"—It was the matter mentioned earlier: dealing with the corpses buried beneath the frozen soil of the North."
After some thought, Hand of the King Mace tentatively suggested, "Your Grace, perhaps this matter can be resolved with bounties."
In his youth, Hand of the King Mace had read Maegor Targaryen's biography in True History. That king had placed a bounty of one Gold Dragon on every Warrior's Son's head and one Silver Stag on every Poor Fellow's scalp, intimidating the Faith's rebellion throughout the realm.
Though Mace did not admire Maegor I's bloody methods, the allure of "generous rewards" had left a deep impression on him.
Warmth would never earn willing obedience; only profit was irresistible—this was Lady Olenna's teaching, from when he had just inherited his father's honors.
Thinking of this, Hand of the King Mace could not help but sigh. He had inherited Highgarden at roughly the same age as Gryn, yet more than a decade seemed to have slipped away in the blink of an eye.
"A good idea."
Gryn nodded in approval, his fingertips tracing the map of the Seven Kingdoms before him. "The North is devastated now, but in difficult times, people need an irresistible temptation even more."
Hearing Gryn's praise, the corners of Hand of the King Mace's mouth rose despite himself. "To be honest, it can also be considered a blessing for the North. After all, they have returned to the kingdom."
Lifting his gleaming golden goblet, Gryn took a small sip of Summer Wine. "Yes. Protecting the North is now the responsibility of the king and the Hand of the King."
Then he added, "Provided that the Duke of Winterfell accepts the proposal from the two of us."
Hand of the King Mace secretly curled his lip. "Lord Stark has no reason