House of Order, third floor.
Corleone is sitting behind the desk, holding a quill in his hand, writing on an approval document for the expansion of the pier.
He was wearing a dark gray casual coat, with the collar open to reveal a bandage wrapped around his chest. Not far from his hand, Balerion was curled up on the table to rest.
There was a gentle knock on the door.
"Come in."
After getting permission, Rorge opened the door and stepped aside.
Sansa Stark walked in from behind him, her long red hair braided into a thick braid, hanging down on her chest.
She smelled faintly of soap, probably because she had been at Laundry Alley all day, and her posture was still dignified.
"I heard that you want to see me, Lord Corleone." Sansa bowed slightly.
"Please sit down, Lady Stark."
At this time, Corleone just finished processing the documents in his hand and handed them to Rorge.
After taking the file, Rorge left on his own in a very sensible manner.
"I heard from Rorge that you are taking care of me during this time."
"Grand Maester Pycelle said you need to keep clean. I just did what I had to do." Sansa's answer was concise and concise, her big blue eyes looking directly at Corleone without hesitation.
Hearing this, Corleone pursed his lips slightly and said in a gentle tone, "In fact, you have no such obligation, Miss Sansa."
"You are not my servant or maid. I am paying you to be responsible for managing Laundry Alley's affairs, nothing more."
After hearing what he said, Sansa lowered her head and remained silent.
"This is different."
After a moment, she raised her head again and looked directly at Corleone, and said firmly, "You not only helped me get rid of Petyr Baelish, supported me in dissolving my ridiculous marriage with Lannister, but also provided me with shelter."
"In your words, I owe you a... no, maybe several favors."
"So when you were in a coma, I felt like I had to do something."
"To repay my favor?" Corleone asked.
"No." She paused, as if looking for the right words. "Because... you are my friend."
As soon as he said these words, Corleone's black eyes flashed with an elusive light. His left hand slowly stroked Balerion's back, and then patted the side of his belly.
As if he had made up his mind, he walked around from behind the desk and walked up to Sansa, naturally holding her hand gently and turning it over.
This surprised Sansa.
After all, since arriving at House of Order, Corleone has almost never had any physical contact with her, which is very different from those people before who always looked at her with malicious eyes.
But... it feels pretty good. Although his palm is not generous, it is very warm.
Corleone looked at it carefully for a moment, then Leng Buding said, "It's a little rougher than when I first came here. It seems that you have never done physical work before."
These seemed to be words of concern, and Sansa didn't know how to answer them for a moment.
She seemed to instinctively want to withdraw her hand, but found that there seemed to be some indescribable force in her heart that prevented her from doing so.
"But more powerful than before."
Sansa replied softly, but her voice was very steady. "Now I can wring out the sheets myself without help from others."
Hearing this, Corleone's mouth curled up with a trace of satisfaction.
It seems that she has indeed grown a lot these days.
"Rorge They should have dinner ready."
Putting down Sansa's hand, Corleone straightened his back, bent his arm in front of her and invited her very naturally. "Since we are friends, come and have dinner with me, my lady."
"It's never fun to eat alone."
Sansa was a little overwhelmed by the sudden invitation. She raised her head and looked at the other party, and saw nothing but sincerity in those dark eyes.
This reminded Sansa of the original Petyr Baelish, but it seemed different.
Because when facing Petyr, she always felt resistant and uneasy from the bottom of her heart, but she never felt that way when getting along with Corleone.
After hesitating for a moment, Sansa gracefully took Corleone's arm and stood up, smiling at him, "It is an honor, my lord.
The dinner was much richer than Sansa expected.
The rectangular table was filled with all kinds of food, including roasted lamb chops rubbed with honey and cloves, roasted bison shank, venison pie, peppered wild boar, roasted apples, roasted goose, berry pie, and a big bowl of steaming gravy with onions!
Sansa held the fork, and for a moment she didn't know where to start.
It's not that she has little knowledge. As the eldest daughter of the Duke of Winterfell, these foods are not very exquisite to her. When she was in the Red Keep, she could eat the same thing for almost a whole month.
What really surprised Sansa was that all these foods were made by the North!
Simple, solid, and filling!
In the past, every winter, the cooks would bring the whole roasted leg of beef to the long table like this. My father would raise his wine glass and, together with the the North vassals, toast to the long-term stability of the Stark family and the the North harvest.
She hadn't seen food like this for a long, long time since leaving Winterfell.
Not only that, there were actually a few flowers in a crystal bottle next to the dining table!
It's not easy to find fresh flowers during this season.
Sansa saw that the petals were still stained with water drops, and couldn't help but stretched out her fingertips to touch the petals lightly.
Soft to the touch, it's true!
"I ordered people to make these according to the North's taste."
After the waiters had put the dishes on the table, Corleone raised his hand to signal them to step aside, then stepped forward in person, picked up the jug and filled Sansa's glass.
"I don't know what you like specifically, so I asked someone to make some of everything."
Seeing Sansa touching the petals, he added, "As for these flowers, I sent people to buy a piece of land outside King's Landing for experimental greenhouse cultivation. It seems that their results are not bad."
"At least, on this day, I think there should be flowers."
"What day is today?"
Hearing this, Sansa turned her head to look at him, a trace of confusion flashed in her blue eyes. "Is today a special day?"
After sitting down, Corleone put one hand on the edge of the table and did not touch the tableware. He just looked quietly at the red-haired Maiden across the table.
The candlelight danced in his dark eyes, which looked deep and sincere.
"You are a clever and beautiful girl, Lady Sansa."
"As the eldest daughter of the Stark family, I know that since you divorced Tyrion, many nobles have tried to pursue you."
"Bywater, Flint, even that guy Herb·Lake mentioned it. I even heard that there is a guy from the Storm Land who is willing to give up half of his territory to propose to you."
"But you refused."
"Yes." When Corleone mentioned this, Sansa put down her fork and said calmly, "Because I can see that what they want is my surname and inheritance, as well as the Stark bloodline that can be born in my belly."
"In the eyes of those guys, I am not me, I am just a womb that will give birth to children."
When she said this, she did not deliberately avoid Corleone's gaze. She even had a faint smile on her lips and asked straight to the point, "Is this why you invited me to dinner today?"
"Yes."
Corleone did not deny it, stood up again and walked around the dining table to stand in front of Sansa.
But he did not choose to look down from above, but squatted down on the side of her chair so that his eyes were level with hers.
"You know who I am, Sansa."
"I am a Farmer who picks apples from the riverlands. I do not have a noble bloodline or an ancient surname. Although I have achieved some achievements, in the eyes of some people, I am just a lucky speculator.
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Saying that, Corleone paused.
The candlelight shone from the side, casting alternating light and dark shadows on his face.
"Whether it was the last time I went to Dragonstone or what happened after I fell into coma this time, I deeply felt that my foundation was still not deep. Although I did control the territory of Flea Bottom and tens of thousands of people in King's Landing, it was difficult to form a considerable combat effectiveness in a short period of time."
"As long as I'm not here, Flea Bottom and Black Hand Mafia will be overturned like a castle in the air at any time."
"Therefore, I need a strong force to support me."
"Although the Stark family is far away in the North, and Winterfell has now been occupied by Roose Bolton, there are still many the North lords waiting for the return of the Stark family."
"If I can rely on the North, then I can be free to do some things and make Black Hand Mafia the most entrenched force in the royal territory."
Sansa listened quietly, then tightened her hands slightly on her knees and hid them under the tablecloth.
Corleone was touched by such a frank statement. After all, those nobles who tried to pursue her in the past would use some high-sounding excuses to cover up their true purpose.
But Corleone actually said everything without any attempt to hide it.
"You... just for these?" But while being moved, Sansa felt a little disappointed.
"I've never thought much about the relationship between men and women."
Corleone noticed the strangeness in Sansa's tone, but he did not choose to deceive. Instead, he continued to add frankly, "In my opinion, any meaning between men and women often starts with "I'm sorry" and ends with "I'm really bored."
After hearing these words, Sansa couldn't help but slightly raise the corners of her mouth.
She remembered that Prince Oberyn often clamored to go to Silk Street when he was recovering from his injuries, but Corleone always used these words to make him speechless.
"But for now, everything I do with my power, including some sins, is to protect my family and friends."
Corleone's voice brought her thoughts back.
He was still half-crouching in front of her, with no calculation or hypocrisy in his dark eyes.
"I have no family, Lady Sansa, or I lost them before I gained enough power."
"But I can guarantee that if you agree to marry me, then you and your family will become my family, and I will spare no effort to protect them until the day I die."
Speaking of this, Corleone knelt down on one knee, raised his head and looked directly into the North Maiden's eyes, and said one word at a time, "Will you marry me, Sansa Stark?"
"Become my family."
After the words fell, there was silence in the restaurant.
Only the firewood in the fireplace made a crackling sound, and the sparks splashed on the stone wall and were quickly extinguished.
Sansa stared at the man in front of her motionless, with mixed feelings in her heart.
As the daughter of Eddard Stark, countless knights and nobles proposed marriage to her father, promising her protection and eternal loyalty. Even Joffrey did the same at the beginning.
But then...
But Corleone seems to be different from them.
His attitude was so calm, as if he was really just talking about something Fair Trade that was beneficial to both parties.
But Sansa saw more.
During her time living in Flea Bottom, she learned that Corleone was a person who never opened his heart to anyone easily, but now he chose to expose his most vulnerable part to her frankly.
What's more, at least he has done everything he promised so far, and it is even more thoughtful than what he promised.
Not only to her, but also to all... friends who have helped him.
"I do, Master Vito·Corleone."
After an unknown amount of time, Sansa stood up and faced him, trying to keep her voice steady.
"I am willing to marry you and become your wife and helper, but as a husband, you must also help me regain everything that originally belongs to me!"
"Of course, miss."
Seeing Sansa's chin raised slightly, pretending to be calm, a true smile that she had never seen before slowly appeared on Corleone's face.
Taking a long breath, Corleone stood up and turned back to the door and called, "Dessert is ready!"
Then he turned to look at Sansa, with a narrow smile in his dark eyes, "I heard someone mentioned that you like lemon cake best."
Soon, the study door was gently pushed open, and a young waiter walked in carrying a tray.
The cake is baked golden brown, with a fine layer of frosting sprinkled on the surface and a few mint leaves dotted on the side.
Corleone raised his hand to signal him to bring the cake to Sansa.
The waiter did as he was told and placed a piece of cut cake in Sansa's hand. Sansa picked up a fork and scooped out a small piece and put it into her mouth. The sweet and sour lemon melted on her tongue.
She closed her eyes, her eyelashes trembled slightly, and the corners of her mouth curved upward.
"Very sweet."
Sansa put down her fork happily, pressed the corner of her mouth gently with her handkerchief, raised her head and looked at Corleone, her eyes sparkling with true joy that she had not seen for a long time.
"I haven't had this taste in a long time.
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"Thank you, Master Corleone."
"Just call me Vito."
Corleone leaned back on the chair, his dark eyes looking particularly gentle in the candlelight.
He tilted his head slightly, with a sly arc at the corner of his mouth. "Don't thank me so early. In fact, I was prepared to be rejected by you before. If you don't agree, then I will let them share the lemon cake with the children in Flea Bottom."
"As expected, you never engage in loss-making business." Hearing this, Sansa was stunned for a moment, and then she couldn't help but laugh softly.
She suddenly discovered that this man who was always serious could occasionally be humorous.
Lowering her head and looking at the half of the lemon cake left on the plate, Sansa felt a sense of relief.
It turns out...
. You always make the right choice once.
The waiter came over from Sansa carrying another piece of cake, but Corleone's attention was entirely on Sansa.
"If you would like to invite your family, I can arrange for Ravens to come to Riverrun and the Vale."
"But Riverrun is still besieged by House Frey, and your uncle Lyndon is still holding on."
"It is said that in order to force Brynden to surrender, Lyman Frey erected a gallows, claiming that Edmure would be hanged unless Riverrun lowered the rebel flag."
"As a result, Brynden refused to do this, and as a result, your Uncle Edmure was sent to the gallows every day, and was put down again in the evening."
"As for Lysa Tully..." He did not continue, but shook his head slightly.
"I know." Sansa said it didn't matter empathetically, but the look of loss in her eyes lingered no matter what.
"Although your cousins may not be able to attend our wedding."
Seeing this, Corleone inexplicably comforted him, "But we have a better choice."
Before Sansa could react, Corleone stretched out his hand without warning and grabbed the wrist of the waiter who was bringing the cake!
Amid the doubtful gazes of the two people, he grinned at the seemingly ordinary waiter. "I'm right."
J
..Ellie ya·Lady Stark?"