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CHAPTER 161
290 AC
POV MC
This marked the final night of the festivities, and some of the lords had already departed for their respective lands. After over two weeks of continuous revelry, it was a relief to know that it would soon be drawing to a close. Tomorrow, we would begin our journey back home. The King, however, had a penchant for indulging in these celebrations a bit too enthusiastically. A fierce warrior on the battlefield, he transformed into a glutton once his hammer was set aside.
I made a conscious effort to keep my distance from him. Flies swarmed around him, and I had no desire to create new enemies by engaging in conversation I might later regret. Across the room, Jalabhar Xho sat alone, nursing his drink. He stood out with his traditional brightly colored feathers, his solemn demeanor, dark complexion, and a cleanly shaved head.
"Your Highness, may I join you?" I inquired.
He took another sip from his wine and replied with a welcoming smile, "Ah, the great champion! Welcome, welcome. Please, sit with me."
He let out a heavy sigh before continuing, "If only I had a man of your caliber by my side, I might not have tasted defeat in my sacred duel and lost my throne."
"Sacred duel?" I asked, intrigued.
"In my homeland, we do not wage wars as you do. Only true warriors engage in combat. When nobles must fight, it is in a tourney-like battle, similar to the melee, but a deadly one. I lost and was exiled while my rival claimed my throne."
...
As the night wore on, I engaged in a meaningful conversation with the prince. Time flowed uninterrupted, much like the wine in our cups. His inebriation grew apparent, and he began lamenting his lack of support from the Iron Throne.
"King Robert promised me military aid, but the vipers in his court whispered in his ear and changed his mind," he slurred.
"Why not challenge your rivals once more with better fighters this time?" I suggested.
He gazed somberly into his cup for a while, then downed his wine and replied, "I am in exile, without the honor or right to do so. If I were to return, only the executioner's blade awaits me."
"My prince, may I speak candidly?"
"Of course."
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
"I hold you in high regard, and it's clear you are a good-hearted man. However, your obsession with the throne clouds your judgment. You acknowledge you lack the right to it, yet you still desire it, even though invasion. But even if you were to seize the throne by force, once the Westerosi army retreats, you will face constant rebellions and challenges to your rule."
My words seemed to strike a chord with him, and he fell into deep contemplation.
"My prince, you are alive and well. Why not live your life fully rather than languishing in the corners of a court? King Robert will never send troops to help you reclaim your throne, and even if he did, it would likely be in vain."
"You offer wisdom, but you have never ruled. You have never sat on a throne, commanding the room, being the most powerful and important person present. You cannot truly understand," he responded with a nod. But before I could continue, he slumped onto the table and began snoring.
I sometimes envied them, missing the pleasant haze of intoxication. However, in this body, getting drunk was now impossible. I could feel a slight tipsiness, but the moment I stopped drinking, my body efficiently purged the alcohol from my system.
...
We were en route to Winterfell, traveling at a leisurely pace. Half of the Northern army still accompanied us, and most Northern lords remained by our side. This slow progress meant I couldn't simply leave and reach Winterfell within a few days. I needed to get to know these lords and establish connections with as many as possible. The Boltons, Dustins, and Ryswells were among the early departures.
As we rode slowly, Lord Stark approached me and instructed everyone else to create distance, ensuring privacy.
"What are your plans?" he inquired.
"What do you mean, my lord?" I replied.
"Why did you decline to become a landed lord?"
"Because it was premature, and, as Yohn Royce rightly pointed out, it would have created animosity among the other nobles."
Lord Stark observed the wagons in the middle of the convoy before speaking again, "You are now one of the wealthiest individuals in the North. What are your intentions with your newfound wealth?"
"Some of it I will invest, and some I must spend immediately."
"Be mindful not to squander your fortune. I will grant you land when you reach the age of 18-20. At that time, no one will oppose it. However, I can only offer you a modest holdfast."
"I would prefer a sizable but ruined one," I replied.
"Hmm, you already have one in mind, don't you? Which one is it? If it's one of the castles around the Gift, I cannot grant it, no matter how dilapidated. Those lands are already claimed by the watch."
"It's not one of those. I was considering becoming the Gate Keeper of the North."
Initially perplexed, Lord Stark soon realized my intentions. "Your funds wouldn't even cover a tenth of the repairs needed for the dilapidated castle. Why would you want Moat Cailin?"
"If I were to choose any other location, it would inevitably encroach on other lords' territories, sparking needless land disputes. By selecting Moat Cailin, I would only be appropriating a small portion from the Dustins and Manderlys. It's unfortunate but necessary."
"But you will still face land disputes. What difference does it make?"
"It does matter who I'm clashing with. If I had taken root around Sea Dragon Point, it would have been worse since the land is predominantly rocky. Claiming arable land from the Glovers would have exacerbated our already strained relations. However, at Moat Cailin, much of the area lies unused due to the superstition surrounding the castle."
I glanced around to ensure no one was within earshot before continuing, "Confronting the Dustins and Manderlys is a different matter."
"In what way?"
"My lord, you understand as well as I do. If the Manderlys weren't wealthy, they would have been expelled from the North due to their religious beliefs long ago."
Lord Stark's face contorted in anger as he responded, "I will not tolerate any conspiracy against a loyal house like the Manderlys."
"Please, stay calm, my lord. I am not conspiring against them. I intend to bring about their conversion, thus eliminating any religious division among us. The process may take anywhere from 5 to 20 years, depending on the success of my plan. However, I assure you that nothing will happen to the Manderlys unless they betray the North."
"They would never betray us," Lord Stark declared firmly.
"My lord, one should never underestimate the influence of religion. If the Manderlys adhere to the dictates of the Septons and act against the interests of the North, I can do nothing to protect them. Initially, only the Manderlys followed the Faith of the Seven, but over time, Oldcastle, Widow's Watch, and Ramsgate also converted. If we do not address this issue, the rot will spread throughout the entire tree."