Inside a guest room in Deep Valley City.
Arthur leaned by the window, gazing at the clear sky outside.
His fingers tapped incessantly on the windowsill as he pondered his next move.
Every step was perilous; he had transformed a suicide mission into a journey for power.
He feared that if Lady Roslyn couldn't sleep before due to the wildlings, now she couldn't sleep because of him.
"Hey! Arthur! I got someone to fetch you something good!"
His voice arrived before he did.
Bronn pushed the door open without any formality, his hands fumbling mysteriously in his bosom for something.
A dark crimson family crest was pulled out and handed to Arthur.
"What is this…?" Arthur took it with a hint of disdain.
Arthur's eyes widened; on a dark crimson background, a Black Lion's head with bared fangs was imprinted. The lines of its mane were coarse like thorns, and its gaping maw was outlined unusually wide, almost filling the entire head, revealing four sharp fangs, exuding immense killing intent.
"Much darker than the golden lion, isn't it!" Bronn chuckled, "I paid a hefty price for this! The materials on it are all top-notch!"
In truth, he had only spent half a day crafting it by holding a knife to a Deep Valley City artisan's throat, but that wasn't important!
Bronn extended his hand.
"I didn't ask you to make something like this?" Arthur held the emblem, examining it from side to side. "Besides, in my hometown, if you don't have the aura and destiny, you can't control something like this."
This lion was too ferocious.
It didn't quite match his identity and temperament.
"Are you kidding me?" Bronn's eyes widened as he looked at Arthur. "You piled the heads of those wildlings into a mountain; that's much more terrifying than this lion's head!"
"If you can't control it, no one in this world can."
"Perhaps the flayers of the North would love to befriend you; I really want to lock you two in a room together!"
"And your impoverished hometown has such particularities?"
Bronn had never seen such an evil person; in his opinion, this Black Lion couldn't even highlight Arthur's wickedness.
Arthur's family crest should be a severed head or a mountain of skulls instead.
He had actually piled the heads of the wildlings into a mountain on the edge of High Mountain, to the extent that merchant travelers heading to Deep Valley were all horrified.
Arthur: "..." He looked at the blood-mouthed Black Lion, and the blood-mouthed Black Lion looked at him.
"Knock knock knock!" Lucien walked in from outside, looking strangely at the wide-open door, but still politely knocked on it.
His armor remained on, covered in blood and dust.
"Lord Arthur!" He bowed respectfully.
Arthur nodded, signaling him to rise.
Lucien bent down to report, he too was somewhat shaken.
"Lord Arthur, as per your instructions, all collectible wildling heads, totaling over four hundred, have been piled up!"
"Why did you refuse that widow?" Bronn leaned closer, lowering his voice. "If you ask me, this is an opportunity to legitimately take over her land and wealth."
Arthur looked at him, Lady Rona of Smallwood.
In Westeros, if all members of a family died, their non-blood wife also had the right to inherit the territory.
Lady Rona had made a plea to him: marry her, and her territory would become Arthur's.
The Deep Valley family had lost everything, and a female liege, especially from such a small family, without courage and ability, would be like a lamb to the slaughter, quickly devoured by hungry wolves.
Tall Duncan once met a beautiful red-haired widowed minor liege, Lady Rohanne, in the Reach; she had married at least six times in her life, and even implied far more.
Bronn stroked his dagger and continued, "Marry her. Then let her 'accidentally' die." He thought Arthur was simply disgusted by a woman who had been married before.
"That way, the land of Deep Valley, the military, and all her family's wealth will be yours."
"I can make her die without anyone knowing."
"Falling off a horse, choking on a bone, falling from a window sill."
"As long as you pay!"
"You can choose the death!"
Arthur didn't look at him; having been married was only part of the reason, more importantly, it would cause concerns.
He now had over five hundred soldiers, the soldiers of Deep Valley City, plus the refugees who had moved to Dreadfort before, he could muster nearly seven hundred soldiers.
This was enough to make Lady Roslyn uneasy.
Bronn shrugged, and seeing Arthur didn't respond, he gave a fawning smile:
"Lord Arthur, since you are unwilling, how about you introduce me to Lady Rona?"
"I like her so much!! I'm so greedy for her body!! She'll definitely bear me many children!!"
"Don't worry, once I become the new liege of Deep Valley City, I will definitely follow your lead."
Arthur turned and jokingly scolded, "Are you greedy for her body?! You're clearly greedy for her family's property! You're despicable!"
Then he looked at Lucien: "Go find Lady Rona, I want to see her."
A guest being the master in their home – this was the survival logic of Westeros.
A moment later, a young woman with a tattered dress, red-rimmed eyes, beautiful features, and a tall figure walked in.
In his previous life, Arthur had no female friends, and had never even spoken more than ten sentences to a girl.
So he could only describe the Lady's long legs as very beautiful.
"Lord Suleiman." Lady Rona curtsied to Arthur, her voice a little hoarse.
"Lady, no need for such formality! No need for such formality!" Arthur didn't expect this woman to actually bow to him, and rushed forward to help her up.
Lady Rona did not sit down, but instead bowed deeply again: "If not for the Knight's rescue, Deep Valley City would have long fallen into the hands of the wildlings."
She didn't know what had happened; everything felt like a dream. The city was about to fall, the siege was confessed.
Then, the young man before her suddenly told her that her husband and her husband's father had rushed out and died bravely fighting the wildlings.
"This is why I came, Lady, you exaggerate." Arthur's tone was calm.
Lady Rona raised her head, her gaze directly meeting Arthur's: "I, I, I beg Lord Suleiman, to marry me. I will bear children for you, my Lord, to inherit our land." Her voice trembled.
In her eyes, this young man was undoubtedly the best choice; he had the ability to protect her.
To protect her property, his words were gentle, and most crucially, this young man was quite handsome.
He was undoubtedly the best marriage prospect.
She was just a knight's daughter; her father had long since died, and she had no maternal family to rely on.
She didn't understand the survival rules of Westeros nobility. She knew her own abilities; she might be good at sewing, but when it came to socializing, her voice would tremble.
Without protection, she would die without a burial place.
"I cannot accept, Lady." A hint of surprise flashed in Arthur's eyes, then returned to calm.
He looked at this desperate woman, who was staking everything, with no ripples in his heart.
The last spark in Lady Rona's eyes dimmed. Her lips moved, but she ultimately couldn't speak, covering her face and weeping.
She silently curtsied and retreated, looking distraught.
Bronn watched with great interest from the side, and only after she left did he click his tongue: "Arthur, this is a good thing delivered right to your doorstep."
"Although she's a widow, her looks and figure are quite good, and she comes with a city."
"Do something for me, Bronn!" Arthur said, looking at Lady Rona's retreating back. He wanted to completely control this pitiful woman.
If he were content with being a minor liege, this marriage would undoubtedly be the best choice.
But he was not content! Reborn into this life! Was he still to be content with mediocrity?! Even if it meant death!