Glen Quagmire brought Peter to a brothel. "What would Lois be doin' in here?" Peter asked.
"I put her here because no one else would think to look for her there," Quagmire said. "Follow me, and try to look a shade more lecherous and a shade less like the king's Hand. Perhaps you could fondle a breast or two, just in passing. All right!"
They went inside, through a crowded common room where a fat woman was singing bawdy songs while pretty young girls in linen shifts and whisps of colored silk pressed themselves against their lovers and dandled on their laps. No one paid Peter the least bit of attention. Quagmire led him up to the third floor, along a corridor, and through a door.
Inside, Lois was waiting. She cried out when she saw him, ran to him, and embraced him fiercely. "Pee-tah! You came!"
"Lois, I don't understand. What are you doin' in King's Landin'? Did somethin' happen to Stewie?"
"Somebody tried to kill him." Lois held up the knife, which she had brought with her from Winterfell.
Quagmire snapped his fingers. "Hang on, I know that knife! It belongs to Tyrion Lannister."
"The Imp?" said Peter. "Why would he wanna kill Stewie?"
"Probably someone put him up to it," said Quagmire. "Like the queen, or even the king himself!"
Peter paced around the room. "No, I won't believe that. Robert would never hurt one of my kids. He loves me like a brother."
"The accusation is treason either way," said Quagmire. "Accuse the king, and you will dance with Ilyn Payne the headsman before the words are out of your mouth. As for the queen… if you can find proof, and if you can make Robert listen, then perhaps…"
"Then I've gotta find some proof," said Peter. He turned to Lois. "And you've gotta get back to Winterfell. If there was one assassin, there could be others. Whoever ordered Stewie's death will learn soon enough that he's still alive."
"Where's Meg?" Lois asked. "I was hopin' to see her."
"That wouldn't be wise," Quagmire put in. "The Red Keep is full of curious eyes, and children talk."
"He's right," Peter told her. He kissed Lois. "I'll watch over Meg. You go home to our sons and keep them safe."
"As you say, Pee-tah." Lois wrapped her arms around her husband. Her fingers clutched his back with a desperate strength, as if to hold him safe forever in the shelter of her arms.
"Any room for one more?" Quagmire asked. "Giggity, giggity, goo!"
"Oh, get outta here, Quagmire!" Lois shouted.
"Okay." Quagmire strolled to the door. "But if you keep that up for much longer, I'm gonna have to start charging you. This is a whorehouse, after all. Huh. Huh. All right!"
When Quagmire had closed the door behind him, Peter turned back to his wife. "Once ya get home, send word to my lords bannermen. Helman Tallhart, Galbart Glover, Cleveland Brown, all those guys. Tell 'em each to raise a hundred bowmen an' fortify Moat Cailin. An' keep a careful watch on Theon Greyjoy. If there is war, we're gonna need his father's fleet."
"War?" The fear was plain on Lois's face.
"It probably won't come to that," Peter said. "But we gotta be ready in case it does."