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I think you lost this war
the day you married her.
King in the North.
Or should I call him
the King Who Lost the North?
Kill me and be cursed.
You are no king of mine.
The usurper Robb Stark.
I've won every battle,
but I'm losing this war.
If we don't do this and do it now,
we're lost.
I'll marry her.
You're paying for my sins, Uncle.
I've always hated the bells.
They ring for horror--
a dead king, a city under siege.
- A wedding. - Exactly.
We've underestimated the Stark boy for too long.
He has a good mind for warfare, his men worship him.
And as long as he keeps winning battles,
they'll keep believing he is King in the North.
You've been waiting for him to fail.
He is not going to fail,
not without our help.
This is a plot.
Plots are not public knowledge.
They say he can't be killed.
And do you believe them?
No, My Lord.
Anyone can be killed.
But you know the song "The Rains of Castamere"?
Of course. They play it so often here at court.
He rebelled against my father.
Do you know where House Reyne is now?
Gone.
Gone.
A gentle word.
Why not say slaughtered?
Every man, woman, and child
put to the sword.
"And now the rains weep o'er their halls,
and not a soul to hear."
200 Northmen slaughtered like sheep.
The debt will be repaid, my friend.
For them and for your sons.
Will it?
They rot in the ground
while their killer runs free.
The Kingslayer won't remain free for long.
My best hunters are after him.
- Shall we drink on it? - I don't partake.
You do understand how suspicious that is to ordinary people?
Very well.
You will give my regards to Lord Tywin, I trust?
Tell Robb Stark I'm sorry I couldn't make his uncle's wedding.
The Lannisters send their regards.
Let me stand at least.
Let me go with a bit of dignity.
The King in the North arises.
The Lannisters send their regards.
You've said goodbye to Bran?
He's not going to die. I know it.
You Starks are hard to kill.