Sweetgrass!!

Sweetgrass!!

Dusk.

The sun gradually sank, painting the horizon red.

"Heave-ho, heave-ho."

In the rippling sea of grass stirred by the breeze, a little figure swayed from side to side, working with all his might.

Several guards stood around him, watching in surprise.

Someone wanted to step forward and help, but the little figure kept backing up and could not stop himself.

"Ow!"

A pained cry rang out, followed by a little head of silver-gold hair popping free.

Aemon fell onto the ground, weeds perched atop his head as he muttered, "This stuff is way too hard to pull."

His butt was about to split into eight pieces.

"Prince, do you need help?"

A guard looked awkward as he asked quietly.

"No need. I've already succeeded." Aemon waved a hand.

In his hand, he tightly clutched a bundle of dark green grass blades.

The Magic Essence Panel promptly gave a notification:

"A clump of Sweetgrass containing magic has been discovered. Essence acquired: +1."

Aemon was quite satisfied. He stood and dusted off his backside.

With the help of Guidance Once, there was no way he would leave good medicine uncollected.

He called over several guards and headed straight for the East Coast.

He knew it would be easy!

"Let's see what it does."

Aemon smiled faintly and rubbed his hands together eagerly.

A dazzling panel appeared.

One of the three cards was gone, and the text beside the Golden Funnel below had changed: Essence Count: 7.

Exchanging for the card had cost 10 points of Magic Essence, while the newly acquired Sweetgrass had added 1 point. That made exactly this amount.

The rest of the panel had changed very little.

"So it's just a plant."

Aemon held up the Sweetgrass and examined it over and over, as if he could make flowers bloom from it.

This vegetation was not rare. He had heard of it in his previous life.

Together with ginseng and deer antler, it was known as one of the three treasures.

It was dried grass used to keep warm in winter.

With the panel's help, he gradually figured out how to use the treasure in his hand.

Weave it into a sleeping mat and sleep on it!

Sweetgrass containing magic could keep one warm in winter and cool in summer, calm the mind, and improve sleep quality.

With it, he would no longer have to fear strange dreams or failing to grow taller.

"You really are a wonderful treasure." Stars glittered in Aemon's purple eyes.

It was just that there was not enough of it. There was not even enough to weave a cushion.

The clever Aemon stroked his chin. This was no challenge for him at all.

He turned in a circle, his gaze sweeping across the endless sea of grass covering the mountains and fields.

A small opportunity.

There was more than one clump of Sweetgrass, wasn't there?

Aemon's mind raced, and he was already planning his great grass-pulling expedition up the mountain.

"One clump of Sweetgrass is 1 point of Magic Essence. Ten clumps would be 10 points of Magic Essence..."

A zero-cost business. Wasn't he about to become well-off?

As soon as the thought arose, someone appeared to interrupt him.

"Prince!"

A guard came from Runestone and reported, "Lady Rhea has returned. She is waiting for you in the hall."

"Alright, I understand." Aemon quickly came back to himself.

He tucked the Sweetgrass into his clothes and, under the layered protection of the guards, returned the way he had come toward the towering, majestic castle.

His little legs moved quickly, and he made it home before night fully fell.

In the spacious hall, Lady Rhea had been waiting for some time.

"Mom, I missed you so much!"

Covered in dust, Aemon spread his arms and pounced toward the young lady with the strongest presence in the room.

His chubby little face was full of smiles, making it impossible for anyone to get angry at him.

Lady Rhea remained expressionless as her son crashed into her straight legs and wrapped around them tightly like chains.

"When did you get back? I was even thinking of coming to welcome you."

Aemon tilted his head up, flashing his Little White teeth in a grin.

You couldn't hit a smiling kid!

He happily shook his head, his eyes fixed intently on his mother.

Lady Rhea was in the prime of her youth. She had inherited the black hair and black eyes of the First Men, and her slender figure was somewhat flat, giving her an air of capable heroism.

There was no need to mention her face. Her narrow eyes were bright and spirited, while her high nose was elegant and well-shaped.

She was a classical beauty with an imposing presence.

If she were not beautiful, Queen Alysanne would never have personally chosen her as her granddaughter-in-law.

"Ah!"

Lady Rhea lowered her head and stared sternly at him for a while before helplessly pressing a hand to her forehead with a sigh.

Just look at how this boy was dressed.

He was covered in dirt, his feet caked in mud, and his pockets were stuffed with weeds that even goats would not eat.

Anyone who did not know better would think he was the one who had returned from a hunt.

Aemon shamelessly tried to curry favor as he asked, "Mom, how long will you be staying home this time?"

Having been reborn into a young body had also given his temperament a childlike quality.

That was the benefit of being a future Grand Maester with clear yet foolish eyes, untouched by the filth of the world.

He was highly moldable!

Unable to handle his pestering, Lady Rhea pulled over a chair and sat down, answering distractedly, "Only a few days. There will be another hunt soon."

"Oh." Aemon had long since grown used to it.

"What do you think of this little deer?"

Part of the hunt's spoils had been piled in the hall. Lady Rhea pulled out a deer carcass as large as a dog and said to herself, "Don't you like venison? I'll save it for you to roast and make soup with."

Before Aemon could praise her, she lifted out two gray rabbits.

"The Vale is cold in winter. Snow hare fur is soft, so I'll have a new pair of gloves sewn for you."

Lady Rhea grew more animated as she spoke, admiring her prey. "And this black bear—you have no use for it. I'll skin it and hang the hide in my room..."

Aemon, left to the side: ...

He was touched, but he did not dare move.

As he listened to his mother chatter endlessly about her hunting experiences, his already poorly rested and exhausted little body began to give out. His small head bobbed as he nodded off.

Only when the old septa noticed did she change the subject, using dinner as an excuse.

The servants had long since prepared everything and swiftly brought the dishes to the table.

Aemon sat on his stool, his two little legs swinging back and forth as he stretched his neck to look at the food on his plate.

White bread slices, sausage, and mashed potatoes—a classic dry and bland meal.

Lady Rhea sat down without much interest, took her own plate, and began eating.

Also seated at the table was the teenage boy assigned to accompany him. Dressed in a bright yellow-orange set of Bronze Armor, he used a fork to eat with great seriousness.

Aemon gave him a strange look. "Why are you dressed like that?"

Ever since the Andals landed on the Fingers Peninsula, ironware had gradually become widespread across Westeros.

House Royce upheld the ancient glory of bronze and had a custom of wearing Bronze Armor.

But wearing it at the dinner table was far too strange.

William swallowed the food in his mouth, elegantly set down his knife and fork, and flashed what he thought was a handsome smile. "Lady Rhea promised that I could join the next hunt."

Aemon blinked, absentmindedly stabbing at his sausage with his little knife.

So what if you're going? What are you so proud of?

This fellow had been assigned by his mother to be his study companion half a month ago. He could also be considered a guard, Servant, or something along those lines.

His full name was William Royce, a cousin from the direct line of House Royce.

By seniority, even Aemon had to lower his head and call him cousin.

In the original course of events, William had also left behind a few scattered mentions. He was the wielder of Lament, House Royce's Family Sword, and one of the black queen's Kingsguard.

During the Dragonpit Riot, he foolishly led a team inside to rescue someone.

Not only was his entire team killed by the mob, but the immensely precious Valyrian Steel Family Sword was lost as well.

"I'm full."

Aemon wolfed down his food, then jumped down from the stool with his round belly sticking out.

His feet were still half a stretch from the floor, so he had to bounce once before landing.

Lady Rhea's delicate brows furrowed. Looking at Little One's retreating figure, she seemed as though she wanted to say something but held it back.

Aemon walked with cheerful steps, like a squirrel returning with a full load.

Lady Rhea shook her head, swallowed the important matter she had wanted to mention, and instructed the old septa, "Get him a different stool."

Hooray!!