The Northern Tyrant [Game of Thrones] Chapter 29 - Big Spending, Inventions & Maiden’s Call

Note: Another Tyrant chapter will drop tomorrow. The high-tier exclusive one for this month.

Doc - https://docs.google.com/document/d/1viiVPLqSwaxMkhSW40raMangnb4inEai4o40Hpg0DOI/edit?usp=sharing

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The next morning, Wylis woke up early to start the day. He was in his primary bedchamber with Lyanna, having left Rhaella once she was asleep. He still felt very much at home with his northern she-wolf. She knew his deepest secrets, and she trusted him blindly. 

Without disturbing his gorgeous wife, he leaned his face at the water basin. Yet another reminder that he needed to start working on the plumbing system. With Earthbending, hiding pipes was too easy. But making the said pipes first needed some mass production capabilities. 

But let's deal with him first.

Wylis donned a simple lordly attire with a cape and headed out. With two guards riding behind him, he arrived at the largest and most respectable resthouse in the city. It was prepared to house special guests. 

He honestly wanted Brandon with him. But the man was still asleep. So now, he hoped his titles, such as the Northern Sword and Tyrant's Games, and Quest Savior of House Manderly's reward would help. 

In moments, he was welcomed inside the resthouse by the servants. It was nothing special. Just a simple building, a two-story house that was painted, polished, and furnished with new carpets, beds, and furniture. It also had two servants managing it. 

Quickly, he was guided into the sizable sitting area near a warm hearth. He took a seat and waited for the fifth vice harbor master to arrive. 

There, he just looked at the interior, wondering what he could do to improve. He hated the fact that he had to do everything. But the initial stage was meant to be the hardest. He wasn’t cold-starting an old engine, but creating a new one entirely. It would take some time before he'd have enough craftsmen to make him whatever he wanted. 

Best to focus on increasing the population first. 

The easiest job that any of the smallfolk could do was construction. He was kickstarting the grand construction of the castle wall, then the city wall, and then the city itself; he was sure it'd invite plenty of men and women. 

Should start digging out treasures as well. 

Another fact was that he really didn't have any big income source. While all the treasure he dug from King's Landing, his Harrenhal winnings, and raiding Rhaegar's secret stash would keep him afloat, it wasn't enough to fund everything he had planned. 

"You're very early, my Lord."

Wylis didn't stand up. There was no reason for him to coddle someone. If anything, he wanted to see how all his titles and Quest rewards worked on people. His lies should be more believable. He was supposed to enjoy greater influence across the North. 

"Aye, if I don’t lead by the light of dawn, I’ve no right to ask it of my men," Wylis replied and waited for the harbor master to take a seat. He didn't know anything about him but his name, Morgan. 

Finally, Wylis took out a folded letter from his coat and handed it over. "This is for Lord Manderly to read."

"I'll ensure it reaches him."

"Good. Tell me then, are you aware of what Lord Manderly said in that letter you handed me yesterday?"

"Aye, I did."

"So the terms written there… are they what I must agree to if I’m to have the ships?"

Morgan frowned, shaking his head subtly. “Begging your pardon, my Lord. I’ve no word of that. I’m but a messenger, come to see the sale made proper. The talk of betrothal and squireship lies between yourself and Lord Mandery.”

"Very well. Then I’ll take it the letter has naught to do with the sale of the ships. When Lord Manderly was here, I asked to buy eight large cogs, three three-masted carracks, and ten more cogs to lease."

"Aye, I'm aware, my Lord," Morgan said and grabbed the booklet he'd brought along. "Lord Manderly was keen to see you well served. Soon as he returned, he called us together to make a full tally. He chose each ship himself. As it stands, we’ve only five large cogs for sale. Another five will be ready within two moons, and you may have three of those if you wish. We’ve one new carrack, seized from a merchant who failed his debts. The other two are older, but sound good enough. For those you mean to lease, there’s plenty to choose from. You might take an entire merchant fleet if you wish. Their sailors sail well together, though the cost runs somewhat higher than individual leashed ships."

Wylis made some mental calculations while nodding. 

He was willing to spend a substantial amount of money on a fleet of his own. The short-term profit-driven plan he had in mind for quick gold needed speed and scale. Hiring an entire merchant fleet made sense as he'd spend less on training the men. And if he didn't need them later, he could just find another merchant fleet. He wouldn't need to, as he planned to expand his personal fleet constantly. 

If Tyrant's Squire was hungry, he was going to feed it. 

"Aye, that sounds fair, harbor master. Let’s settle the price, then. And I’d speak with those merchant fleets as well. Any with more than ten ships, send my way." Wylis concluded and started to negotiate the price. He sucked at it and almost bought a haggling mastery from the shop. But he held back; he had better, more important things to purchase. 

Being a top-tier spoiled billionaire in his past life, haggling wasn't his best talent. But what he did know was how to spoil other men into giving him a good deal. Just a hint dropped to Morgan, telling him that he'd get a commission for any ship he brought over for sale, and instantly, the man willingly offered better prices. 

In the end, the total bill came to slightly over seventeen thousand Gold Dragons. An insane amount, and also Wylis's biggest purchase. But he had over a hundred thousand, and this investment alone was going to bring him tens of thousands once his plans took shape. 

No money changed hands at that point, however. Morgan would have to bring a small fleet of ships with a war galley or two to escort the chest of gold. Also, money would only be transferred once Wylis had seen and inspected each ship. 

With that, he walked with Morgan to the docks where the merman-flagged ship awaited. 

"More ships to purchase?" Morgan exclaimed, amused. "I see, my Lord has a large appetite."

"Just like my neighbor," Wylis joked. 

"Hah! Aye, true that." Morgan chuckled and pondered deeply. “You might try your luck with House Redwyn. They’ve the greatest fleet in the realm: near two hundred warships, and a thousand merchant carracks besides. Wine cogs, trading galleys, even whalers. A fearsome count, that.”

And Tyrant's Squire wants me to beat that. That's one tall order. 

"Aye, I’ll give it a try. But I’ve no great hopes for it. House Redwyn stood with the Targaryens, and I dealt quite the damage to them. If they still hold a grudge, they won’t be eager to lend a hand."

"If they’re keen to leave their past behind, they’ll lend their aid readily, my Lord."

"That’s why it’s worth finding them at least once."

Finally, they arrived at the ship that Morgan had arrived on. 

"I’ll listen for word of any ship in need of a new master, my Lord."

"I'll wait to hear word of it." Wylis waved and left since moving a ship out of the docks wasn't a quick thing. And it was awkward just standing there. 

Instead, Wylis went into town, passed by some smallfolk who merrily waved at him. He then arrived at a house with its doors open. He walked inside and saw a wet nurse. He spoke with the woman and then entered a room with a closed door. 

"Anna."

He called for her. The woman was on the bed, tucked under warm blankets, with two babies tightly by her side, her arms wrapped around them. 

"My Lord!"

"Stay in bed." Wylis approached her bedside and softly caressed her hair. Having children with noblewomen was different from smallfolk. Nobles had an entire lineup of maids to aid them, but smallfolk didn't. He was glad he had called her and the other women to Ramsgate for this. 

More than that, he was shocked by how Anna carried two of his kids, both boys. She was a rather short woman, even shorter than Lyanna. And she'd given birth to two very solid babies. Both were identical twins, boys, and even their life point status was the same. 

[Strength - 4/10
Dexterity - 1/10
Intelligence - 1/10
Charisma - 4/10
Vitality - 2/10]

Both of them had the same numbers. And this was just the proof of how fertile and birth-ready smallfolk women were. Unlike noblewomen, who were pampered since birth. 

Quickly, Wylis distributed the points to the boys. He kept them identical since they were going to grow that way. It was best if they were evenly matched so they wouldn't fight each other. 

[Strength - 4+2/10
Dexterity - 1+2/10
Intelligence - 1+1/10
Charisma - 4+2/10
Vitality - 2+3/10]

He gave more points to Vitality because they were going to be raised by Anna. While he was going to foot the bill for food, health, and education, they would still be raised outside the castle. Hence, better Vitality would help. Charisma didn't need any explanation. Dexterity helped them learn things faster, and Strength… he already saw the two lads growing to be tall and overpowered. 

Could prove to be trusted knights at Magnus' side. Or something else. No child of mine will be forced into a career.

"Have you named them?" he asked. 

Anna smiled fondly and nodded. "I apologize, I named them without seeking you."

"Nothing to be sorry for, Anna. You’ve given me two fine sons. Their names are yours to choose."

"Alric and Alden, that's what I named them."

"Alric and Alden, fine names," he muttered under his breath, remembering them. “We should fasten a colored thread to their little ankles so we can tell one from the other.”

Anna chuckled. "Just what I was wondering, my Lord. I can already imagine them tricking their mother."

Wylis laughed and sat beside her, giving her the attention she deserved. He didn't know how she saw him. But he knew her past; A young window. Now she was a mother without a husband. He couldn't be there for her all the time. But he wanted to ensure she was never going to be alone in her life's journey. 

Her sons were destined for greatness. And he was going to be there to guide them. 

####

White Harbor,

"Ha! Just as I thought he would!" Lord Manderly said with a booming laugh, his belly shaking. He laid the letter down with a smile. "That’s a true Northerner for you. Careful as a cat in snow, and twice as cautious."

"What did he say?" asked Wylis Manderly, the father of Wynafryd. 

“Ha! Said he’s no trouble with his boy wedding my Wyna. But he won’t press the matter by tying them early. Says he’ll foster the lad at White Harbor once he’s grown enough. If the two take a liking to each other, then he’ll give his blessing with a smile.”

Wylis Manderly nodded softly, feeding himself as his father. "He struck me as a careful one."

"Good for us. We don't have a fool as our neighbor. He knows how far to reach, when to reach, and when to stand back. Lad's got a bright future ahead." 

That was it. They didn't even discuss the matter of ships. The two things were never tied to each other. In a way, it was Lord Manderly's test, where he had nothing to lose, no matter what Wylis would have chosen. 

####

Ting!

[Trueborns & Bastards Triggered!]

That was the eleventh time in a week the ping had chimed. Since he'd impregnated all those women in a single giant orgy, their delivery times weren't that spread apart either. And since none had any complications or premature birth, they all gave him healthy lads. 

Lads, yes. Every single one of the women gave him sons. They were pretty, robust, with good vitality. No accidents where he had to urgently deploy life points. 

Why am I more prone to having sons? 

Putting that thought to the back of his mind, he visited the women. Not all of them were in Ramsgate, however. A bit ashamed, he'd gone a bit wild that time in Stoney Sept, and a few women he did that night were married. 

They couldn't just leave everything and move to Ramsgate. Heck, other than Anna, only two more women had chosen to stay. All the others either had husbands or other kids back in Stoney Sept. 

Wylis didn't stop them. Nor did he try to buy their loyalty with gold. What they had given him was literal life. For that, he offered them financial aid to set up their trade, a shop, or anything they desired. And he'd commission them or trade through them soon enough. 

It was best to create a giant ecosystem where all the women he slept with benefited in some way. It would leave nobody sour and perhaps… they'd be happy to give him a few more kids. 

But beyond that, the best part was the 6 years he netted in that whole week. It warmed his heart to see his lifespan increase from 53 years to 59 years. Sadly, it was destined to go down again. 

In his solar, all alone at night, he opened the store page in Tyrant's Squire and started to scroll through it. It seemingly worked on intent as he quickly found what he was looking for in that endless list that seemingly had infinite pages to scroll through. 

With so many things to do. So much to plan. He wanted better strategy ability. Ability to plan industrialization in a phased manner. For that, he made a purchase. 

[Business Management and Strategy Mastery - 2 Year]

After that, he focused on the ability that would let him earn the most coin in the shortest time. 

[Deep Sea Exploration Mastery - 1 Year]

[Diving Mastery - 6 Months]

[Treasure Hunting Mastery - 1 Year]

Beyond that, there was also Banking Mastery that he wanted to buy. It would let him open and run a bank in ways the Braavosi Iron Bank would vomit blood. But he didn't have enough gold to enter that industry yet, so he postponed it. Perhaps once he'd have enough gold reserves and Lannister gold mining deals done, he would. 

What he did buy in the end was not something he was keen on, but circumstances had forced him. He used to be the top dog back in his old life. He didn’t need to use politics. But now, with the Boltons scheming and more, he had to. 

[Politics Mastery - 2 Years]

Fucking expensive. But holy Sun Tzu Machiavelli! 

Concepts and ideas appeared in his head that he didn't even know existed. Using gold to destabilize the market in a particular region to ruin the rulers. To use propaganda and sway the smallfolk, strip the enemy lands of all able hands. 

I can do all that. 

Also, he realized a mistake. Yes, Ramsgate will one day be overpowered. But the Northern Houses won't necessarily be happy about it. He needed them to see him as an ally they can't offend or afford to lose. He needed to become so important to their little economies that they'd raise their blades to defend him even at the cost of their own lives. 

A trading partner like no one else. What he needed wasn't just military might but deep ties with other houses. 

Maybe Brandon can help me with this one. Didn't he and Barbary have a fling? She's widowed again and… she can lead me to House Ryswell, and they have some fine mares for Caliburn.

A plan started to form in his head. 

But for now, it was night, and he chose to visit the gorgeous Ashara Dayne. He was really curious why only she gave him a daughter.

Also got that hot spring to work on. So much to do, dammit. 

####

There were eleven villages in the Ramsgate fief. In total, they had a population of 4218. Ramsgate wasn't even barely successful. The people were poor. They survived on farming and some other types of barter. They used the wood around them and hunted wild animals for food. 

But the search for greener pastures was always there. Young or old, everyone hoped for a better life. Everyone sought a more comfortable life. More coins, actual coins, and not some barter. 

So when the crier passed by the villages, all ears were perked up. There was work in Ramsgate town. The new lord had taken on a grand project that needed thousands of hands. A magnificent wall and the town's expansion. 

Simple work, one-time meal, and actual coin as payment. It was enough of a promise to leave homes. So, many young men and older men who could work left their homes to their wives' care. They didn't cultivate much, but the houses still needed some care. 

And so began the not-so-great migration of Ramsgate. 

####

The high stone walls around his castle were coming out strong. Tall, robust, and quite decent to look at. It wasn't as fast as he wanted; he could've made them in a single night. But still, hundreds of people found work due to it.

He also cheated here and there. Going out in the dark of the night to lift the wall a few stones so there was less for the smallfolk to do. Besides, he had already worked on the foundation of the wall, so the work was greatly reduced. He just came up with some bullshit that the original Ramsgate had planned to have this wall, hence the foundation.

As the walls were coming up, he worked on the personal hot spring and made it private with some plants. A little paradise in the struggling fief of Ramsgate. After that, he went to the dungeons, inside his own little workshop, and started working on a very simple, yet revolutionary machine. 

All he needed were a few gears, flat surfaces, some specially crafted metal frames and, of course, paper and ink. None of it was hard to make for Wylis. But for Westeros and the entire world, it was a revolutionary thing. 

"M-M-My L-Lord… This!"

Qyburn fell to his knees to worship the machine. 

Too dramatic? Wylis eyed the ex-Maester. 

“If such a wonder had graced the Citadel, my years as an acolyte wouldn’t have been wasted copying dust and rot!” Qyburn cried, his eyes wild with fury and awe. “My Lord, never grant this divine marvel to them. Let them rot in their ignorance as they made me do!”

"..."

Wylis was half expecting Qyburn to ask him to send it to the Citadel. But clearly, the old man held some grudges. 

"I’ve no plans to. This invention will stay secret until my house and lands are strong enough to stand on their own. The Citadel and the Faith won’t take kindly to it once they see how easily anyone can reach for knowledge and books."

"Indeed, my Lord. I expected as much. They delight in their own cleverness, hoarding knowledge as a serpent coils round its hoard. In truth, they are serpents still. But, if I may ask, my Lord... what use do you intend for such a thing?"

"I told you that I wish to build a school for greater knowledge. It's impossible to do that if we don't have books to fill the libraries. These machines are fast; a single man can use his foot to turn it, and his hands to feed it paper. In mere days, a few of these machines can compile dozens of books of the same content and quality." Wylis walked over to the machine and showed him how it worked. 

"Typesetting takes time. I'll find a standardized way to produce them as well."

"Typesetting, my lord?"

"Come here, I'll show you."

Wylis spent an hour or so talking to his curious ex-maester. The old man tried to use the machine himself and fell in love with it. It was so simple, yet ingenious. Just some gears, metal frames, ink, and paper. The repeating motion made sure you didn't need to put ink every time. One only had to keep it running with a foot pedal and feed it paper. 

Slow, but it was progress. 

Next, Wylis wanted to work on soap as he expected it to sell well. He had too many trees, so paper was also a lucrative industry. And finally, perfumes would bring in decent returns. But all that required standardized measurements first. 

But for the day, Wylis was done. He made rounds outside to check the progress on the wall, and then returned to the castle, searching for his lovely wife. But she wasn't in the solar, bedchamber, or in any other room. 

When he did find her, she was on the terrace of the castle, alone, holding a bow. She was using the wall of one of the larger towers as target practice, having hung some wooden bullseye. She looked focused, ready to let the arrow loose. 

But Wylis snuck behind her and wrapped his big arms around her soft frame. Shamelessly, his hands both gripped her breasts, fondling them. His lips dotted kisses on her neck. 

Lyanna's giggle rang instantly, and her hips pushed back. "Good to know I still make you hard."

"Woman, the day you can't rouse me, I'd no longer be a virile man."

She laughed even louder, lowered the bow, let it fall, and then turned around in his arms to look up at him. "And what does my strong, virile man want from me?"

Wylis shifted his arms low behind her and gripped her ass over her coat. "What any loving husband wants."

"And what is that?"

Wylis grinned and leaned his face low, a mere inch away. "A little feast. Right here and now."

"Oh? I'm to be feasted—ah!"

Wylis clenched her ass hard and really lifted her, his palms supporting her bottom. Next thing they knew, they were furiously kissing, holding no shame back, just drowning in each other's breath, tongues coiling. 

Lyanna was short and light in his arms despite the perfect softness she'd gained after childbirth. And to Wylis, it meant more to squeeze and fondle. His palms never stopped groping her round ass. 

"Ummmh… Wylis." Lyanna broke the kiss suddenly, a mischief on her lips. "Be patient if you want a true feast. Sunset, at the hot spring."

Wylis mused. He hadn't done anything sexual in the hot spring yet. And he very much wanted to try it. The warmth of the water and the warmth of Lyanna's gorgeous body. It really was worth the wait. 

"That doesn't mean I can't do this…"

So he went back to kissing her, walked all the way to the nearby tower's wall, and smushed her between himself and the wall. He kissed her lunges out, leaving her lips red and swollen. He really was fucking passionate with Lyanna. 

"That's… enough… or I won't be able to control it myself," Lyanna warned him, panting. 

Wylis made a sad face, pecked her lips, and placed her down. After that, he grabbed the bow she was using and had a friendly competition of arrow shooting with his wife. He won, of course, his mastery was at its peak.

But Lyanna wasn't far behind, missing the bullseye just once. But they were shooting from a rather close range. In a real battle, Wylis was no different from a sniper as long as he had the proper bow. 

After his little passionate moment with her, he went downstairs and resumed working, awaiting the sunset with much excitement. 

####

Viserys Targaryen was furious. 

He refused to accept that he was nothing anymore. He refused to accept that his birthright, his throne, was stolen from him. He refused to accept that a Baratheon would rule the realm. 

He hated the fact that his own mother had seemingly given up on reclaiming the throne even more. All she ever did was sing praises of the large brute, the very man who killed his elder brother, her own son, and his father, her own royal husband. 

"How could she?"

Bam!

He struck his blunt sword into the wall, taking out his anger. 

"How could she?"

He kept striking like a madman, never stopping. Not even as his breath became hasty. 

"Why would she?!"

Other than saving them from Dragonstone, the brute had done nothing for him or his mother. He was forced to be bald, locked inside that castle. His mother was about to give birth to a sister. Yes, she was certain it was going to be a girl just because the brute told her so. 

"Foolish! Foolish! So fooli—Who?!"

He jumped and turned at the sound of the heavy footsteps. 

"Who’s foolish?"

Viserys gulped; the tall brute eclipsed him like a stallion to a kitten. He lowered his blunt sword quickly, teeth clenched. "N-Nobody."

"Rhaella?" 

Viserys flinched. He cursed himself for it. It was as good as nodding. 

"So your mother’s a fool for being alone, heavy with child, with no men and no coin? Tell me, do you truly wish her to take up a sword and ride for King’s Landing? And when she gets there, what then? Ask Robert Baratheon to hand her the throne?"

"No, but—" 

“Is your mother a fool for fearing for her son and the child she carries? Do you hold the throne above your own life? If that’s so, have you the strength to claim it? Speak, boy.”

"N-No… I don't have the strength."

"Neither does she. Come here and sit. Best you learn of it now, before it’s too late."

Frowning still, Viserys eyed the giant, moved to a stone bench, and sat down. He hesitated, but he couldn't refuse the tall creature.

"Tell me, how did Aegon the Conqueror take over the Seven Kingdoms?"

"With his dragons."

"Do you have any dragons?" 

Viserys lowered his gaze and shook his head. "We don't."

"Tell me, were there no Seven Kingdoms? Kings before Aegon's arrival?"

"There were."

“You know that, yet you still fail to grasp the game of thrones. The Targaryens ruled because they could summon fire from the skies. When your foolish ancestors slew the last dragon in their quarrel, they stripped their house of its might. Tell me, then, why did the Seven Kingdoms still let them sit on the throne?”

Viserys thought about it for a while, seeking an answer. But when all failed, he shook his head. He was still too young to fully understand the complexities. Yet, only eight, the boy was still remarkably sharp.

"Have you ever seen a herd of sheep, Viserys?"

Viserys nodded.

"House Targaryen was the sheep at the front of the herd. Wherever it went, the rest followed. But then another sheep dared to move in a different direction, and unsurprisingly, a majority of the sheep followed that second one. Without dragons, the Targaryens were reduced to sheep; they were just at the front. Now, in today's time, it matters not who the sheep at the front is, the rest will just follow because that way, the Seven Kingdoms remain united, in name, at least."

"I… don't understand." Viserys frowned. 

“Convenience, that’s what it was, Viserys. The throne’s not the true power now, only a notion that holds the realm together. The Targaryens were kept after the dragons died because folks were used to you ruling. But when that comfort turned sour, they chose another arse for the seat. Rebellions don’t spring from gossip, Viserys. Your father set fire to many lords, right before you, did he not?"

He nodded. 

“And then you thought the families of those same lords would bend the knee to you? Why would they? You burned all their loyalty the moment those green fires took their kin. Your father tried to play the dragon, yet he had none to his name. He let his own delusions of grandeur fool him, and he paid the ultimate price. They say he was once a good man, but that man’s long gone. He failed the realm, failed his wife, and failed you.”

"What did he do to mother?" Viserys asked. 

"Before I answer that. Do you love your mother, Viserys?" 

Viserys frowned, wondering why that was being asked. He loved her the most, of course. She was all he had now. The only person he could go to when sad or even angry. Even before all this, he was the closest to her. 

"I do."

"Do you love your mother to the point of doing anything for her safety?"

"Yes! I would!" Viserys stated rapidly.

"Then answer me this. What if it were your own father who hurt her? Would you stand by and let it happen? What if he made her do things that shamed her? What if he caused her deep pain? Would you still say your father was a good man?"

Viserys glared up at the brute, seeking lies. But the brute's confident gaze shook him. 

He looked away and pondered over the words. He was young, but not a fool. He'd seen his mother being particularly sad on some days. Days that usually followed his father's visit to her chambers. 

"W-Why? What did father do?"

“As I told you, Viserys, he was a good man once. But something broke in him. He lost his wits, lost his hold on himself. Your poor mother he… bit your mother, cut her, clawed her, hit her, wounded her, and laughed. The Kingsguard heard her cries, but they stood fast. Their vows bound them to guard the Queen, yet not from the King.”

"Lies! You're lying! Another game of yours!"

“When you see Rhaella again, keep your tongue. Words will only wound her more. Just take her hand and look along her arms, from wrist to elbow. You’ll see old scars there, left by your father’s nails. Her body carries more wounds than you can count, and some deep within. That woman… the castle you dream of taking was her prison, her hell.”

"You're lying!" Viserys shouted and jumped to his feet. "I won't be fooled!"

He chose not to listen anymore and ran through the castle corridors. He knew the way by now and rushed straight to his mother's bedchambers on the first floor. He didn't bother to knock and just pushed it open, only to find his mother sitting by the open window, warm sunlight coming in. She had a knitting kit in her hands, making something, humming to some song, and… a beautiful, warm smile on her lips. 

Viserys tried to remember when he last saw her smiling like that before. The answer was never. 

"Mother!" He cried and ran straight towards her, falling to his knees beside her legs, his other half leaning on her lap. 

"What happened, Viserys?"

The concern in her voice choked Viserys. He looked up at her face, no longer that sickly pale. Then he felt her hand caress his cheek, and that was his cue. He snuggled his face into her palm, gripped her wrist, and slid the sleeve back. His eyes looked without the head moving and…

There it was. The scars the brute had mentioned. He wailed more and took a peek under her other sleeve as well, finding similar scars. 

That was when real tears started to well up in his eyes. He'd never known that his mother was suffering like that, wounded by his father. It didn't make sense to him. Why would his father do that? But the proof was undeniable. 

"Mama!" He wailed into her lap, angry, frustrated, and sad. "I… I'll protect you! I promise!"

"I know you will, dear."

Her voice was soothing and gentle. To his little, eight-year-old heart, it was the warmest. The only family he ever knew. And yet he was so unaware of her pain. 

He wailed for a long time in her arms and continuously promised that he would protect her. 

####

Ramsgate, sunset,

Might have gone a little overboard with the kid.

But it was also necessary. He'd picked his words carefully and avoided mentioning words like rape. No matter how much he disliked the kid, he was still only eight. Some day, when he'd be old enough, he'd connect the dots behind those scars on his mother and his father's brutality.

For now, Wylis was happy that he had given the boy another dose of reality. And to celebrate that, he wore simple clothes, a loose tunic and trousers, and headed towards the private hot spring, holding a bunch of towels with him. 

In anticipation of the exciting evening, his palms were sweaty, his knees were fast, his balls heavy. He kept reminding himself on the way why he loved Lyanna so much. The woman really knows how to match his mood and still take it up a notch. 

Quickly, he was out in the backyard and walked towards the hot spring. He'd already separated it from the real spring, where the water was too warm. In the new pool, just for bathing, the water was just right. Surrounded by stones, and then some bamboo walls, some greenery, the sunset view unrestricted, it was heaven and…

What the… 

It really was heaven. 

"He's here."

Wylis just stood there, watching, admiring, hard as a rock. His eyes blinked, but the view was etched in his memory. The red sheen of the setting sun. The sound of the water. The hot steam and, in all that, two of the realm's most beautiful women. 

"He's frozen, hah!" 

"That was your surprise?” Wylis asked, eyeing Lyanna, and then, "You knew, Ashara?"

Truth be told, he couldn't stop staring at their faces and their breasts that were above the water. With both of them nude and side by side, it was hard not to compare, and god dammit, he loved both. 

Ashara chuckled sultrily. "I did."

Wylis gulped and stared. Lyanna was more pale, like a Northerner, her stature short, breasts tight, a bit smaller than Ashara, who had a bit more tanned body, tall in general, dark, long hair, breathtaking violet eyes, and larger breasts with a hint of sag. 

"Won't you join us, dear husband?" Lyanna winked from the water. 

Wylis licked his lips and quite literally ripped his clothes apart, tunic and trousers both. Then, he jumped into the water and scooped both women by their waists, engulfing them in a big, warm hug, squeezing them against his chest. 

His larger frame meant he had enough chest to feel both their complete warmth and… softness. 

Before long, all three tongues tangled in a messy, breathless knot. Lyanna’s sharp and demanding, Ashara’s slow and molten, Wylis the anchor in the middle. 

Lips slid from mouth to mouth, teeth nipping, chins dripping with shared spit and spring water. 

When Lyanna’s tongue curled around his, her hips rolled instinctively, grinding her slick seam along his thigh; Ashara answered by sealing her mouth over the corner of his, sucking his lower lip until it throbbed, her long fingers threading into his wet hair.

His wide palms groped their asses under the water, and their lips alternated. He kissed Lyanna first, his entire tongue overloading her senses. Plunging deep, curling against the roof of her mouth, dragging out a muffled whine that vibrated straight to his balls. Her back arched; water sloshed as she tried to climb him, thighs clenching around his hips. 

He broke away only when she started panting against his lips and turned to Ashara. 

The Dornish woman met him halfway, mouth already open, tongue sliding along his in a slow, filthy swirl. She moaned into him, one hand braced on his shoulder, the other slipping beneath the water to cup the heavy weight of his sack, rolling it gently as their kiss turned sloppy.

Once Ashara was breathless too, cheeks flushed darker than the sunset, he stopped kissing, but still kept them close. His arms banded around their waists, pinning them to his chest so their slick breasts slid together with every breath. 

As he sat near the edge of the hot spring, he rested his back on the stones and spread his legs straight over the submerged floor. The two ladies straddled his thighs each, their hot cores flat on his thick muscles. 

Lyanna settled on his left, her smaller frame fitting snugly, the slick lips of her cunt parting over the hard ridge of his muscles; Ashara took the right, longer legs folding gracefully, her fuller hips rocking once to seat herself so the swollen hood of her clit dragged deliciously along his skin.

They smirked, and each placed one hand into the water, the one closest to his cock. Both biting their lips and teasing him with their needy, thirsty look. 

Lyanna’s grip was firm, twisting up the shaft with a milkmaid’s deft fingers; Ashara’s was slower, thumb circling the flared crown, tracing the tiny, sensitive slit. They leaned in to peck kisses on his neck, his jaw, the corner of his mouth with little nips and giggles.

This is heaven. He truly felt that. 

The sunset beautifully bled crimson across the sky, and two perfect feminine petals pulsed against his thighs while clever hands worshiped his cock.

"When did you both plan this?" he asked.

Lyanna smirked and eyed her partner in crime, who looked more shy than mischievous, lashes fluttering against flushed cheeks. “We were just talking yesterday about how you’ll handle all of us. That’s when I asked her, ‘Does he truly have to come to us one by one, and only at night?’ She said she didn’t think so. And, well, talk turned to trouble, and trouble turned into a rule. In the bedchamber, it’s just you and me—or you and her—one woman. But out here, or anywhere else… a few of us might share one very lucky, very big boy.”

What did I do to deserve this woman? Probably dying once. 

"A rule I'd wholeheartedly follow." He replied and attacked Lyanna suddenly, sinking his torso lower into the water, his hands circled her thigh and tickled her core, same for Ashara. 

His thick fingers parted Lyanna’s folds with practiced ease, the pad of one thumb circling her clit while two others speared inside. Ashara received the same pleasure, rough knuckles grazing her entrance before plunging deep, curling to stroke that spot that made her spine arc.

“Oh!” Lyanna yelped, the sound sharp and startled.

“Mmmh!” Ashara moaned, vibrating through the water.

The two women moaned and arched backward, water cascading off their breasts as they braced their hands on his shoulders. 

Wylis felt greedy for more and quickly latched his lips on Lyanna’s breasts first. None of them lactated anymore, but gods, they were so soft and full still. Pale mounds flushed pink from the heat, nipples tight as pebbles. He sucked one deep, tongue lashing the peak, teeth grazing just enough to sting.

“Oh Gods… Fuck!” Lyanna moaned loudly, not holding back; a throaty cry that belonged in a brothel, not a lady’s throat. Her hands were everywhere, rubbing through his wet hair, nails scraping his scalp, grabbing his ear, and tugging hard enough to make him growl against her skin. 

Under the water, his finger slid deeper into her pussy, curling to stroke the slick walls that clenched greedily around his digits. She rode the intrusion shamelessly, hips rolling, water sloshing in frantic waves.

“Mmmmh! Oh, Wylis!” Ashara sang in pleasure, feeling his rough fingers plunging into her folds. The sudden stretch burned sweetly. She shuddered, thighs clamping around his wrist as his thumb ground her clit in tight, merciless circles. 

When he switched to suckling her breasts, mouth hot and wet on the heavier weight of her Dornish curves, she wailed in bliss. His tongue traced the faint blue veins beneath tanned skin, teeth tugging her button until it stood proud and aching.

The difference was clear. Lyanna was a wild lover, hips bucking, voice shattering into broken curses, nails raking red lines down his neck. Ashara was more delicate, her hands caressing his hair with reverent strokes, the hand under the water softly clenching his cock, squeezing in time with every thrust of his fingers inside her.

Wylis flicked Ashara's pale brown nipple with his slithering tongue. Two of his fingers slid between her welcoming petals, stretching her open with a demand that made her thighs tremble. 

“Ohhh… Yes… Take me, my Lord,” Her walls fluttered around his calloused digits, slick and scalding, drawing him deeper.

However, as he felt both women were near completion, their thighs trembling, bodies tight, he stopped and stood up in the water completely to his full height. 

Lyanna and Ashara sank to their knees in the shallow pool, water lapping at their curving waists, and his cock, swung heavily between them. The swollen tip hovered inches from their faces. He towered over them; their delicate features looked almost fragile beneath the shadow of his shaft, and the difference alone sent a dark, hungry thrill straight to his balls.

Their faces were full of mischief, and without a moment wasted, they scooted closer to him and attacked him from two sides, laying soft kisses across his length. 

Lyanna’s smaller mouth pressed to the left, lips barely spanning half the girth; Ashara’s fuller lips claimed the right, stretching wide to accommodate the same ridge. The contrast was obscene, his wife’s pale Northern skin against the Dornish bronze of his lover, both dwarfed by the same enormous cock that had ruined them for any other man.

He loved this view more than the sunset. Ashara and Lyanna on their knees, sunset painting their curving backs in molten gold. From above, their breasts swayed with every eager lean, nipples grazing the surface of the water and sending ripples outward. His hands settled gently on their heads, thumbs stroking damp hair. Two of the realm’s once most desired beauties worshiping at his cock.

“Ummmmm.” Lyanna pecked his length with hungry kisses. She dragged her tongue along a pulsing vein, leaving a gleaming trail.

His log of a cock stood erect, dwarfing their adorable mouths. As they kissed, their nostrils flattened against his flesh, hot exhales ghosting over the sensitive, wet skin.

Then they started to lick him sideways, from swollen tip to heavy base. Lyanna lapped upward in quick, kittenish flicks; Ashara countered with long, languid strokes that curled around the underside. They moved in perfect sync, tongues meeting at the ridge, trading sides, painting every inch until his cock gleamed like polished steel.

Ashara’s slender hand wrapped around the base, fingers still not meeting. She started to stroke in slow, twisting pulls. 

Lyanna took the chance, sealed her lips over the flared crown and sucked hard, throat working to swallow the first thick inches. 

Slurp! Gluck! 

She gagged softly when his cockhead nudged the back of her throat, eyes watering, but refused to retreat. Drool spilled over her bottom lip, mixing with the spring. 

Ashara’s dainty grip glided through the slick, pumping what Lyanna couldn’t take. Her lips trailed soft kisses on his abs, tongue tracing the deep valleys between muscles, then lower to his thighs. She nuzzled his balls with soft, pouty kisses, teasing the small seam with feather-light licks that made his sack draw tight. 

Each suckle from Lyanna sent sparks up his spine, each lick from Ashara curled his toes; he wanted to bury himself in their warmth and never resurface.

Look at them, Wylis thought, gaze raking over the scene. My she-wolf and my violet rose. I love them… both of them.

Shlk! Slurp! Gluk! Mmmph—shhlck! 

The sounds filled the air. The wet suction, the choked breaths, the rhythmic sounds of that dusky fist gliding through spit. 

Lyanna’s throat fluttered around him with every shallow bob; Ashara’s tongue traced lazy circles on his balls between kisses.

Then, Ashara looked up, eyes sparkling with amusement, lips shiny. “Enjoying it, my Lord?”

Wylis sucked in a ragged breath, hips twitching. “Feels like I’m being loved by angels.”

Lyanna giggled, pulling off with a wet pop, a silver strand still connecting her lip to his crown. “Oh, us poor angels, about to be ruined by this big, beautiful brute.”

Ashara quickly took Lyanna’s place, sliding her mouth down the slick shaft with a throaty moan. Her lips stretched thin, cheeks hollowing as she suckled the swollen flesh. Her tongue swirling the ridge. 

Lyanna dropped lower, stroking the base with both of her small hands. She took one heavy orb between her lips as well and rolled her tongue around it. Fierce, almost feral, sucking hard enough to make his knees buckle. 

The contrast drove him mad. Ashara’s slow, worshipful glide above, Lyanna’s savage devotion below.

Lyanna’s storm-grey eyes stayed locked on his, gleaming with mischief and pride. A look that said ‘Do you like my surprise, husband?’, as if she’d orchestrated every filthy second.

Yes, he fucking loved it. The depravity of it all sent molten heat pooling in his groin. His balls tightened, drawn up by Lyanna’s relentless tongue.

“Ugh! I’m close!” Wylis warned. His hand shifted to Ashara’s damp hair without thinking, guiding her gently, barely an inch deeper, but enough to feel her throat flutter around his eager cock. His hips rolled in shallow, instinctive thrusts, chasing the edge.

Lyanna sat there on her knees, water swirling around her dough-like thighs, watching Ashara’s violet eyes water as the Dornish woman’s lips stretched to their limit, throat bulging around the thick intrusion.

“There…”

Wylis’s hips jerked once, twice. His cock pulsed like a war drum, and the first heavy rope of cream flooded Ashara’s throat. 

“Ghk!” She choked, eyes flying wide, and yanked back with a wet gasp. Thick strands of white painted her tongue, her chin, the swell of her lower lip before she could swallow.

“Let me!” Lyanna lunged forward like a starving thing, sealing her mouth over the still-spurting crown. 

Lyanna sucked hard, cheeks hollowing, tongue probing the tiny opening to coax out every drop. Her dainty hands churned the shaft in frantic twists, milking him dry. Bubbles of seed and spit frothed at the corners of her lips as she moaned around the mouthful. Greedy, shameless, she refused to let a single pearl fall into the water.

Ashara finally stopped coughing, throat working, and crawled back on her knees. Lyanna relinquished the tip, and Ashara dove in to lap the last lazy pulses. Her tongue curled delicately, gathering every smear until his cock gleamed clean and slick, twitching half-hard in the cooling air, freed.

“It’s too addictive!” Wylis groaned, the sudden chill on his wet shaft making him shudder. 

He stared down at the two beauties and felt the beast stir again. But favors had to be returned.

“Both of you… Get up and sit on the edge, feet in the water, ass on the stones.” His strong hands lifted them easily; water rolling off their magnificent curves as they climbed. They settled side by side on the warm rock ledge, thighs parted, cunts flushed and glistening. Lyanna’s neat pink folds, Ashara’s pale tanned, fuller petals already slick with need; both eagerly waiting for him.

As she was his wife, he went for Lyanna first. Saying nothing, he shifted closer on his knees in the water, spreading her soft legs wide. Their eyes locked.

Lyanna bit her lower lip, smiling like a newlywed on her wedding night, fingers tracing the hard line of his jaw. “Gods, I’ll never get tired of this look.”

His lips started at her inner thigh, trembling under the scratch of his beard. Inch by inch, he kissed higher, tongue leaving wet trails, until his mouth sealed over her cunt. 

“Ummh–Ohhh!” Lyanna leaned back on her palms, head falling, a broken moan spilling free. 

The sound of his tongue lapping her folds echoed off the stones, lewd and intoxicating. He sucked her clit between his lips, flicking it mercilessly, then flattened his tongue to stroke her from entrance to hood in one long, possessive lick.

Meanwhile, his left arm snaked sideways; his middle finger slid into Ashara’s pussy, curling deep, pumping slow and steady. She gasped, hips rolling to meet the intrusion.

Both women leaned back, backs arched, breasts thrust high, toes curling over the edge in the water. The spring whispered around Wylis’s shoulders as he devoured Lyanna like a mad lover, tongue fucking into her, nose buried in her scent.

“Oh Gods, yes! Lock your mouth to my cunt and throw away the keys!” Lyanna screamed, voice cracking into wild giggles. Her thighs clamped around his ears, hips bucking against his face, chasing that tongue of his for more.

Finally, Lyanna shattered. Her whole body seized, a sharp cry tore from her throat as she gushed over his tongue. “Ooohh Fuucc—!”

Wylis lapped every drop, relentless. His free hand shot up to twist a cherry-rose nipple, rolling it between rough fingers until she sobbed with overstimulation, trembling uncontrollably, thighs shaking like leaves in a storm.

Once she sagged, panting, he shifted. 

Rising to his full height, he turned to Ashara, kissing the elegant column of her neck, teeth grazing, sucking dark blossoms into tanned skin. Lower and lower, wet, open-mouthed kisses over the heavy sway of her breasts, tongue circling a nipple until it peaked hard and aching. He traced the soft curve of her belly, tasting salt and steam, then dropped to his knees again. Her violet eyes met his; he spread her thighs wide and buried his face between them.

His tongue went wild, spearing into her slick heat, lapping the velvet walls that clenched around him. Ashara’s pussy was a furnace, scalding, leaking her juices. The taste of her flooded his mouth like spice. He sucked her swollen clit until her belly undulated in waves.

“My Lord… Oh Gods---your tongue, it’s—ah! So deep, so good—don’t stop, please!” Ashara wailed in desperate sobs. Her hands fisted in his hair, pulling him closer.

Wylis’s other hand never left Lyanna, two thick fingers plunging into her tight cunt, keeping her wet and open, thumb circling her clit in lazy figure-eights.

Ashara saw Lyanna’s eyes were closed, lips parted in bliss, utterly unafraid. She trusts him, Ashara realized, the thought shattering her last restraint. Trusts him to devour them both and still come home to her. The realization tipped her over. Her belly rippled; her legs started shivering uncontrollably. 

Wylis pinched her nipple hard and twisted, and she spilled with a broken cry, gushing hot and sweet over his tongue. He drank her down to the last drop, licking through the aftershocks until her thighs clamped around his head and she begged in breathless whispers.

When Wylis finally pulled back, his beard dripped, his grin feral. Water and slick coated his chin; the sunset painted him in blood and gold. 

He rose, sliding two fingers into Lyanna, two into Ashara, pumping slow and deep. Their moans rose in perfect, filthy harmony. Two sirens singing for the same god.

"So, ready for the best part?" He asked.

"Gaaaaah! C-Can't wait… to feel you… stretch me…" Lyanna moaned.

Ashara nodded. "Mmmh… I'd love to… feel that."

What an awesome surprise—

Ting!

Hmm? New quest?

By now, Wylis knew that quests usually arose when he'd already initiated an action or was about to. He'd fucked many women, and sex-related quests were rare or non-existent.

What the fuck?

The blue screen hovered before his eyes. 

[New Main Quest - Maiden's Conqueror
Description - The Rebellion has ended, but the old maggots still roam. Bring House Mooton of Maidenpool to heel.
Rewards - New Title, Fame, Hidden Targaryen Treasure Chest]

Maidenpool? Why? What did they do? 

Quickly, he tried to remember the treasure locations he received as a reward, and there was indeed some Valyrian steel in Maidenpool. But it was impossible to know how much. If it was a whole Targaryen chest, then… it was interesting. 

Also, the title was 'Main Quest,' which meant it was a significant step for him. Unlike side quests, Main Quests usually last longer and require more travel, fighting, and planning. 

"Ehm… my lord?"

All of a sudden, a third female voice came out of nowhere. He woke up from the stupor, and so did the two stunning ladies. 

"Ah! Lady El…!" Ashara yelped and jumped into the water to hide herself, blushing in shame. 

Lyanna didn't give a damn; she remained seated, even moaning as Wylis' fingers continued to move. And clearly, Lyanna noticed Elia's gaze as she smirked and puffed out her soft breasts. 

This woman. 

Wylis chuckled, not much bothered by the nudity. His cock was hidden in the water anyway. Though he was amused by Elia's blushing face, focused solely on Lyanna's cunt where he slid his fingers. 

"I fear you'll have to wait a little before using the spring, my lady," Wylis said, letting Ashara hide behind him. 

Elia straightened her back and finally looked at Wylis, her blush only intensifying. "I… The maids were forbidden to come, so… I had to. An urgent raven arrived from King’s Landing, marked by the king and the hand. And another from Riverrun, with Lord Hoster Tully’s seal."

Ah, so that's where the quest came from. The hell happened now? 

"And?" He asked, still fucking Lyanna with his fingers. 

"It's the king's raven to your name, only you can read it."

"Do you have it?"

"Maester Qyburn has it."

Wylis sighed and looked at Lyanna. The northern she-wolf also sighed and sat up straight. She scooted closer to him, legs spread around his frame. Then, she dotted kisses all over his wet face and then his lips. 

"The spring isn’t running off anywhere, my beautiful brute. And neither am I. Nor Ashara. Isn’t that right, Ashara?"

"Uh… Yes."

Lyanna was clearly teasing the Dornish woman. It appeared Ashara felt conscious about intimacy in Elia's presence. 

Wylis chuckled, his hands giving a few last squeezes to Lyanna's soft waist. He hated leaving midway. He was raging hard and honestly, horny as fuck. But duty called. If it was worthy of a Main Quest, then it had to be something big. 

"Aye then, I’ll give up my evening’s peace." Wylis moved with a sigh and rose from the water without caring to hide anything. A little part of him wanted to see Elia's reaction and… he wasn't disappointed. 

Elia Martell's jaw fell, her big Dornish eyes locked on his fat, throbbing, raging hard, dangling cock, the purple head plush and polished. She even backstepped when Wylis walked closer, her gulp noticeable. 

Love seeing their first impressions. 

Wylis chuckled and walked faster, and then past Elia to grab a towel from the stone slab. He tied it around his waist since he'd torn his clothes. 

"Let us go then, Myra."

"Yes!"

Being called by her fake name, Elia stirred from the blushing stupor and silently followed behind Wylis.