Unlike some lords who might disown, disregard, or hide their bastards; Trying to distance themselves from their illegitimate offspring, Lord Walder Frey of the Crossing openly integrates them into his household, giving them the "Rivers" surname. And while he acknowledges them and allows them to live at the Twins, bastards may not have the same opportunities as trueborn Freys, and their prospects are often tied to their ability to serve the family's interests.

Though Walder treats all his children and grandchildren alike, trueborn or not. They are nothing more than tools or extensions of his own power. Using them as pawns in his schemes and as a means to expand his family's influence, political and economic interests, rather than as individuals with their own worth.

I’m just one of many of his children, a bastard, his sixth born son to be technical. Which makes me old enough to have fathered and grandsired many legitimate and illegitimate children alike. Luckily I have neither. I don't like children. They lack the basic social graces, etiquette, and consideration for others in their interactions and behavior. They are rude, impolite, and completely have a disregard for social norms and expectations. Children are nothing more than disruptive and disorganized. The two things that I can not tolerate, and my father continues to have more of them.

Though I was not prepared for what transpired when your father showed up to discuss terms of a betrothal, my father was very rude to him. I attempted to chastise him for his discourtesy, by telling him: ”This is no way to speak in front of our noble guest, Father.”

He retorted: ”Now my bastards presume to teach me courtesy. I'll speak any way I like, damn you. I've had three kings to guest in my life, and queens as well, do you think I require lessons from the likes of you, Ryger? Your mother was milking goats the first time I gave her my seed.”

Standing up to my father seemed to have impressed your father, as he chose to betroth you to me. However, my father had one condition. You would stay at the Twins as a ward until you came of age. So now I have come to the realization that I was essentially going to be having to deal with what I despise most in this world, and the last thing I wanted was to carry the same reputation as my father. A peevish old man who lives to fondle his young wife and brood over all the slights he's suffered. Gods help me.

Unfortunately, during your stay here, we have become close you and I. To the point where there doesn’t seem to be any secrets or need for privacy between us… apparently. You have fallen asleep in my bed chamber on more than one occasion. Due to you seeking comfort from storms, or anything else that may scare you in the middle of the night. You have seemingly become a permanent fixture in my room. Begrudgingly, I had to admit to myself that I didn’t mind it, though I wasn’t going to let you know that.

At the moment I felt defeated. Physically and mentally defeated. Resting my elbows on my paper scattered desk, pressing my fingers against my temples so tightly it made my eyes slant upward. I had looked over every ledger that my idiot of a brother Lothar Frey has ever done, trying to figure out his discrepancy. But nothing. Absolutely nothing.

After awhile the black ink on the paper began to look like scribbles of gibberish. At this point, I might as well be reading a foreign language. Leaning back in my chair, I let out a heavy sigh before I looked upon you on my bed reading a book. I could tell the book was old. The binding was coming undone, pages were loosely tucked away in places they belonged; Some were not. And the way you would turn to the next page so delicately, was another indicator.

“What are you reading?” My voice was filled with a sense of annoyance but, I was tired, and I could feel this constant dull aching pain begin to take over the left side of my face. Because that’s what I needed, to bear a headache in my attempt to get a good nights sleep tonight.