True Dragon Returns to the Nest 2

Ser Pell gently nudged his horse's flank. Its hooves tapped rhythmically against the ground as he approached Princess Daenerys.

"Your Highness, the weather is growing colder by the day. Being able to bring in a harvest is a blessing from the Old and New Gods."

As he spoke, he raised an arm and pointed into the distance with a soft leather-gloved hand. "Look, Your Highness. Most of the strong laborers are working over there... What they need is not merely enough food to fill their bellies. They also need stone houses and hearths that can withstand the bitter cold."

Daenerys looked in the direction Ser Pell indicated. After a pause, moisture shimmered in her eyes. "Seeing it with my own eyes is completely different from reading about it in the letters sent to Eyrie. I had truly believed that the people here already had warm homes and steaming-hot meals, Ser."

Ser Pell could not empathize with Daenerys's pity for the common people. He frowned slightly and replied, "Your Highness, this is not, after all, House Crabb's direct domain. For the lord of Saltpans and the landed knights nearby to ensure their smallfolk do not starve, while making such active preparations for winter, is already highly commendable, to be honest."

Out of loyalty, he added a reminder. "Strictly speaking, those we are supporting are the lords and knights who have sworn fealty to prince Gryn, not their smallfolk, my lady."

My vassal's vassal is not my vassal; likewise—the people of my vassals are not the people of Crabb.

Daenerys listened quietly. Only now did she gain a personal and profound understanding of the clearly layered rules of power among the nobility.

At the same time, she immediately understood why Gryn had divided the relief supplies into several batches and sent them