No Son of His/Tully

Myriah stares after Nyall, stricken. "Lord Hoster exiled his brother, but he would never spill his blood for any gain. Nyall is no son of his."

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"No son of his? Do you mean Nyall is not a Tully?"

"He's Tully blood, sure enough." She sighs. "But it's more than blood that makes a lord. He has nothing of Hoster's loyalty or duty, only ambition."

"Nyall grew up in Essos. He can never be a true son of the Riverlands."

"Were you and Hoster Tully lovers?"

"Aye, after Minisa died," she says. "He said I give him comfort. But when the rebellion started, he sent me away. I never heard from him again."

"Lord Hoster died a few years ago."

"Would Nyall be a good lord for the Riverlands?"

"I raised him to it," Myriah says. "Nyall is strong, smart. He had the best tutors.." Her face clouds. "But they didn't teach him how to show mercy."

"I would rather see Riverrun go to Hoster Tully's son than to Walder Frey."

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"I told Nyall the Riverlands were his birthright," Myriah says bitterly. "But now he shall have nothing from me but my curse."