Hera's family was murdered in cold blood by their enemies. Hera got away and went to Winterfell, where the Starks lived. She knew she would be safe there, because Ned Stark and her father were close friends. Now, years later, she still live there...
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CHAPTER THIRTY TWO - THE RAINS OF CASTAMERE
It didn't take long for them to arrive at the Twins. Grey Wind was running in front of the army, scaring off any threaths. Hera looked at the castle in the distance, frowning as a chill ran down her spine. She never liked Lord Walder Frey, and being in his castle made her feel uneasy.
They arrived at the gate and were welcomed by some of his men, before being escourted into the great Hall, while some of the Stark men remained outside to do as they wished. Hera trailed inside after her husband, ignoring the looks she recieved. She stopped beside Robb, Lady Catelyn and The Blackfish, as they were the ones Lord Frey thought to be most important.
A plate of bread and cheese were being passed around the hall, and when it landed in the arms of Robb, he took a piece of bread before handing it to Hera. She stared at the plate blankly before passing it to Lady Catelyn, who didn't take a bite either.
"My honoured guests," Lord Walder spoke up. "Be welcomed within my walls and at my table."
The man had grown even older since the last time she had seen him, if that was even possible. He was almost ancient, and Hera wondered how he had stayed alive for so long and how long it would take for him to kick the bucket. He didn't really seem happy to see them judging by his stoic face and bored voice. Well, she wasn't happy to see him either, so she guessed they were even then.
"I extend to you my hospitality and protection in the light of the Seven," Lord Frey said while taking a piece of bread from the plate that was passed to him.
"We thank you for your hospitality my Lord," Robb said. "I have come to make my apologies, my Lord, and to beg your forgiveness."
"Don't beg my forgiveness, Your Grace. It wasn't me you spurned. It was my girls," Lord Frey said while gesturing for his daughters to come forward. The girls came out from the shadows in a straight line, all of them keeping their heads down. They were wearing ragged dresses, and their hair were all long and tousled. What Hera noticed first however, were they faces. They all looked frightened, like they didn't want this at all. "One of them was supposed to be queen. Now none of them are."
"This is Arwyen my daughter. My daughter Walda, my daughter Derwa, my daughter Waldra," The Lord paused to chew on the bread in his mouth. "My eldest granddaughters Ginia and Neila. Serra and Sarra, granddaughters, twins. You could have had either. Could have had both for all I care." More chewing. "My granddaughter Marianne. My granddaughter Freya, and my granddaughter Wertha? Waldra? Waldina?"
The girl shook her head with a nervous look on her face. "I'm Mary."
"Fine," Lord Walder drawled. "And here's my youngest daughter Shirei, though she hasn't bled yet. Clearly you don't have the patience for all that."
Robb's mouth opened in surprise as he took a deep breath. Hera however, felt the anger bubbling up inside herself, but she clenched her fists to keep herself from saying something that would do more harm than good.
