun, he definitely had to visit the Mountains of the Moon.
It should be a fruitful trip.