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"Your Highness, is this sentence truly fair?"
The sun shone brightly, showing no hint of the coming winter. Clouds, like layered fish scales, drifted across the sky, casting a warm glow upon the castle.
"Is a human life not worth fifty gold dragons, Alliser Thorne?"
Gilbert remained silent, but Cole knew the answer in his heart.
"Even though Earl Heywood Fell proved his innocence, he died in his room," Cole stated. "What's more, an additional ten gold dragons were paid from the castle as compensation to the merchant. His daughter was killed within the Stormlands, which was also a failure on my part as a lord."
Gilbert nodded. "Your Highness, the world will surely praise your generosity and kindness."
After the merchant's supposed witness was brought forward, he denied ever seeing the deceased, claiming he had drunk heavily that day. Unable to preside over such a one-sided trial, Cole was ultimately forced to make this verdict.
In the afternoon, Cole again addressed the issue of wildling harassment, brought forth by Cersei Hope, in the hall. He promised to dispatch a team of cavalry to investigate the situation. In truth, Cole had been strategizing for days on how to resolve the problem of the free folk in the Kingswood. While he held a certain appeal among them, relying solely on this to curb their behavior would only work in the short term, inevitably leading to conflict over time.
To truly solve the problem, he had to address its root cause. The mountain tribes' tendency to raid might stem from historical grievances and customs, but the most significant factors were likely food and land.
Cole had now provided them with a place to live, hoping that solving their material needs would ease the tension between the free folk and the people of the Stormlands. He was preparing a caravan to trade with the free folk in the Kingswood, exchanging food, cloth, and wine for their furs.
At the same time, he planned to build a market in the Kingswood to encourage them to trade there. While force offered the quickest solution, it was by no means the best. The Wall could repel countless wildling attacks, but it could never truly solve the wildling problem. Of course, the Wall's purpose extended far beyond merely stopping wildlings.
By evening, he had not managed to attend to many state affairs. Cole sat alone in his study, gazing out the window at the sea cliffs. The setting sun was fading, and shadows were beginning to cover the earth.
Late every night, a wave of loneliness would wash over him, a feeling that had intensified significantly since his return from the Wall. Humans are creatures of emotion, and Cole was no ghoul; he naturally had his own feelings.
Bang! A sharp sound interrupted his thoughts. Cole turned to see a maid, who was cleaning the room, hastily picking up scattered candlesticks, ignoring the burns on her hands. Seeing him turn, she immediately knelt, her voice trembling with tears as she begged for mercy, "I'm so sorry, sir, I... I didn't mean to."
Cole shook his head and helped her up. "Everyone makes mistakes, and you've paid the price. There's no need to blame yourself." Looking at her burned hands, he added, "Go and wash your hands with clean water. Soak them for a while."
The girl nodded timidly, regretting her lack of focus. Yet, those melancholic blue-purple eyes, even in a fleeting glance, had already left her deeply saddened and heartbroken. After the maid left, this small incident calmed his mind, and he returned to focusing on the affairs of Storm's End.
He disliked dining at the long table, but it was a duty he had to fulfill. Several seats at tonight's dinner were empty. These belonged to Earl Heywood Fell and the knights of Fallenwood, perhaps out of dissatisfaction with his judgment.
A servant stood by, holding a copper basin filled with water. Cole gently washed his hands, dried them with a silk scarf, and then announced the start of dinner.
The chef had stewed an entire lamb with potatoes, and slices of lamb, along with a bowl of thick soup, were served on each plate.
"Your Highness." While Cole was focused on cutting the stewed mutton with his knife and fork, Gilbert suddenly spoke. "We failed to find the merchant in the city."
Cole's brows furrowed.
Gilbert continued, "He was seen boarding a merchant ship."
"Then let this matter be closed," Cole replied.
The dinner was not a cheerful affair. From the prince to the lords, the castle seemed to mirror the solemnity of war.
After the meal, Cole handed a letter to Maester Pylos, asking him to send it to Sunspear by raven. At the same time, he invited Davos to his study. The Onion Knight, much like Cole, found the castle's governance challenging.
No one had ever truly taught them how to manage a castle and a territory. Before Stannis's death, he had entrusted the castle's affairs to both of them. Although Cole had always taken the lead, he would still seek Davos's advice and ideas before making decisions.
"Given the current reputation of the free folk, I fear merchants will be hesitant to trade with them," Davos advised after Cole explained his idea of trading with the mountain clans.
"That's why I plan to form my own caravan, escorted by the guard for now. Do you have any good candidates to recommend?" Cole replied. A caravan was a valuable asset for nobles, and establishing one for House Julius would bring significant profit to the castle.
The Onion Knight nodded. He understood that to ensure the stability of his territory, he had to confront the issue of the wildlings. "I have only dealt with Lady Val in the castle and know very little about the free folk.
However, I know that merchants are driven by profit. If they can gain enough from trading with the free folk, someone will surely be willing to do it." Davos paused for a few seconds before adding, "It's much like smuggling."
Cole's plan seemed well-formed, and Davos couldn't find any clear flaws. Besides, establishing a caravan as a trial run wouldn't cost much.
Davos enjoyed interacting with all sorts of people in the town, gathering rumors and news from them. People praised the prince's bravery and chivalry, but they also lamented how the war had ravaged their homes beyond recognition. People yearned for peace, but peace was not theirs to decide. All actions at Storm's End seemed to be in preparation for war.
"I am going to ask an old friend to serve as the Master of Coin at Storm's End," Cole said suddenly. He had the right to appoint such a position, but he still felt it was proper to inform his prime minister.
Before leaving, Davos asked about Princess Shireen, as he always did. Cole had no news of his so-called fiancée either. He could only hope that Duran would bring her back safely from the North.
Cole was accustomed to staying up late. When he returned to his room, the castle had fallen silent. Occasionally, he could hear the distant barks of dogs. The guards had followed him outside but were ordered by him to rest. He opened the door and had just sat on the bed when a sudden unease swept over him.
Moonlight streamed through the window, casting a cold, shimmering light.