Chapter 41: The Supply Agreement

As soon as Samwell finished his bath, he heard a series of footsteps approaching from outside his room. Guessing that it was a servant sent by Lord Brandon to escort him to dinner, he quickly buttoned his clothes. Right on time, he heard a knock at the door.

"Ser Caesar, the Lord has sent me to escort you to the banquet."

Samwell opened the door and, while fastening his last few buttons, smiled at the maid waiting outside.

"Lead the way, please."

He followed the servant down a dim corridor until they arrived at a large oak door with silver inlay.

"Ser, the banquet will start shortly, but you may rest in the lounge until then."

"Alright."

Samwell pushed open the door and entered the room. However, he was immediately struck by the decor in front of him.

Pink curtains, a snow-white wool rug, a luxurious ivory bed, and a delicate vanity.

This wasn't a lounge at all—it was clearly the bedroom of a lady or a noblewoman!

Startled, Samwell turned back to leave, but found that the door had already been locked from the outside.

At that moment, a crisp voice echoed from within the room:

"Well, Ser Caesar, you are quite bold barging into my bedroom like this!"

Only then did Samwell notice a young woman emerging from an inner chamber, eyeing him with an amused expression.

Alice Cuy!

The viscount's daughter was wearing an unusually daring gown, though her figure was so round that it strained the fabric, making her attire appear more awkward than elegant. Her face, round and freckled, was layered with heavy makeup that struggled to conceal the blemishes beneath.

Samwell quickly averted his gaze, keeping his head down.

"Forgive me, Lady Alice. A servant informed me this was a lounge—she must have made a mistake. I'll take my leave now."

"Oh, but don't go! Ser Caesar, I heard from Father that you're a valiant knight who's managed to bring thousands of wildlings to heel! Come, tell me about your adventures!"

Watching her rushing toward him, Samwell realized all too well that this was a trap, set up to force him into a compromising situation!

Blasted Brandon Cuy!

Just because your daughter can't find a suitor doesn't mean you can force a match like this!

Panicking, Samwell summoned all his strength and yanked at the door.

With a loud crack, he broke the latch thanks to his enhanced strength, which had reached 2.73.

The door swung open, and Samwell quickly slipped through, avoiding the young lady's not-so-subtle advances. Just as he exhaled in relief, he nearly collided with a surprised Brandon around the corner!

For a brief moment, the air was thick with tension.

Samwell quickly took the initiative and spoke first:

"My apologies, Lord Cuy. I accidentally damaged the door. I apologize."

Brandon, who had come to "catch them in the act," looked at the fully-dressed Samwell, clearly at a loss. He finally glared at his daughter, as if to say—

How could you let him escape so easily?

Lady Alice, looking hurt and frustrated, huffed and stormed back into her room.

"Ahem, no worries," the Lord said, composing himself. "The door isn't a problem, Ser Caesar. The banquet is about to start. Let's be on our way."

"Certainly."

The two walked side by side, both making a silent agreement to act as if nothing had happened, quickly returning to lighthearted conversation.

"So, Ser Caesar, what brings you to the Arbor?"

"Well, as you know, the Red Mountains are a harsh, barren place. If my territory is to thrive, we'll need to purchase grain and other supplies from outside. My goal on this journey is to secure a supply agreement with House Redwyne."

Brandon gave him a sideways glance, a bit of a smirk in his expression, as if amused by Samwell's naivety.

"Perhaps I should remind you, young knight, that relying on external sources for food and supplies to support a territory can be a very costly endeavor."

Samwell spoke with ease, shrugging off the challenge.

"I understand that, my lord. Luckily, I recently discovered a silver mine in my territory, so…"

"A silver mine?" Brandon's expression shifted from skepticism to envy. "Fortune must truly smile upon you!"

"All thanks to the Seven!" Samwell replied, crossing himself with a seven-pointed star over his chest before falling silent.

As he anticipated, it didn't take long before Brandon couldn't resist probing further.

"Why not avoid the Arbor altogether?" he offered. "Here in Sunhouse, we can supply food and other goods. We're much closer, which means we can save you a significant amount on transport costs."

Samwell smiled inwardly, though he showed a hesitant expression.

"Well, the issue is that I have over ten thousand people to support—and that number is likely to increase. Are you sure you can handle such a demand?"

"Of course!" Brandon said confidently. "The land surrounding Sunflower Hall is incredibly fertile. You're welcome to see it yourself—wheat, vegetables, and orchards as far as the eye can see! I could easily supply not only ten thousand people but up to thirty thousand!"

'So, thirty thousand is your upper limit', Samwell thought as he stroked his chin.

"Alright, let's talk about pricing then…"

"I'll guarantee you a fair price!" Brandon replied, adopting the manner of an eager merchant. "I'll have my steward draft a price list. If you're not satisfied, we can negotiate directly!"

"Well, then, my lord, if you can guarantee a fair price, I'll make Sunhouse my main supplier."

"An excellent decision!"

"But I have a condition," Samwell added, cutting off the viscount's self-congratulatory boasting.

"A condition?"

"You're aware, I assume, that I'll need royal permission to mine the silver I have. I've already sent a messenger to King's Landing for authorization, but that could take time. In addition, the mine needs to be organized, refined, and prepared to mint the silver, which also takes time." Samwell spread his hands in a shrug. "So, I may not be able to pay you right away for these initial supplies. If you're willing to accept a delay in payment, we have a deal."

"A delay?" Brandon's brow furrowed. "How long?"

"Six months."

"Six months?!" Brandon nearly choked. "Absolutely not!"

But after a moment's thought, his eyes glinted, and he softened his tone: "However, if you're willing to marry my daughter, then I'd be open to such an arrangement."

Samwell's lip twitched. 'With your daughter? I'd pass even if you threw in six months of free supplies'.

"I understand your concerns," Samwell said, feigning indifference. "Which is why I didn't bring this up with you in the first place. House Redwyne has deep coffers; a six-month deferment would be a mere trifle for them."

This remark made Brandon grit his teeth. After a long pause, he finally responded:

"Three months, and not a day longer! By then, your silver mine should surely be producing."

"Three months…" Samwell made a show of thinking it over, then nodded with a sigh. "Very well, my lord, three months it is. But I'll need the first shipment of supplies within three days."

"Done!" the Viscount agreed immediately. "We'll draft up the supply list after dinner."

"Good!" Samwell grinned, extending his hand. "To a prosperous partnership!"

"A prosperous partnership!" Brandon shook Samwell's hand with enthusiasm, then gave him a knowing smile. "You're quite the skilled negotiator, Ser Caesar!"

"As are you, my lord," Samwell replied, his smile as broad as ever.

Brandon leaned in, unwilling to give up entirely. "Remember, if you're open to marrying my daughter, I could give you those three months of supplies for free!"

"I'm sorry, my lord," Samwell answered with an earnest look. "But I swore an oath to myself—no marriage until I've truly built my own lands."

Brandon could only sigh and drop the matter.

(End of Chapter)