10

Chapter Ten

Late 50 AC

I stood at the gates of my newly refurbished Keep and could not help but feel a sense of pride at the sight that greeted me. Sturdy stone walls nearly twenty feet high and a massive wrought iron gate now shielded my castle from my enemies. And it was a castle now. Where earlier had stood a single tower and adjacent housing now stood a daunting fortress. With two gatehouses, barracks capable of housing over a hundred men at arms, stables, a forge and an armoury, my erstwhile modest Keep could now be called a castle even by Westerosi standards.

With over two dozen rooms, a courtyard for sparring and drilling, a great hall, a private dining area, a refurbished kitchen and adjacent housing for servants, the tentatively named Eastwood Castle was beyond even my wildest dreams. As a humble blacksmith's apprentice, I had never imagined that I would be raised to a Lord, much less that of such an impressive Keep.

Sure it was nowhere near the grandeur and size as even Keeps such as Bronzegate or Haystack Hall, but those had taken generations to be built up to their current levels.

The renovations that I had ordered over two years ago were now almost complete. The Castle was now almost fully refurbished and the interiors that I had been ordering and collecting in anticipation for the past few years were now being fitted into the Castle. Tarth was a hub of trade and commerce and during my visit, I had toured the market to make several such purchases. Expensive carpets, rugs, bedsheets, curtains and other such luxury goods had been purchased.

During his last visit, Edwell had pointed out to me that while he did not mind the rather spartan furnishings of my Keep, if I ever hosted other nobility or secured myself a highborn wife, it would not reflect well on House Eastwood. With my marriage to Elena Tarth secured, I had decided that I would not be remiss in getting to know my new betrothed.

Chaperoned by her father, Ser Edmund, who I found to be a jovial and well-intentioned man, and Ser Morden, we had made our way through the market, as Elena selected the furnishings for her new House which would, in turn, be purchased by me. Objectively speaking, she was rather beautiful, with silver hair and violet eyes, she would one day grow into a classic Valyrian beauty, but she was yet just seven and ten years old.

I had spent the entire day in her company and found that she was reasonably intelligent. As a Noble Lady, she had been educated in the ways of running a household, but not much else. Still, Warren would be glad to have some of his responsibilities taken over by Elena soon enough. Hopefully, in time, she would try to breach her comfort zone and explore other possibilities but that was still some time away.

As I nudged my horse towards the town of Eastwood, much renovation was occurring there as well. With my wedding just two moons away, the renovations had been pushed into overdrive at both my Keep and the town. Eastwood now looked vastly different than it was prior to my ennoblement nearly three years ago. With wide, clean and well-maintained cobblestone roads, affordable and spacious housing and a municipal authority that was now working overtime under the able supervision of Warren and Master Armon, Eastwood was a model town by Westerosi standards.

Sure, there was still a long way to go before it would be satisfactory by my standards, but for now, my focus was to impress and awe the nobility attending my wedding. Ravens had been sent far and wide by myself and Lord Tarth. As was tradition, the wedding was to be held in the groom's lands and as such the past few moons had been spent frantically focused on getting my lands ready for hosting such a wedding.

I had set aside a few barrels of my finest whisky which had been aged for nearly two years which I was hoping to introduce to the nobles attending at a higher price than the standard fare that was aged for six months. I had even been forced by Maester Armon to purchase several casks of fine wine and ale as he had impressed upon me that I could not just serve whisky at my wedding.

The first thing that I had realised was that weddings were expensive. The costs of food, alcohol and decorations alone were skyrocketing. Added to that the cost of housing the various nobles attending, meant that I would have to dip into a substantial chunk of my treasury to manage these expenses. But these expenses were necessary. I had spared no expense on throwing the most lavish wedding possible.

The objective of this wedding was to show off the wealth and prosperity of House Eastwood, to the rest of the nobility of Westeros. I was trying to create a brand. My whisky, soap and other future projects, were all geared towards the high-income market primarily composed of nobles and merchants. If there existed the perception that House Eastwood was poor and destitute, then my brand would also suffer consequently. On the inverse end, if people believed that House Eastwood was prosperous and wealthy, my brand would also benefit similarly.

The Redwynes of Arbor were famous for their Arbor Gold. A brand that they had spent generations cultivating carefully. I hoped that soon, the Eastwood Whisky would also possess a similar standing. My wedding was the perfect opportunity to begin my ascent.

With my high-quality whisky and obvious display of wealth, I would be perfectly positioned to expand my network, gain allies and improve my standing. Being married to Elena would tie me directly to an ancient house such as Tarth, which would go a long way towards washing off the stain of my bastardy and common birth in the eyes of the nobility.

With Lords and Ladies from across the Stormlands and the Crownlands attending, I was practically a nervous wreck. Of my neighbours, the Errols of Haystack Hall and the Fells of Felwood had confirmed their attendance while Lord Buckler had stated that his cousin would be attending in his stead. The latter had made me wary and curious. Sending a cousin to attend a Lord's wedding, could be considered tantamount to an insult, especially so when the Lord in question was your neighbour and a trading partner. Lord Buckler and sons and daughter aplenty who could have attended in his stead. The fact that he was instead sending a cousin was problematic, to say the least.

Aside from that, Ser Bruce Buckwell, the Castellan of Storm's End had stated that due to his duties he would be unable to attend, but that Ser Ronnal Baratheon, younger brother to Lord Baratheon would be representing House Baratheon instead. The fact that my Lord Paramount's brother himself was attending, was an honour, to say the least, and I had given instructions for him to be housed in the finest guest quarters when he arrived.

Similarly, Houses Swann, Connington and some others had also confirmed their attendance primarily due to their ties and friendship with House Tarth. Lord Brynden and the rest of his Household would be arriving a fortnight before the wedding to see to the preparations as well as to finalise the trade agreement between Houses Eastwood and Tarth.

From the Crownlands, the Velaryons had confirmed their attendance at the wedding. While Lady Larissa's uncle, Lord Damon Velaryon was busy in King's Landing serving as Master of Ships, her cousin Corwyn, Heir to Driftmark, would be attending in his stead. He would be accompanied by a few Velaryon cousins.

Figuring out housing alone would be a nightmare of cosmic proportions. With various Lords and their families attending along with their respective retinues, I would have to ensure that the highborn attendees would be accommodated within my Keep while securing accommodation in Eastwood for the rest.

Even among the nobility, there was protocol to be followed. Lords, Ladies and Heirs of Noble Houses would have to be granted the most luxurious quarters, while nobles from branch houses and lines would have to be accommodated in less ostentatious but still luxurious quarters nonetheless. And all of this had to be done in a manner so as to cause no offence to all parties involved.

As I rode into the Eastwood Whisky Complex, I was approached by Bryan, "Greetings, my Lord. How go the preparations for your wedding?"

"Well enough my good man. In fact, I am here in connection with that." I replied. With the wedding coming up, it was necessary for my premium whisky to be ready for its launch.

"Indeed my Lord. The men and I received your instructions and are working to have the barrels ready in time. As per your instructions, we have divided the whisky into three categories. Red Label for those that are aged for six months, Silver Label for those that are aged for two years and Gold Label for those that will be aged for five years." Replied the man who had in a short time proved himself to be near invaluable to my business.

"And how many barrels of these will be ready in time for my wedding and then the first consignment to Tarth?"

"Well my Lord, of the Silver Label we currently have a hundred or so barrels ready to be shipped with another fifty to be ready by the time of your wedding. Considering the improved quality of the Silver Label whisky we are confident that the visiting Lords may purchase as many as a hundred barrels to take back with them leaving us with fifty for the shipment to Tarth."

I gave out a low whistle. I was planning on selling a barrel of Silver Label for fifteen dragons a barrel. A hundred barrels would net me nearly fifteen hundred dragons which was sufficient to pay for my wedding twice over. "And what about the Red Label?"

The man responded immediately, rattling off the numbers which he had long since memorised, "Of the Red Label, we currently have almost a thousand barrels ready for dispatch for our regular customers over the next two moons. For the wedding per your instructions, we have set aside two hundred barrels for consumption and purchase by your guests and a further four hundred to be dispatched via Tarth for the Graftons, my Lord."

With the deal with Tarth nearly finalised, the Graftons had placed an order for four hundred barrels which would be dispatched after my wedding. Apparently, Eastwood Whisky was gaining popularity in the Vale.

"Very well Bryan. Keep up the good work as always. I look forward to seeing you and your family at the wedding."

He bowed and said. "You are most generous my Lord. My wife is already sewing dresses for my daughters and herself. We all pray for you my Lord and could not be happier to see you married to a Noble Lady of Tarth."

I thanked him and headed into the town. I had to meet with the bakers, the innkeepers and caterers alongside a hundred other vendors. Who knew planning a wedding was so exhausting.

Hopefully, I have to only do this once.

"A raven from King's Landing my Lord." Said Maester Armon as he entered my solar.

I looked up in surprise, "From King's Landing?"

"Indeed my Lord. It appears that King Jaehaerys has reached his majority and the regency has ended. The raven states that you must either personally attend his coronation and declare your fealty or send a raven to that effect," replied the Maester handing me the letter.

I looked at the letter in mild surprise and confusion. I had been vaguely aware that the regency would be ending soon but the affairs of my lands and my upcoming wedding had kept me busy the past few moons. The powers in the capital rarely affected me and mine and I had barely paid much attention to the situation in King's Landing. Edwell would sometimes pass on some information to me as he had a cousin who served Lord Baratheon in the court but it was mostly gossip with little information that was truly relevant to me.

"Of course. Please draft the letter Maester."

"Very well, my Lord." The reachman immediately set about performing the task.

"On another note when are the Tarths due to arrive?" I said. With the wedding a little more than a fortnight away, the Tarths were due to arrive any day now. I was not looking forward to it. The idea of marrying a girl of seventeen still disgusted me. On the bright side, my trade deal with Evenfall Hall would be finalized and the first consignment would be dispatched immediately after the wedding.

"In three days my Lord. We have set aside the best guest quarters for them as per your instructions. I have assigned Fred to tend to their needs and serve as their escort during their stay here," replied the Maester.

Fred had served as an aide and unofficial apprentice of sorts to Maester Armon for some time now and was due to enrol at the Citadel soon after my wedding.

As I sat back in my chair I considered the implications of the news I had just received. I stood up and walked up to my bookshelf from which I pulled out a book labelled 'The Hymns of the Bards of Ghis'. A nondescript book supposedly written in an old lost dialect of Ghis, it was in actuality a written record of all my recollections of the books, show and other semi-canon sources of this world. The book was written in modern English which was different enough from the dialect spoken in Westeros as to be hard for any resident here to translate at pace, perhaps I should have tried harder to protect the content but assuming another obtained this book I would be dead and buried.

I had other such books which contained ideas for inventions, reforms and other modern practices that I could feasibly implement in this world. Another book, one closer to my heart, contained everything that I could remember of my old family, friends and home from before I died and was reborn here. But for now, I turned to the part which detailed everything I could remember regarding the early reign of Jaehaerys.

Three points stood out to me. The first was that Rogar would soon be dismissed and replaced by another whose name I had not been able to remember. Rego Draz would soon replace Celtigar as Master of Coin and Jaehaerys would soon begin the process of creating a uniform set of laws for Westeros. The last thing would not happen for a few more years but was the most relevant by far.

The factor that stood out most was the theft of the dragon eggs by Elissa Farman, but aside from the fact that it would happen sometime in the next few years and that the Hightowers would be involved somehow, I could not recall much about the incident.

Frankly speaking, there was not much I could do at this point. Lord Rogar would soon leave King's Landing in disgrace and hopefully, I would be able to work my way into his good graces. The support of my Lord Paramount would be critical if I wished to expand my road network beyond my own lands.

As I perused the book attempting to glean any further insights from my memories, I cast my gaze to my window. The sun was on the verge of setting and there was much work yet to be done. I set aside the book and glanced at the stack of paperwork on my desk. Most Lords deigned such tasks to be below them. But until I had more competent and educated aides, the bulk of supervision fell on me.

I would have two new additions to my household very soon. Elena and Serwyn Tarth. While I was confident that Elena with her noble upbringing would eventually be capable of managing my household, I was not so sure about Serwyn. It was likely that he had been trained in managing lands and a keep much like all noble boys were, but I wasn't sure regarding what tasks I could assign him.

If he had been martially inclined I would have probably placed him in the Town Guard and been done with it. But as Lord Tarth had made clear, arms were not Serwyn's strength. The few conversations I had with him had revealed that he was painfully shy but not dim-witted. That was something I could work with. I decided that I would assign him simple administrative tasks to evaluate him and then accordingly assign him more responsibilities.

Not even married and my in-laws are somehow still causing me grief.

I adjusted the collar of my doublet for what must have been the hundredth time that morning. A sheen of sweat stood proud on my forehead, the stress of knowing what awaited me shortly was getting to me in a way not many things had in this world.

Marriage. Not something I had been prepared for if I was honest. Talking about and arranging a marriage had a certain dissonance from the actual act in one's head.

In a way, marriage customs in Westeros were not all that different to my previous world. The similarities between the Faith and the Catholic Church were startling, such as the belief in different aspects of a god who was ultimately a single being.

The marriage was to occur in the Sept at Eastwood, which although not as grand as the Stormtower Sept, was still sufficient for my wedding.

The Tarths had arrived a fortnight ago and had been unable to hide their awe at the development of my little fief. Lady Larissa and the other ladies had spent much of their time managing the preparations for the wedding with Warren while I had as per custom invited the male nobility to join me for a hunt in the forest south of Eastwood.

Over the past few days, nobles from across the realm had trickled in as feasts were hosted and hunts organised while in the background my household worked doubly hard to ensure that everyone was well taken care of and the wedding preparations remained unhindered.

Edwell in particular had proven to be a godsend. He would aid in the preparations, engage in conversation with guests and made many a mention of the deep ties of friendship between our houses. As the son of Lord Errol, he was well acquainted with most of the noble guests from the Stormlands and had in a surprising gesture, through his actions, made clear that House Errol stood with House Eastwood.

As I adjusted my pants to better align with my doublet, Ser Morden entered my quarters. "The guests are waiting, my Lord."

"That they are. This marriage thing isn't as easy as it looks, is it Morden?" I replied. My nervousness was obvious on my face and I had never appeared more my age than I did today.

Morden gave me a small smile, "Truthfully, I don't know much about the affairs of marriage my Lord. I am a bastard. I have seen many men, acclaimed as the most virtuous knights, sire bastards and dishonouring their wives. But you are not that kind of man my Lord. You are a good man. And the Lady Elena is lucky to have you, for you shall never dishonour her the way men are wont to do."

I looked at him in surprise. It was rare for Morden to speak more than a few words at a time. And his words of encouragement meant more to me than I thought they would. Over the years I had grown close to the man, despite being well aware of the fact that he was a spy for Storm's End.

Morden placed a hand on my shoulder and I took a deep breath, "Treat her kindly and with respect my Lord and she shall, in turn, bear you sons and manage your household with dignity. Now come, my Lord. It is time for you to be married."

Walking through the doors into the sept I observed the gathered crowd who had to come to witness the ceremony. Whilst there were lords and nobility in attendance, in their own section of the hall, the bulk of attendants were the higher-ups in my business endeavours, many of whom had been poor commoners until a few years ago. I almost winced hoping none of the present Lords would take offence.

Reaching the end of the sept and standing before the dais the septon stood on, I took a deep breath and waited. A few minutes later I turned as I heard the sound of my soon-to-be wife entering the Sept.

I sat in the Great Hall of my newly renovated Keep. My wife sat beside me as the various guests drank and made merry at the feast. The past few hours had passed in a blur as we had exchanged our vows in the Sept. I vaguely remembered Elena walking down the aisle. I remembered thinking that with her Valyrian looks, she appeared nearly ethereal in the wedding dress and immediately afterwards thinking that no girl her age should be in a wedding dress.

In what felt like a blink of an eye, the wedding ceremony was done and the Septon declared us married. As we were escorted out of the Sept to the feast by my new goodfather Ser Edmund and Ser Morden, I had noted that Elena was glancing at me nervously. Perhaps I was not the only one nervous about the upcoming night.

A lot was riding on tonight. The debut of the Eastwood Silver Label Whisky was at the feast tonight. As I cast my gaze out across the Hall, I noticed Bryan and subtly gestured to him to break out the Silver Label. If the Lords enjoyed the six month matured swill that was the Red Label, then the Silver Label was going to knock them off their feet.

As the casks were rolled out, I stood up and cleared my throat, drawing the attention of the various guests. "My Lords and Ladies. It brings me great honour to stand here as a wedded man, surrounded by my family, friends, allies and well-wishers. I thank you all for joining me for my wedding, as a token of my appreciation, I bring to you, the brand new Eastwood Silver Label Whisky. Drink and enjoy, for the night is still young!"

As the various guests and nobility cheered and raised their glasses in celebration at the idea of free premium whisky, I turned my attention to my primary target for today. Ser Ronnal Baratheon, the younger brother to Lord Rogar, a Knight who held several positions of power and responsibility at Storm's End and based on what I had heard, was an avid drinker of Eastwood Whisky.

His attendance at my wedding had been surprising. I had not thought my wedding important enough for a Baratheon to attend. But it seemed that Elena's connection to the Velaryons, who in turn were also tied to the Baratheons through Lady Alyssa, merited his presence at my wedding.

I had interacted with him briefly when he had arrived. He seemed a fairly pleasant fellow, if a bit dim. But then again, from what rumours I had heard from Storm's End and based on what I had read in my previous life, he may not have been the sharpest knife in the toolbox.

He was seated on the High Table, as befitted his station, and I turned to him and said, "And how are you finding the evening, my Lord?"

He looked at me in a stupor, and I fought a grin. "I am well, Lord Eastwood. The festivities are very much to my liking."

I nodded and smiled, "I am glad to hear it. How fares Lord Rogar, news from the capital is somewhat rare here."

Ronnal winced and mumbled, "I believe he is returning to Storm's End soon, things with the King turned sour soon after he reached his majority."

That was in line with what I remembered. "Surely the situation is not that bad? Lord Rogar is after all the Queen Mother's husband?"

He grimaced slightly and replied, "Indeed he is, but the issue of the succession and the King's marriage to Queen Alyssane created some strife between my brother and him. Even my goodsister was not very happy with Rogar for his actions."

"But surely the King knows that Lord Rogar is one of his lealest supporters. The Stormlands supported Jaehaerys when no one else was willing."

The Knight had a fury befitting his house words in his eyes as he replied, "Aye, and the ungrateful cunts in King's Landing could not care less. With Jaehaerys spending most of his time preceding his majority at Dragonstone, my brother was the one who held the realm together, and that has created his fair share of enemies. The King would do well to remember that the Baratheons are his closest allies and friends, not to mention our bonds of blood. And yet the King and Queen Mother do nothing even as the vultures in the capital circle my brother."

I nodded solemnly and decided not to push my luck, the knight might be drunk and had definitely said more than he should have, but if I pressed further it could potentially cause offence. "So what do you think of the new whisky?"

Fury forgotten, he gave me a great toothy smile before downing a mug of it and spoke with a slight slur, "This new silver label stuff is even better than the other."

I couldn't hold back the laughter and raised my own mug to my lips. The feast had been a worry on my mind for quite some time and it was turning out to be more than pleasant. My worries about entertaining lords of higher status had been unfounded. It seemed I could only hope relations with them remained cordial in the future.

I turned away from the spaced-out drunk Baratheon and cast my gaze across the hall, watching the happy revellers engaging in conversation and, thankfully, not yet fighting with each other in true Stormlander fashion. The lords looked to be happy enough and I relaxed, soon enough my thoughts turned to the events yet to come and I grimaced. I could only hope my new wife wouldn't take my reticence as an insult.

With a sigh I leaned back in my chair and smiled at Elena, she returned one of her own. I was obviously nervous. Tradition dictated that I consummate the marriage tonight. But the very thought made my stomach churn. I tried my best to make my smile reassuring and charming but as Ser Morden would inform me later, it appeared more similar to a painful rictus than anything else.

Hoping to distract me from my impending doom, I rose from my seat and approached the table comprising the Errol's. Edwell was drinking and making merry with his father, Lord Adam Errol.

Edwell had spoken of his father frequently, describing him as a good man and Lord who cared for his family and people. And that did seem to be the case. I had met the man when he had arrived and had invited him and his family to dine with me a couple of nights ago. It had been a pleasant dinner and we had discussed much the trade between our lands. With me purchasing significant amounts of stone from the Errols in recent times, alongside the fodder, fruit and tin that was also purchased regularly from their lands, I was one of Haystack Hall's primary trading partners.

Lord Adam was a shrewd and intelligent man. A fountain of information regarding trade, agriculture and politics, it was quite evident that Edwell had inherited his father's intellect. We had spent much time talking about trade and had come up with new ideas for how to increase cooperation between our lands. With my land's agricultural produce increasing substantially ever since I had implemented the four-field crop rotation, I was now a major exporter of food and grain. If Eastwood and Haystack Hall cooperated well enough, we could theoretically reduce the Stormlands' reliance on the Riverlands and the Reach for food within a few years.

We had agreed on much and I had even brought up the proposal of building a road between Eastwood and Haystack Hall which Lord Errol had stated he would consider upon his return. As I reached the Errol table, I was met with a cheer as the men gathered raised their glasses to greet me.

"Aelon! My friend! Where have you been hiding this wondrous concoction from us? I had thought that the Eastwood Whisky was a revelation two years ago, but now, this might just be the nectar of the Gods themselves," said Edwell referring to the cup of Silver Label in his hand.

"I am glad you like it, Ed. The Silver Label takes longer to make and so I have had to keep it away from you lest you drink it all. For your father's sake I can't have you drinking away all of my finest whisky and beggaring Haystack Hall in the process," I responded as the entire table laughed heartily. Edwell laughed along merrily as he proceeded to pour me a drink of my own.

Lord Adam on the other hand smirked and replied, "I must say Aelon, Edwell would not be alone in drinking away your stores. This Silver Label is truly divine. How many barrels can you spare for me to take back to Haystack Hall."

"Around five and ten barrels at the most, my Lord. And that also only because you are a most valued ally. The Silver Label takes time to make and there are only so many ready for sale at the moment." I responded. I currently had nearly a hundred and fifty barrels in storage.

I drank with the Errols for a few minutes before moving on to the remaining guests. Several Nobles of the Stormlands were present at the wedding. I spent time with Gulian Swann, heir to Stonehelm and Evan Connington who was Lord Connington's second son.

Another person I really wanted to make connections with was Elena's cousin, Corwyn Velaryon, son of Daemon Velaryon and possible father to Corlys "Sea Snake" Velaryon. Through my marriage to Elena, I was now tied to the Velaryons, whose star was about to rise with Daemon soon to be appointed Hand.

As I approached the table where he was seated, Corwyn rose to greet me, "Lord Aelon, my heartiest congratulations on your marriage to Elena."

"Thank you Ser, I hope that you and your household are enjoying the festivities?" I enquired politely. The man was drinking but did not seem to be tipsy. I did not want to appear to be too inquisitive but this was frankly the only opportunity I would have in the near future to better understand the politics of the capital. More importantly, it was perhaps my only opportunity to figure out if my presence had had any sort of butterfly effect on the Game of Thrones so far.

"Very much so, Lord Eastwood. I did not expect to see such prosperity in lands which were without a Lord for so many years, but it is clear that you have accomplished much in the past few years."

"You are most gracious good Ser," I responded leaving an opening for him to continue speaking.

"I must say that I have not been the greatest fan of Eastwood Whisky. Some members of the Court do drink it but I always found it a little too bitter for my liking. But this Silver Label is quite something and I may just take a few barrels back with me to Driftmark," He continued as I had hoped.

"I am glad to hear that Ser. I shall ask my steward to speak to you before you leave to make the arrangements. I must ask you though my Lord, how fares the situation in King's Landing? We rarely hear anything of court here in my lands and I am curious about the King. They say that he is wise beyond his years and rides a massive bronze dragon," I said, trying to be subtle and hiding any knowledge that may seem out of place for a bastard lordling to possess.

"He is indeed wise Lord Aelon. Gods willing he shall be the greatest of all the Kings that Westeros has seen. My father tells me that while he is undoubtedly the Blood of the Dragon, he is also a just man who listens to the counsel of his advisors." He said, no doubt implying that his father was one of the said advisors.

"The realm needs a great King now more than ever. The wounds inflicted by the Cruel are still fresh in the minds of the people." I stated solemnly hoping that the man would continue speaking.

"I was actually hoping to speak to you about that, my Lord. Is it true that your father truly slew the Darkrobin on the battlefield while defending the Lord Hand?"

"Indeed it is Ser." Now that got my attention. While my father's actions were undoubtedly noteworthy they did not garner enough fame for Ser Corwyn to know about it. Few people wanted to acknowledge that a bastard could defeat a Knight of renown like Ser Robin Darklyn.

"Well then let this be a friendly warning my Lord now that you are my kinsman. With Lord Rogar's influence waning in King's Landing, the Darklyns of Duskendale have been regaining influence in Court. The Lord Hand initially kept the Cruel's loyalists at bay, but the young King is more forgiving and has allowed them to return to the fold. The Darkrobin was Lord Darklyn's uncle and he is quite perturbed that his uncle's slayer was rewarded for his actions and I overheard him ranting about it when he visited King Jaehaerys on Dragonstone with his belated father earlier this year. He may attempt to cause problems for you in the future, my Lord."

And there it was. My first real opponent in Westeros. I would have to tread carefully if I ever visited the Crownlands.

"Thank you, Ser. While it is disturbing that my father is being disparaged for defending his liege, I shall take your words to heart and tread carefully."

I spent the next hour mingling with the various Lords and Knights attending my wedding thanking them for attending while also exchanging pleasantries. I had tried to spend some time with Lord Fell in particular. As one of my neighbours, he was a very important guest, but when I tried to broach the topic of trade, he seemed reticent and I was forced to change the topic.

I even made it a point to spend time with the various knights, officials and merchants in my service so as to make them feel recognised for their loyalty and hard work. Ser Harys had arrived a few days ago and I had spent some time with him as well. He seemed very pleased with his son's progress. Warren in particular was over the moon. His son George was on the verge of being Knighted and his other son Fred was due to leave for Oldtown to train as a Maester in the coming turn of the moon.

As the festivities continued, the feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach seemingly intensified as I glanced over at Elena. I could see that she too was nervous as she stared down at her plate refusing to meet anyone's eyes. I felt a pang of guilt at that. I had been so self-absorbed with my own moral conundrums that I had been unable to see that she too was facing her own problems. She had been married off to a strange lordling who she scarcely knew, who had, in turn, spent the entire wedding ignoring her. I hadn't even danced with her at our own wedding.

Shame and guilt filled me. I stepped up to the dais and reached out to take her hand. Putting on as charming a smile on my face as possible, I said, "Will my Lady grace me with a dance?"

She nodded shyly and we rose and proceeded to the dance floor. As we swayed lightly to the music, I continued to feel deeply discomforted about my situation. But I realised that Elena was just as much a victim of the circumstances as I was. While I would never feel comfortable about our marriage, I would still treat her with respect and kindness.

We danced quietly. Not a word was spoken between us. Many a time I tried to muster the courage to say something but fell short. Not even married for a day and my marriage was already in shambles.

As the festivities came to an end, I heard a few guests call out that it was time for the bedding. Having anticipated this, I had mutually agreed with Lord Tarth that there would be no such thing at my wedding. It was a barbaric practice that had no place in my Keep. I saw out of the corner of my eyes, Sers Morden and Edmund quietly deal with those guests as I made my way to my quarter's hand in hand with Elena.

As I closed the doors to my quarters, I sighed. I would do my duty. I would beget heirs. But the very thought of doing so made my stomach turn.

They said that love was the death of duty. But no one ever mentioned the greater toll that duty levies on a man's soul.