Lord Bolton's reply was brief: "Still interrogating."
Robb turned his head to look at Lord Bolton, his gaze cold: "Bolton, who do you think it is?"
After meeting Robb's gaze for a moment, Lord Bolton's faint voice sounded: "King, suspicion will make you lose your sense of justice."
Robb withdrew his gaze and murmured, "Justice..."
He said painfully, "If it were justice, the one to meet the stranger should be me, not my Uncle and my beloved wife."
Flames seemed to burn in the Young Wolf's eyes as he looked at Lord Bolton again and said in a deep voice, "Answer my question."
Lord Bolton seemed oblivious to Robb's anger; he calmly looked at Maester Wyman and said, "King, he also knows my suspicion."
Robb's gaze shifted to Maester Wyman.
"Your Majesty, the poisoned wine was most likely swapped during Greatjon's conflict with Black Walder; that was the best opportunity."
Ser Brynden interjected, "Maester Wyman, have you interrogated the servants and maids who poured the wine at the time?"
Maester Wyman first nodded, then shook his head, sighing, "It was very chaotic at the time. Of the seven servants and seven maids present, only two servants and three maids survived. We interrogated them, but found nothing suspicious."
Robb frowned and asked, "Why did so many die?"
Lord Bolton explained, "Most of the people in the hall were noble ladies and young women from the Riverlands. In that situation last night, we couldn't control the situation without killing people."
After a moment of hesitation, he added, "Frey contributed a lot."
Pausing, Robb asked, "Bolton, is that the source of your suspicion?"
Lord Bolton frowned and said, "No, until I find a witness or evidence, I will suspect everyone, King."
As Lord Bolton's words fell, Robb remained silent, and Maester Wyman couldn't help but speak, "Your Majesty, Black Walder's actions are indeed very suspicious. For example, his sudden offensive behavior."
After a pause, he continued, "For example, although he acted to stop the chaos for you, he smashed too many people's heads. Of course, everyone knows Black Walder is bloodthirsty."
King Robb said in a low voice, "No evidence..."
Ser Brynden's large hand rested on Robb's shoulder. He squeezed it and said, "Son, don't forget you are our King."
The two looked at each other, Ser Brynden nodded slightly, and then... Robb also nodded, saying, "Uncle, until the murderer is found, you will take over the defense of Riverrun. No one is allowed in or out without your permission."
"Leave it to me."
At this moment, Lord Bolton suddenly said, "King, the murderer is very likely two people."
Seeing Robb's gaze shift to him, he continued, "I also suspect the Lannister envoys; they disappeared too quickly."
Maester Wyman echoed, "Someone saw that as soon as Edmure showed signs of abnormality, they quietly left the wedding feast, as if they had anticipated what was to come."
"King Robb!" At the doorway, Greatjon's voice boomed like a bell.
He entered the sept, saying as he walked, "The Kingslayer is gone!"
Robb rubbed his brow and said, "Be more specific, Greatjon."
"Uh... last night, we were so busy sealing off all the houses that we didn't notice the situation inside. A servant discovered it when bringing food to the cells; the two guards overseeing the Kingslayer were already dead."
Robb gritted his teeth and said, "Lannister."
Lord Bolton looked at Robb: "It seems the Lannister envoys were prepared. Too many coincidences... it's impossible not to be suspicious."
Robb said coldly, "They had a premeditated plan, just waiting for a chance to escape..."
His voice trembled with surging anger: "Lannister!"
"Greatjon! Prepare 500 cavalrymen, choose the best riders, two horses per man, and select 1000 of the strongest warhorses."
"Yes, King Robb!"
Greatjon turned and left. Robb looked at Ser Brynden: "Uncle, I will be back before the funeral."
Ser Brynden opened his mouth slightly, then sighed softly, saying, "Don't worry."
Lord Bolton frowned and stepped forward: "King, you should stay here. Please leave the pursuit of the Kingslayer to me."
Robb looked at Lord Bolton's ice-sculpted face and said, "Please keep a close eye on Frey for me, Bolton, Earl of the Dreadfort."
Having said that, he gently covered his "sleeping" wife with a silver-grey cloak embroidered with a Direwolf.
...
That night, the Lannister party, having successfully escaped from Riverrun, rested on a bank of the Red Fork River.
Tyrion leaned against a small tree, next to him a pair of muddy boots he had taken off.
Footsteps approached, and a bearded Jaime Lannister walked over and sat down beside him.
Tyrion turned his head to look at the bonfire not far away and said, "Brother Jaime, you should warm yourself by the fire more."
Ser Jaime smiled relaxedly: "I've been in the Black Cells for a bit too long, still not quite used to the firelight."
Tyrion chuckled: "I'm sure you kept your eyes closed the whole time on the raft."
He picked up the wineskin, took a drink, and then tossed it to Jaime.
As Jaime caught the wineskin, Tyrion grinned: "I know you're so moved you want to kiss me, use this instead. I only like the kisses of beautiful women, brother."
Hearing his brother's complaint, Ser Jaime couldn't help but laugh. He picked up the wineskin and took a large swig of wine.
He handed the wineskin to Tyrion and said, "Still, I have to say thank you, Tyrion."
Taking the wineskin, Tyrion shrugged and said, "It's not too late to express your gratitude when we safely reach King's Landing."
He pointed to the dried blood on Ser Jaime's left forearm and said, "Is it serious? I have horses hidden in the town ahead. If it's serious, we can find a physician when we take the horses. Besides that town, we'd best not appear before anyone else's eyes. I'm worried the Young Wolf might send pursuers."
"Just a minor injury."
Jaime smiled indifferently: "I've been in the Black Cells for a bit too long, my movements have even become sluggish. I was just grazed by a sword."
Tyrion smiled, took a drink of wine, and said no more.
All around was quiet, broken only by the occasional chirping of insects.
A gentle breeze caressed them. Ser Jaime gazed into the distance, lost in thought.
After a long while, Jaime's voice suddenly broke the silence: "Tyrion, how is Cersei?"
Tyrion sighed, throwing his hands up, and said, "Jaime, you finally asked me about the one thing I didn't want to discuss with you."
Under Jaime's slightly puzzled gaze, Tyrion continued, "Jaime, listen to my advice, leave Cersei. She's not worth your loyalty."
"Loyalty?" Jaime's green eyes trembled slightly.
After a pause, he said, "Protecting her is my duty, Tyrion."
Tyrion scratched his head, hesitated for a moment, and then said, "Jaime, you might be very loyal, but Cersei isn't, I mean loyalty in bed."
He pinched his chin: "As for duty, many people can replace you, and Cersei is very happy."
Ser Jaime frowned. He gazed at his smiling brother for a moment and said, "Tyrion, explain yourself clearly."
Tyrion spread his hands, saying helplessly, "Alright..."
He leaned forward slightly: "Brother Jaime, when you were locked in the dark Black Cells, many young and handsome knights were comforting Sister Cersei, so she was very happy every day."
He grinned: "For example, our cousin. Although Lancel can't wield a sword like you, I hear Cersei really enjoys his prowess in bed."
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