(Male protagonist's perspective)
It was the final night of the celebrations, and some lords had already set off to return to their respective territories. After more than two weeks of continuous revelry, everyone breathed a sigh of relief knowing the festivities were coming to an end. Tomorrow, we would embark on our journey home. However, the king, enjoying the festivities, was a little too enthusiastic. He was a valiant warrior on the battlefield, but once he put down his hammer, he became a glutton.
I consciously kept my distance from him. Flies buzzed around him, and I didn't want to make a new enemy by talking to him, or I might regret it later. Across the room, Jalabhar Xho sat alone, drinking. He was dressed in traditional, brightly colored feathers, with a dignified demeanor, dark skin, and a clean-shaven head, making him particularly striking.
"Your Highness, may I join?" I inquired.
He took another sip of his drink and replied with a welcoming smile, "Ah, great champion! Welcome, please have a seat."
He sighed heavily, then continued, "If I had someone as talented as you by my side, perhaps I wouldn't have tasted defeat in the sacred duel, nor would I have lost my throne."
"A sacred duel?" I asked curiously.
"In my homeland, we don't wage war like you. Only true warriors participate in battle. When nobles must fight, they engage in skirmishes resembling close combat, but deadly. I lost, was exiled, and my rival seized my throne."
Nightfall fell, I had a meaningful conversation with the prince. Time flowed on relentlessly, like the wine in our glasses. His intoxication grew more and more apparent, and he began to lament his lack of support from the Iron Throne.
He mumbled incoherently, " King Robert promised me military aid, but the Viper in the palace whispered something in his ear that made him change his mind."
"Why not challenge your opponent again with even better warriors this time?" I suggested.
He pondered for a moment, then downed his drink in one gulp and replied, "I am in exile, with neither honor nor the right to do so. If I return, only the executioner's blade awaits me."
"Your Highness, may I speak frankly?"
"Of course you can."
"I have great respect for you, and it is clear you are a kind-hearted man. However, your obsession with the throne has clouded your judgment. You admit you have no right to the throne, yet you still crave it, even at the cost of invasion. But even if you seize the throne by force, once the Westeros army retreats, you will face constant rebellions and challenges to your rule."
My words seemed to touch a nerve with him, and he fell into deep thought.
"Prince, you are alive and well. Why not live a good life instead of languishing in a corner of the palace? King Robert will never send troops to help you reclaim the throne, and even if he did, it would likely be in vain."
"You possess wisdom, but you have never ruled a country. You have never sat on the throne, commanded the entire assembly, or been the most powerful and important person present. You could never truly understand." He nodded in response. But before I could continue, he slumped onto the table and began to snore.
Sometimes I envy them and miss the blissful, hazy feeling of being drunk. However, it's impossible to get drunk in this body now. I can feel a slight buzz, but the moment I stop drinking, my body effectively eliminates the alcohol.
We traveled leisurely on our way to Winterfell. Half of the North army remained with us, and most of the North lords were still with us. This slow progress meant I couldn't possibly leave and reach Winterfell in just a few days. I needed to get to know these lords and establish contact with them as much as possible. House Bolton, House Dustin, and House Ryswell were among those who had set out earlier.
We rode slowly forward. Lord Stark approached me and ordered the others to keep their distance and ensure privacy.
"What are your plans?" he asked.
"What do you mean, sir?" I replied.
Why did you refuse to become a lord?
"Because the time is not yet ripe, and as Yohn Royce rightly pointed out, this would incite hostility among the other nobles."
Lord Stark surveyed the carriage in the middle of the caravan, then spoke again, "You are now one of the richest men in the North. What are your plans for this newfound wealth?"
"Some I will invest, some I must spend immediately."
"Be careful not to squander your wealth. I will grant you land when you are 18-20 years old. At that time, no one will object. However, I can only give you modest security."
"I'd rather have a decent-looking but ruined place," I replied.
"Hmm, you've already decided, haven't you? Which one? If it's Citadel around the the Gift, no matter how dilapidated, I cannot agree to it. Those lands have already been occupied by the Night's Watch."
"This isn't one of them. I'm considering becoming the Gatekeeper of the North."
Lord Stark was initially puzzled, but quickly understood my intention. "Your funds aren't even enough for a tenth of the repairs to this dilapidated Citadel. Why do you want Moat Cailin?"
"If I had chosen another location, I would have inevitably encroached on the territories of other lords, causing unnecessary land disputes. By choosing Moat Cailin, I only seized a small portion of land from the House Dustin and House Manderly. This was unfortunate, but also necessary."
"But you will still face land disputes. What's the difference?"
"It really matters who I clash with. If I were to establish myself around Sea Dragon Point, things would be worse, because the land there is mostly rocky. Demanding farmland from the Glover would exacerbate our already strained relationship. However, along the Cailin River, much land remains undeveloped due to the superstitions surrounding the Citadel."
I glanced around to make sure no one was listening before continuing, "Going against the House Dustin and House Manderly is another matter."
"What method?"
"My lord, you understand as well as I do. If the House Manderly weren't wealthy, they would have been expelled from the North long ago because of their religious beliefs."
Lord Stark's face contorted with rage as he replied, "I will not tolerate any plot against a loyal family like the House Manderly."
"Please remain calm, my lord. I am not plotting against them. I intend to convert them to their faith, thereby eliminating our religious differences. This process may take anywhere from five to twenty years, depending on the success of my plan. However, I assure you, the House Manderly will be fine unless they betray the North."
"They would never betray us," Lord Stark declared firmly.
"My lord, never underestimate the influence of religion. If the House Manderly follows the Seven's orders and acts against the interests of the North, I am powerless to protect them. Initially, only the House Manderly believed in the Seven, but over time, the Oldtown, Widow's Watch, and Ramsgate have also converted. If we do not address this issue, the rot will spread throughout the entire tree."