He's Cute, Isn't He?

Warm colors stirred Gryn's heart for just a moment.

There were some things Gryn couldn't immediately get used to.

In Gryn's memory, Kalaia was still the shy little girl who had followed Surana around more than a year ago.

His first thought was to marvel at how quickly people grew in this world.

What was Gryn thinking at that moment?

The main thing on Gryn's mind was that the castle's security needed improvement. No matter how vigilant Gryn was or how much he trusted his own strength, he couldn't rely on his personal vigilance to keep every thief at bay day after day. That would be foolish, and it would wear him out.

The important people and places in his territory all needed better protection.

He had to guard his vulnerable neck, in case a dagger suddenly slashed across it.

When he had the means, he would buy some Unsullied to serve as guards.

The Unsullied were reliable.

He would keep two Unsullied stationed outside his door at all times.

A poor lord's grand vision.

Gryn smiled faintly. "Kalaia, it's been a long time. Lady Surana, has she started giving you work yet?"

"I want to be your handmaid, my lord, but Mother thinks I'm not mature enough yet and need more training. She said she'll assign me to your service once she's satisfied."

"But I couldn't wait, so I came straight to you. Please forgive my recklessness."

Her explanation made sense. Surana was conscientious, and Kalaia's seemingly reckless actions were also motivated by her desire to serve her lord. As the daughter of someone close to the lord, she was unlikely to be blamed.

Gryn had soaked long enough, so with Kalaia's help, he put on his nightrobe.

Gryn took the red wine Kalaia handed him and sipped it, his brow furrowing on its own.

Sour wine, one of the specialties of Crabb Territory.

He had no idea how they made it so sour.

Was it the grape variety?

Good wine had to be imported, and it was too expensive. He would have to make do.

Well, after savoring it, the taste was actually all right... Gryn didn't want any more, so he put down the cup.

Gryn had one more reason to conquer the realm.

The night passed without incident.

Gryn first arranged for Kalaia to work under Maester Al.

Maester Al was very old and trembled as he walked. Gryn was deeply concerned about the maester's health.

When a lord's maester passed away, the Citadel would immediately send a replacement. But the Citadel was far away, so there would be a gap of at least three months, and Maester Al was the only one in Whispers who could send ravens.

That included feeding and caring for the ravens.

Ravens were the most important means of communication, and Gryn took them very seriously.

Those were all things Kalaia needed to learn and master.

Gryn had too much to do and too few capable people at his disposal. Kalaia, who could read and write, was a rare find.

Most importantly, Kalaia was reliable and trustworthy.

Ser Mason had finally returned.

According to the count, there were thirteen blacksmiths in the territory, and more carpenters—thirty-two.

Apprentices had to be assigned at the same time, with the work divided into separate processes. At first, each apprentice would learn just one process, which would help them improve quickly.

The basic framework of the factory was just barely adequate.

In response to their lord's summons, the craftsmen would bring their families and move here one household at a time.

Herschel, the chief steward of Whispers, was responsible for settling them in.

In Whispers, in the lord's study.

Lord Gryn, Ser Pell, Ser Mason, and Maester Al held a military meeting about the Mountain Wildlings.

Gryn's original plan was to wear down the enemy and then use fire, hoping to deal with the Wildlings without suffering any losses.

There were plenty of dry grasslands nearby, perfect for setting ablaze. The land close to a water source could also be cultivated.

As for the details of battle, Gryn's memories mostly consisted of fighting under his mother's command and killing the stragglers with a group of people.

After listening to their accounts, Gryn summed things up: he didn't know about other places, but fighting here sounded a bit like arranging a brawl.

Whispers would send someone to negotiate. If war proved unavoidable, they would set a time and place.

At the appointed time and place, the two groups would fight it out.

It was just a brawl!

Gryn tapped the table a few times, drawing everyone's attention.

"Ser Pell, I'll have Herschel prepare shields, longswords, bows and arrows, and ten of the clan's soldiers for you. Then recruit ninety more people, preferably experienced old hunters."

"Once that's done, you'll have a hundred men under your command."

"...Call it the Survey Corps. You'll be its first commander."

"Find as many people familiar with the terrain as you can. While Mason and I are fighting the Mountain Wildlings, I want you to be guests in their homes."

"I've had enough of the Wildlings' harassment. This time, I'm going to wipe them out."

"I need a large number of captives. The territory needs a lot of people to build it up, and the more captives you take, the greater your merit."

The plan was a little more complicated than their usual way of waging war, but it wasn't hard to understand. Ser Pell grasped it quickly.

Ser Pell accepted his orders solemnly.

Maester Al spoke with a tremor in his voice. "Lord Gryn, I have a map. Whenever I had free time, I kept an eye on reports about the Wildlings. I've been collecting and recording information for years. The map marks their territory and the location of their stronghold. Some details may be off, but the general picture should be right. I hope it will be of help to you."

Gryn pressed a hand to his chest and said solemnly, "Thank you for your contribution, Maester Al. House Crabb will never forget your service."

King's Landing, the Red Keep.

Cersei Lannister clutched a letter, greedily enjoying Jaime Lannister's caresses.

After a while, Cersei Lannister rose and picked up a red robe from the side, draping it over herself.

In her thirties, Cersei Lannister was still resplendently beautiful.

Cersei Lannister picked up a wine jug, filled a cup, and took a long sip to soothe her dry throat.

Watching Cersei Lannister pick up the letter to read again, Jaime Lannister smiled indulgently.

Jaime Lannister's smile always carried a touch of swagger.

"That boy's nothing but a flatterer."

Cersei Lannister's lips curled up. She habitually raised her pointed chin slightly as she spoke.

"Jaime, you don't understand me. He does."

Courage and beauty in one. I like that opening.

Jaime replied helplessly, "That boy isn't honest at all."

Cersei walked up to Jaime and stroked his handsome face, smiling as she said, "Jaime, you're not jealous of a little boy, are you? My dress really should be on you."

Jaime Lannister didn't dignify the question of whether he was jealous with a response.

"Planning to take him along on this hunt?"

"He's cute, isn't he?"