The Northern Tyrant [Game of Thrones] Chapter 23 - Tyrant’s Fief & Ramsgate

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Old Town, 

"It's from Wylis?" Lyanna exclaimed as she received the raven from Qyburn. 

Ashara shifted closer to Lyanna's side to peek at it. "Finally. I was growing anxious."

Right away, Lyanna unrolled the paper and read it. Her lips curved into a beautiful, big smile by the very first few words. 

[As Lord Wylis Kaiser of Ramsgate, I invite my beautiful ladies to pay a guarded escort some fat coins and begin the journey. I shall be waiting with my halls decorated to welcome—With love, Wylis.]

“He did it!” Lyanna cried, her hands trembling. “He is a lord now, Ashara. Truly, he did it!”

Lyanna felt pride swell in her chest, having seen Wylis go from nothing to having so much. Having seen him grunt and frown while working in the stables. Training swords with her secretly. Their first kiss. Their first night. Him becoming a knight. Being the one who had loved him from the time when he had nothing, the feeling was ethereal. It felt like she herself became a lord. 

Even Ashara smiled ear to ear, feeling proud and excited. She, too, had fallen for the seven-foot warrior in the tourney. He was just a stableboy at that time. And now, she felt no regrets. "But why Ramsgate?"

While Ashara didn't know about Wylis' secret powers, Lyanna did. And having lived with her big, beloved brute for years, she understood him best. 

"It’s tucked away, and there’s a port. You know Wylis, Ashara. Trade will be on his mind as much as anything else. We both know he's as much a man of brains as brawns," Lyanna explained. "Come, let’s get ready. Oldtown is a marvel, but I’m growing sick of the Starry Sept’s bells."

"As am I," Qyburn added, sighing. "I have much to learn from Lord Wylis."

####

Crownlands, 

Alone, Wylis left the city. Sacks tied to his horse, carrying scraps of Valyrian steel, pouches filled with gold, and one golden dragon egg. He still hadn't taken all the gold treasure he'd found; it was too much to carry on a single horse.

But he didn't rush to the North, and instead traveled at a slow pace, waiting for the sky to go dark. 

Once he was sure that nobody was following him, he took the road towards Rosby. That let him travel east, adjacent to King's Landing. But there was Blackwater Bay to deal with. Thankfully, the waves were gentle that night. 

Near midnight, he went to the shore and paddled a stolen boat into Blackwater Bay. It wasn't safe to row around like that at night, especially when the destination was the Red Keep. The castle's base was surrounded by large rocks, and the only safe spot was the cave's entrance. 

It wasn't a full moon either, so it was pretty dark. 

Still, he knew the general direction. Following the Red Keep's many torches as guidance, he knew where that cave was. 

In truth, Wylis had pondered over his actions many times now. He questioned why he was doing so much to save Elia? Why was he inviting so much headache when he already had Lyanna and soon Rhaella to deal with? Elia was an unknown card that he didn't know how it would play. Heck, at least he had an emotional connection with Rhaella and understood her. He had no clue about Elia's mindset. What if she decided to fight for the throne again?

But then he reminded himself. He was doing it for the little ones. Maybe it would have been better if Elia had died. Heck, maybe he should’ve let her die. Sadly, Amory Lorch would have done far worse to her before killing, which was too much. 

I gotta get strong enough to not give a shit. 

At last, he reached the cave opening. 

Splash!

He jumped into the water and pulled the boat over the shore before walking into the cave. He grabbed a torch and lit it on fire after ensuring there was nobody nearby. 

It didn't take long to find the wall of the secret chamber he had created. 

Knock! Knock!

"Elia, it Wylis." He warned her, no longer bothering to call her Grace this or that. "Get away from the wall. I'll break it."

He waited a few seconds before using Earthbending to shatter the wall. He made it look like it crumbled, instead of just opening up. 

Right away, his torch's light shone over their faces. They had changed into the clothes he'd given them before. Little Aegon was now bald, Elia had cut her hair short like a man's, and Rhaenys was left as is. All jewelry was removed. 

I guess she made up her mind. 

"So, what will it be? Me or Dorne?" He plainly asked. He really hoped it wouldn't be Dorne. Escorting her there would be a massive pain in the ass. 

"I only wish to live, to see them grow," Elia said softly, tears gathering. "I’ll go with you, Wylis."

Wylis said nothing and just nodded. 

He stepped aside, giving them room to walk out of the secret chamber. He made them walk ahead of himself and destroyed any traces of the secret chamber using Earthbending. 

He let them get into the boat first and then pushed it back into the water. 

From there, he rowed the same way he had come. Back to the little shore camp he had set where Caliburn was also hitched. 

At the shore, he jumped into the water and dragged the boat. He moved fast, lifted Rhaenys out of the boat, and then helped Elia as she also held the little babe. 

"We won't stop here. King's Landing is busy, but the rest isn't," Wylis said, leading them to Caliburn. Beside him stood another horse, smaller and gentler. “Lady Elia, you shall ride this one. Rhaenys will sit with me. By dawn, we’ll reach Duskendale, and from there take a ship to White Harbor.”

The caramel-skinned Dornish woman nodded and obeyed his directions. No longer wearing a royal gown, but rather trousers and a robe above, proper for a Northern expedition, she climbed the horse with ease. Then she made a harness to hold baby Aegon to her chest. 

Finally, Wylis got on his mighty steed, as giant as he was. He made the excited little girl sit in front of himself and tied a strip of cloth around them both to ensure she wouldn't fall even if she were to fall asleep. 

"Let's move."

In the dark of the night, he resumed his journey. 

Sure, there was risk. But by now, the entire realm had received ravens detailing Elia Martell's death, blamed on King Aerys. The plot to burn King's Landing was also made public, detailing how much wildfire was placed under the city. Wylis was proclaimed the hero by Robert for stopping the Mad King. At the same time, the incident gave more legitimacy and cause to Robert's rebellion.

Now, even if someone were to recognise him and ask who the woman and children were, he could simply sigh and confess to siring bastards. Little Aegon was believable, but Rhaenys was too old to make it make sense. Still, Wylis wouldn't let them ask more questions. They'd just have to believe him.

It was a boring ride. There weren't even bandits to spice things up a little. Just gentle-paced trotting until they reached Duskendale right before sunrise. 

The town was significant, large, spread out around its harbor, and was guarded by strong walls. The seat of House Rykker was the Dun Fort castle, a large castle that overlooked the town and its harbor. 

Thankfully, the entry to the castle and town were separate. While the town's gates were guarded, Wylis was far too recognizable to be stopped. A few words from him, the size of his horse, and the length of his sword did enough. He tossed them a silver coin each and crossed. They didn't even bother looking at Elia's hooded face, too focused on bootlicking Wylis.

While he could have stayed at the Seven Swords Inn there and waited for sunrise, he chose to board the ship right away.

Not as grand and important as King's Landing, but Duskendale's port was still busy. Finding a ship headed to White Harbor wasn't hard, as it was the largest city in the North. 

The captain of the ship, a resident of White Harbor itself, even refused to take coin from Wylis. Ever since Wylis had won the tourney, beaten the Prince, he'd become famous. And whatever happened afterwards, winning every single battle in rebellion, killing Rhaegar, and killing King Aerys—all elevated Wylis' name to a legend in the North. He was the source of pride to the smallfolk of the North. A living example of a lowborn rising to the epitome of society. 

Wylis still gave two silver stags to the man and occupied a small cabin on the ship. 

Since it was predominantly a cargo ship, the cabins weren't designed for luxury or space. Sure, they were often used to transport people, but lodging was never the focus. Heck, getting a bed was already a luxury, all thanks to his fame and lordly status. 

And since Wylis was selling the whole ‘they're my bastard's’ tale, asking for another cabin was a bad idea. 

But he was no sexual fiend or schemer. He respected Elia's boundaries and barely ever rested in the cabin. Being such a large man, there was no way they could all sleep together without pressing into one another. 

He spent the entire daytime on the deck, talking with the captain, sailors, or other travelers. He was the only noble on the ship. Other times he practiced with his sword, each time earning plenty of audience. Watching him swing that massive blade that even dwarfed men was entertaining. 

But at night, he had to enter the cabin to rest. 

While Rhaenys was always excited, Elia wasn't. He would lie down and fall asleep. But Elia would only sit with her back against the wall the whole time, only sleeping during the day when he wouldn't be there. 

Wylis didn't mind the distrust and the walls she'd built around herself. He was the man who ended the Targaryen dynasty and placed the new King on the throne. He imagined her mind was filled with doubts, questions about her decision to even trust him. The very man she should hate. 

But it was alright. 

He was doing it for himself. To feel better about himself. To not start his lordly career with aiding infanticide.

####

King's Landing, Red Keep,

Robert Baratheon, crown on his head, paced back and forth in front of his throne. His eyes red in fury, his fists clenched. He rambled every now and then, cursing the Targaryens, their ancestors. 

"Everything. They ripped it all from me! Gods, what sin have I done to deserve this? Lyanna… sweet Lyanna… gone. They burned her, didn’t they?" Robert cried, surprisingly revealing genuine pain. "Wildfire, that’s what they used, isn’t it? Wylis told me, that the Mad King wanted to sacrifice him for some ritual. They did the same to her, I know it. Just as they did to Elia, to her babes."

Not far from Robert, Eddard and Brandon stood, heads low. But while Eddard's eyes were genuinely moist, Brandon was finding it hard to gather the damn tears in his eyes. After all, he knew what kind of bastard Wylis was. Like hell that man would let Lyanna die. And after learning that Eddard only found a burnt, destroyed castle with Lyanna's bones, Brandon knew Wylis was behind it. Just as Elia and her kids. 

He kept his mouth shut. One, as much as he liked Robert, he didn't want Lyanna to end up with him. Second, he had no reason to hate Wylis or his actions. The man had already avenged his father and House Stark. If anything, he was grateful.

Heck, he was more troubled by the thought of discussing the matters about his future with Eddard, the new Lord of Winterfell. 

"Seven hells!" Robert bellowed, his voice cracking. "I need a drink!" 

With that, the King left, stomping his feet as he went. 

That left Eddard and Brandon alone. 

Brandon turned to look at his younger brother curiously. Everything depended on Eddard's reaction to his survival. 

"It is good to see you, Brother." Eddard suddenly hugged him.

Brandon was speechless for a moment. As far as he could tell, Eddard was the silent type who never revealed his emotions. But he wasn't one to push him away. He hugged back, patting Eddard's back. 

"We've bled enough, Ned," Brandon said, sighing. "Finish what you must, then go back to Winterfell."

Eddard broke the embrace and looked up at Brandon's face. "I never sought this lordship. Now that you’ve returned, it belongs with you."

Brandon chuckled wryly, shaking his head. He grabbed his younger brother by the shoulders. "Father’s gone, Ned, but what he set in motion is not so easily undone. Lordship is tied to the woman who bore you a son. If you give up Winterfell, House Stark loses Tully's support. Catelyn won’t thank you for it, nor will I. I’ll not bring grief to you or her. I’ve spoken with Robert. In time, I’ll carve out a Stark branch of my own somewhere else. Till then, I’ll drink and laugh with our giant Kingmaker."

With a frown, Eddard tried to read his brother's face. To see if the words were genuine. They were.

"Catelyn’s a fine woman, Ned. Too fine for the likes of me. I’d have given her grief, and she’d have endured it. But you, you’re steady, you’re honorable. A good match. Let her be happy as Lady of Winterfell." Brandon gave a half-smile as he turned away. "I’ll come around often enough, see my nephew and the litter you’re sure to give her."

"Winterfell will always be your home," Eddard said sharply. "You don't have to stay away."

"But I mean to. Strange, is it not, to live under the same roof with the woman once promised to me? To watch her give my brother sons that might have been mine." Brandon snorted when he said that, not liking the idea. "Come on then. Let’s find our brooding King. Mourning a girl who gave him nothing but a glance, nor spent a day at his side."

Eddard frowned there for a moment, finding it strange how his brother was so calm, despite being the more doting one on Lyanna than he ever was.

####

The Three Sisters,

The ship was passing the islands known as the Three Sisters, just a few hours away from reaching White Harbor. The voyage had lasted a whole ten days, three more than expected due to a storm they had to wait out. 

It was night, and Wylis found himself facing an awkward situation. While he'd broken some ice with Elia through regular talks, exchanging stories with Rhaenys, and a general show of respect. It was far from something that should have led to this moment. 

Perhaps it was a mere mistake, but… he was only a human, after all. He could control his mind with absolute perfection, but his… groin? That had a mind of its own. 

Probably a mistake. 

He told himself that. But the more he thought about it, the less sense it made. There was no reason for him to be sleeping in the middle while Rhaenys and Aegon slept to his left and Elia on his right. She rested her head on his arm near the shoulder, almost hugging his frame from that side. Her breath was audible from that close. Her tender bust was smushed against him, so noticeable that he could feel the firm tips on his skin.

And her leg… was folded over his now stone-hard, throbbing cock. 

Mentally, he thought of nothing. Didn't even hope for something to happen. But the erection was a natural reaction of a twenty-year-old, horny, battle-hardened man's body.

It's nothing.

In the end, he closed his eyes. With baby Aegon throwing tantrums during the day, he imagined the struggle must be draining. He let the woman rest if she found it in that position. 

In the meantime, he started to plan for his future. He had hours to kill and started to scroll through the shop tab in Tyrant's squire. He once again looked at the Fire Immunity, Dragon Whisperer skills, costing sixty and one hundred twenty years.

Sighing, he moved on. He had years to decide on that. If Rhaenys and Aegon grew up to be truly trustworthy and loving, he'd think about it. Or maybe… He could have a kid with Rhaella, which would at least guarantee loyalty. 

Gotta build the damn foundation first though. 

Ting!

He did a bit of shopping to prepare for his future. 

Ting!

[Civil Engineering - 3 Years]

Ting!

[Shipbuilding Mastery - 1 Year]

After that, he pondered deeply about a few more skills. One was a package of medical knowledge, from medicine to surgery. However, to truly benefit from it, he'd need extremely specialized tools, and that'll require blacksmith mastery. And to truly benefit from medicine, it'd require chemistry mastery. He didn't find any pharmacy skills, so he hoped it was included in medicine. 

Making a safe place for all the women to give birth is a priority. 

Ting!

[Medicine To Surgery Package - 5 Years]

[Blacksmith Mastery - 1 Year]

[Chemistry Mastery - 1 Year]

Ugh… Fuck! Forgot to… do it slowly! 

He gritted his teeth as the stinging pain coursed through his brain. All the knowledge started appearing as if he always possessed it. It wasn't just knowledge but mastery of it. He felt he could transplant a whole heart if he had all the instruments. He could make the finest sword in existence. He could make chemicals. 

It was a fucking cheat. 

But Wylis ignored that imposter syndrome, reminding himself that he did work hard for this. 

But he didn't stop there and continued to spend his lifespan. He had fourteen children on the way. Soon, he'd have more with his castle taking its final form. With Lyanna, Ashara, and Wenda moving in. 

Ting!

[Economics Mastery - 1 Year]

He bought it even though he ran a pharmaceutical empire in his past life. He was the boss there and had a whole ass building full of analysts, accountants, and business experts to work for him. Here, he was alone, and he needed the in-depth knowledge. 

Ting!

[Plumbing Mastery - 6 Months]

Ting!

[Mechanical Engineering - 3 Years]

He bought it for the final purchase. It seemed like an excessive purchase, but Wylis believed he'd be able to invent things with it. Better carriages, better tools, and features for his home. Ease of life things. Even add some advanced features to the ships he wanted to build. Everything was connected. 

The list was truly endless. There were other types of mastery as well. Electrical Engineering and Computer Engineering. But they were useless to him. Still, there were other skills like 'Ultimate Language Pack' worth five years of lifespan. It was convenient for when he'd travel to Essos to trade. But for now, it wasn't needed. There was also 'Political Mastery' for five years. Also 'Naval Warfare Mastery', 'Land Warfare Mastery'. But they were meant for modern navies and armies. 

Still, there were designs for very specific items, one of which caught his eye. 

[Ships of the Line First Rate to Fourth Rate Design - 10 Years]

That was mouthwatering. The Shipbuilding skill he had bought was basic. He'd be able to make simple Westeros-style merchant ships with ease. But this… this was something grand.

He had seen the Westerosi ships. Heck, he'd seen the so-called Greatships that were used to carry soldiers, and they were just carracks. Even a third-rate ship of the line was bigger than Westeros' largest, fastest ships. And while the First Rate, Ship-of-the-line, were exciting, they were too big and expensive to maintain. Though Wylis wanted one, his own HMS Victory, but he needed fat pockets and a thriving business first.

For now, he had no desire to build gun-wielding warships. He wasn't sure about introducing cannons to Westeros. Gunpowder was a slippery slope. Besides, Gunsmithing mastery required ten years. 

Currently, all he wanted was a decent merchant fleet. Maybe five or ten ships.

Brushing all thoughts aside, he looked at the remaining lifespan left. 

[Remaining Lifespan - 53 Years 6 Months]

Not good, not bad. Enough to play around in case of emergencies. 

Knock! Knock!

"My Lord, the harbor's in sight."

Elia woke up from that knock and slowly opened her eyes. 

"Oh~"

She gasped and sat up with a jolt. It was dark, so her face wasn't visible. 

"I… Ser…"

Wylis chuckled and sat up as well. It was cramped, so with him also sitting, their bodies touched. "It's good that you three are well rested, my Lady."

Quickly, Wylis slid off the bed and left the cabin. 

Outside, he found a tub of water for common use and washed his face. Finally, he climbed to the deck and watched the White Harbor get bigger. It was still dark, at least an hour until sunrise. The city was well-lit, especially its harbor. They had already passed the lighthouse.

Hmm… I wanted to leave her in the city but…

Wylis didn't know the state of Ramsgate. He knew that a town existed there by the same name, but whether it was a town or a village was unknown. Besides, the castle didn't have a lord, just a keeper, not even a knight. It came under the jurisdiction of the Manderlys. 

Thankfully, Wylis was the King's direct vassal despite being a minor lord. If he were made a lord by Lord Mandery, a Great House, then he would have been a minor lord who stood even below a lord. 

Heck, the system was so strange that even Wylis could have lords under him in the future as his vassals. And then they could have more lords under them. The system was like a pyramid. While the King was always at the top, the lords weren't always on the second level. Only Great Houses were on the second level, and then the rest of the lords, and then the minor lords, and then the knights, and so on. 

As the city got even bigger, and its true size became clear, Wylis decided to take Elia along. He feared that she'd try to somehow contact her family. He didn't trust her enough to leave her alone. 

Some time later, Wylis led Elia and her kids off the ship, holding his bags and sacks on his shoulders as he did. Soon, Caliburn was brought out, as healthy as ever. He then put the saddle on, tied all the sacks onto him. Then he did the same for Elia's horse. 

It was too early in the morning, so the shops were closed. But there were still some traders at the port. Wylis bought some food items from them, something to last them a few days. Something delicious, good enough for his and his guests' spoiled taste buds. 

After that, he rode towards Ramsgate. 

While it wasn't Winterfell cold, the air was still chilly. They all wore fur cloaks to fight it. Not having anything for Rhaenys' size, Wylis just hid her under his cloak, letting her peek out with only her head out. 

It was once again going to take them a few days on horseback. A ship would have been faster, but there were none headed that way. 

Ting!

[Cersei Lannister Current Lust - 75%]

And then we have this. 

Riding into the sunrise, Wylis just sighed and accepted it. He was sure that if he were in Lannisport right now, he'd have fucked Cersei and she'd have spread her legs merrily. 

Sadly, he had no plans of going that way anytime soon. 

One day… for sure.

####

Casterly Rock, Westerlands,

It was midday, but the mood in Cersei's room was that of a steamy night. With her beloved brother far away in King's Landing, she only had herself. But to her own annoyance, she barely thought of Jaime anymore. 

For months now, only one man had occupied her mind. His face, she begrudgingly accepted to be more handsome than her brother's, just a little. His body… Now that was a whole different case. Beyond her wildest dreams, beyond any man could compete with. That day, when he defeated the Mountain, she'd seen it all. 

"Oooooh… Wylis… Yes… lick me… harder!" 

She imagined the masculine man towering over her, planting kisses on her goosebump-dotted skin, from her face to her lips, deep, intense kisses. Then, to her sensitive breasts, and finally eating up her flower. 

"Mmmmm~" Spread on her back on the bed, Cersei had her gown bunched around her waist while her right hand rubbed over her glistening petals, one finger slipping in and out. Her beautiful, long golden hair lay sprawled, her neck dotted with sweat. 

"Oooooh… Your tongue is so… strong!"

She wanted to imagine his cock. She expected it to be big, very big. But she simply couldn't imagine it because whenever she did imagine, it felt too big and… watching him slide inside her in those imaginations was… mind-shattering. 

Shaking her head, licking her lips, her back arched like a bow, her fingers sloshing harder, the wet sounds apparent. 

She wanted that man; she needed to lick him from his beautiful face to his cock. She wanted to taste him and have him taste her. She wanted to… keep him as her pet… forever. 

Her personal mountain, her shielding sword by day and stabbing sword by night. 

"Oh, oh, oooooh… I'm coming, Wylis, on yo-ooooh face!" 

She imagined Wylis eating her cunt all the way, drinking her nectar like she wanted to drink his virile one. He was the epitome of man; never in her life had she seen a man as perfect as him. 

Beauty, body, and now he had the status. The Kingmaker, they called him. The savior of King's Landing, they called him. The champion of the rebellion, they called him. 

But what truly threw her over the edge was how he killed Rhaegar for her. Shattered his teeth in the tourney and then his chest in battle. All for her, because of her favor. 

"Unnnnnnnnnngh! Oh, Gods… Yes!"

Her climax erupted like a fountain, her hips jerked up, lifting her lower body on her heels. Gushes after gushes of scentful, wet sprays sullied the sheets of her bed and filled her bedchamber with her musky fragrance. 

She panted, eyes wide, mouth open, not even able to make a sound anymore. It felt so good, so amazing, just by thinking about Wylis. She couldn't stop imagining how wonderful he would feel. 

"Huh… I… I'm… losing…" She panted, slowly losing that high. "...my mind."

Knock! Knock!

"Ugh!" She furiously glanced at the door and shouted. "What?!"

"M-My Lady… My Lord asked for your presence in his solar."

She frowned, annoyed. She was never called there, and now that she was, it was at the worst moment.

"I'll be there!" She shouted and sat up, looking at the utterly drenched mess she had made. 

She shook her head, sighing, and slid the entire gown off her body. Quickly, she walked over to the dresser to grab new clothes, but not before she admired herself in the large mirror. She traced her delicate hands over her feminine curves, her perky breasts that filled her hands easily, the glossy pink nipples she pinched, her narrow waist, smoothly curving out over her hips. 

She felt proud of her body, her face, knowing that any man to have her would be amongst the realm's luckiest. To not only get the Lannister link but also her. 

Yet, the man she wanted to have the most right now was so far away. All the gold and beauty felt pointless when she thought of that. 

Nonetheless, she put on a new set of clothes, a beautiful, deep red gown with gold threads running across its wide neck and sleeves. She combed her hair, fixed her jewelry, and finally left the bedchamber after ordering the maids to change her bedding. 

She knew that the maids gossiped about it. But she didn't care. They were insects to her. 

After some walking, she knocked on her father's solar and entered. Surprisingly, not just her father, but also her aunt and uncles were present.

Her father sat in his large chair, and Genna stood beside him on the right, Gerion on the left. Kevan had taken the left visitor's chair, while Tygett stood near the large open window. 

Aware that her father had returned from King's Landing just a day before, she expected something important.

"Take a seat, Cersei." 

Cersei heard her father's stern order and stiffly took the chair beside her uncle Kevan. "What's the matter, Father?"

She eyed everyone. Seeing Genna smiling, she at least knew it wasn't something bad.

"Cersei, you will soon be eight and ten. Your marriage is no small gossip; it is a matter weighed across the realm."

Cersei frowned, not liking it. She had been told that she was fated to become the queen. After the humiliation her father faced from the Mad King, by first refusing her hand for Rhaegar and then Viserys, she had no desire for that humiliation again. 

"As I promised you before, you will be a queen. Next year, you shall wed Robert Baratheon and take your place at his side. As his queen."

"..."

She hated herself. This was it, her dream. Her destiny. She should have jumped in excitement. Yet, she didn't. Her mind ran to remember a memory, the first time she met Wylis. The words he'd spoken with so much confidence back then. That she'd become the queen within the next few years. 

D-Did he… predict not only the rebellion but also the victory? No, that's… impossible! 

Yet, the mere thought that Wylis was so shrewd did magic between her legs, once again making her drenched. She hated how easily that man played with her body despite being so far away.

Ummmh… Then… I've lost the bet. I promised him a reward and… two favors.

Remembering that, she hated how her mind went for the filthiest, dirtiest thoughts. She almost hoped that he'd use those favors, make her get on her knees or perhaps… bed? She imagined herself refusing, but he wouldn't stop. She imagined that big, beautiful man taking her and turning her refusals into endless, senseless moans… she felt sore already imagining it.

"Cersei?" 

"Oh?" She focused again on Genna, calling for her. "Yes, Father. I understand. I only hope His Grace will be kind to me."

Her body was screaming, telling her to refuse the marriage. Ask to be wed to Lord Wylis instead. But she forced herself to think with her mind, not her cunt. Her father had refused the likes of Oberyn Martell. Wylis didn't stand a chance, sadly. Not that she wanted that to happen. From what she knew, Wylis had taken Ramsgate as his seat, a likely tiny castle of no significant worth with land as barren as the rest of the North. 

She could only hope that Robert Baratheon was decent, even if half as much as Wylis. She'd seen him before; he was tall and most certainly handsome. But sadly, after seeing Wylis, most men seemed mediocre to her. Of course, Jaime was an exception.

Being the queen is my fate. 

"He will. Necessity leaves him no other path." Tywin spoke without warmth. "We begin our preparations at once and ride for King's Landing in three months."

Oh… Wylis. Forgive me. 

Why, she didn't know. She just felt like apologizing. To her, Jaime was such a natural part of her life that she considered her husband-to-be her true 'first'.

####

Ramsgate, 

Ting!

[Legacy Feature Unlocked!]

[Tyrant's Fief Detected!]

[New Feature Unlocked - Tyrant's Fief!
Description - A Tyrant's eye sees all. Every blade of grass, every breath taken.
Effect - Access to the interactive map of Tyrant's Fief, marking borders, humans, enemies, animals, ships, allies, buildings, and found natural resources.]

Holy shit! That… makes the job easier. 

Wylis had just entered his fief and had received the ping. He summoned the screen and looked for an option. He clicked on Tyrant's Fief and right away, a realistic map of his lands appeared. It only showed his fief; the surrounding fiefs were covered in clouds, marked by the name of the house ruling it. Manderlys to the west, Hornwood to the north, and House Flint of Widow's Watch to his east. 

It's pretty big! 

He saw the numbers at the bottom of the screen, and it genuinely made his life so much easier. The fief given to him was thirty-two thousand acres big, roughly fifty square miles. It was large for a lesser lord, but since it was the North, there was simply too much land. His fief had a population of slightly more than four thousand. The Ramsgate castle was a coastal keep overlooking the Broken Branch river to its east and the Shivering Sea to its south. 

A town was attached to the keep, small but significant, with its own small harbor. The map also informed him that the biggest industries were timber, wool, and fishery; the entire fief was generating an early revenue of just below two hundred golden dragons. A pathetic amount, truly. 

The full details in that small scrollable table were extremely handy, though. Thankfully, it didn't count every cat, rat, and insect. 

[Tyrant's Fief Description

[32000 acres, 50 sq.miles. 

People - 4198

Garrison - 10 Men

Revenue - 192 Golden Dragons

Industries Main - Timber, wool, and fishing

Cities - 0

Town - 1

Villages - 11 

Ships - 0

Fleet - 0

Horses - 280

Cows - 315

Sheep - 5210

Goats - 844]

Wylis whistled at the numbers. But seriously, he had no clue if it was a good number or bad. He was never involved with the administration during his years at Winterfell. Though his economics mastery told him that the numbers were slightly below average, as the fief had a port. 

What is this?

When he looked back at the map, he noticed two red dots. 

The description noted them as enemies. All the people of his fief were marked green. The traders, visitors from outside, were marked gray. The allies were marked blue, and there were none of the blue ones in his fief at the moment. Villages were marked with a tiny shack icon, his castle was marked with a chess rook, and the town with a double-storey building. The port was marked with an anchor. Animals were currently disabled from showing, as they would cover most of the screen. 

Enemies already? 

He tried to tap on their red markers, hoping a name would come up. But that didn't happen. A new window did pop up, but it only said 'unknown'. Thankfully, the so-called enemies were sitting in the port. 

"You should wear the cloak, my Lady," Wylis warned Elia and looked at Rhaenys in front of him. "And you should hide, Leia. Remember what I taught you?"

"Uh-huh! Bad people chasing. I hide. My name’s Leia. I know." She peered at her mother. "Mama, you Myra. Him Jon."

He chuckled and patted her head. She was actually intelligent for her age and emotionally mature. "That's right. Hide now."

Soon, the coastal town and the castle came into view. To anyone looking, it would appear only a man and a woman were traveling. 

"Not bad." He muttered, finding the castle decent. 

It wasn't Winterfell or the Red Keep, but it was large, standing out. It was surrounded by four massive towers on each side, holding the middle keep, above which another massive tower, the highest of all, stood. There were also minor towers connected to each other, and some other roofed structures. It wasn't the prettiest, but it was a solid, stone castle that he could work on. 

The annoying part was that it was surrounded by the town on three sides, leaving only the east side empty, as there was the mouth of the Broken Branch River. The southern side was connected with the port itself. And even worse, the castle had no moat. 

Fuck, good thing I brought Elia along. Making changes with Earthbending without being seen won't be easy. 

A moat was an unquestionable addition. If he was going to keep that many ‘most wanted’ women in his castle, he needed absolute security. The good part was that he had a river right on the castle's east side to draw water from. 

"My Lord, my compliments. The town has a fairer face than I was expecting." Elia muttered from her horse, eyeing the surroundings. They had passed through some forested area, farmlands, and pastures. Now they were entering the town. 

"Better? It looks like a slum, Myra," Wylis replied, staring at the wooden buildings, most of them a single storey, and only a few went two floors. They were all dirty, dark, the road was all muddy, and the stench was comparable to King's Landing. Clearly, the smallfolk were shitting where they were eating. 

He passed through the market street, and the goods being sold there were of as low quality as one would expect. Only the fish were fresh. 

All eyes were on him from the get-go. He was indeed wearing some armor, after all. The rest was left in King's Landing, to be sent over to him later by a direct ship. Robert was going to send some needed linens and other items to decorate his new castle as well. Having friends in high places was helpful. 

"Trust me, my Lord. I have seen far, far worse." Elia said, just as they turned towards the castle. "But the castle is large. That's undeniable."

"That, I agree. Can use some personal touch, but nothing the bags of gold I brought can't solve," Wylis said, waving at the folks kneeling towards him. 

Since the castle sat high on top of a massive rock, the first gates of the castle were more like a sentry outpost, made of stone, like a large cube with arched open gates. The guards knelt to him, showing their fealty by doing the whole knight salute, even though they were barely armored, holding simple spears. 

All trade must get sucked away to White Harbor instead of here. 

He understood why Ramsgate was so pitiful. It didn't produce anything major, and it had no major road attached either. 

Finally, walking on an upward stone ramp, they crossed the final gates, a real one this time, complete with wooden reinforced gates and a portcullis available, both lifted up currently. More guards welcomed him there, all of them kneeling. 

Soon enough, he was standing in the modest, wide, square-shaped courtyard, made of dirt. Sadly, it felt filthy. 

That counts ten. 

"Ah, M'lord! Welcome, welcome to Ramsgate!"

And then came the cliche old man, dressed in decent robes, hair white, clean-shaven, double-chinned, healthily overweight. His eyes were blue, but showed a hint of intelligence that most smallfolk didn't.

"Ah, M'lord, a thousand pardons. Brennard, I am called, steward of this castle, placed here by Lord Wyman himself six years past. Please, let me fetch you wine, bread, whatever you desire—The castle is yours, M'lord."

Overdoing it now, isn't he? Wylis nodded and noticed all ten guards were eying him. There were too many eyes to do things secretly. Fuck it, what's the worst she'll say? 

"Pleasant meeting you, Brennard. Seems you've kept the castle in good shape," Wylis replied, keeping his voice firm, loud, and confident. 

He moved his cloak and revealed little Rhaenys. “Have supper waiting, and a bath drawn. The travel’s left us weary.”

Wylis saw the curious eyes that Brennard landed on Rhaenys. And when Wylis helped Elia down from her eyes, the old steward stared harder. 

"M'lord, this is?"

Wylis smiled, lifting Rhaenys in his arms, and kissed her cheek. "This is my daughter, Leia, and…"

He stepped to Elia's side, confidently threw an arm around her shoulder, pulled her in, and then, with his heart pounding, kissed her lips. Just a single, tiny, quick peck. 

"This here is Myra, mother of my two children. We never took vows. My lady is someone else, and soon will be arriving. Oh, and the boy is Jon."

"..."

Don't… Don't show it, Elia.

He glanced at Elia's face to see her reaction. Thankfully, she was no weak damsel and kept a simple smile on her face. 

"A-Ah… Of course, of course." Brennard nodded his head strongly, his eyes leering at Elia for some time, measuring her from her Dornish face to her feet, something that didn't go unnoticed by Wylis' cold gaze. 

His loyalty's questionable, and now even his character. 

"Please, come this way, M'lord. I’ll see you to your hall and chamber. The men will bring your belongings. The Great Hall opens onto the main passage, where the finest rooms lie, yours among them, M'lord. Your solar sits high in the middle tower, with a fair view of the town and harbor. It is a proud castle, M’lord."

Wylis just nodded, noticing how the steward was so confident, while the soldiers following behind him were close to trembling. He also saw two maids on the way. They looked young, in their late teens. He expected they would stand aside and bow to him, but instead, they just lowered their heads, cowering, and passed by them, not a word spoken. 

Hmm… The castle wasn't without a self-proclaimed lecherous lord, I guess. 

His eyes shifted towards Brennard, catching him occasionally looking at Elia. But when he saw the man glancing at Rhaenys, he almost pulled his sword. But he didn't, killing him would cause problems. Brennard was Lord Wyman's man. He needed justification, even the slightest of it. 

"This is your bedchamber, M'lord." 

Finally, Brennard ushered them into a very large room. It was thrice the size of Lyanna's bedchamber in Winterfell. The floor was covered with fine carpet, and the windows were covered with silken curtains. A large dresser and mirror were on one side, a seating area with cushions, a table with a chair, many candles, and a grand canopied bed, complete with matching curtains and blankets. 

Looks extensively used. By our dear Lord Brennard, I'm sure. 

"See that a bath is made ready with warm water," Wylis ordered, turned, and pushed the old man out. He let the soldiers place his luggage inside, saw them out, and shut the door. 

Surprisingly, he found the door was very thick, reinforced with metal plating, as if someone was afraid of noise leaking out.

"Yaaaay!" Rhaenys ran to check around the room as soon as Wylis put her on the floor. 

He didn't go anywhere and just faced Elia with an honestly apologetic look. "Forgive me, Myra. There were too many eyes, I had to create a believable cover for you three."

"No." Elia caught his arm, shaking her head gently. "Thank you. It was necessary, I know. We should maintain this, show it rarely… this… occasional intimacy."

Seeing her embarrassment and hesitation, he didn't press it and just nodded. Then he took out the dagger from his belt, not just the blade but the whole thing with its scabbard. 

"Bar the door and keep to yourself. I think Brennard’s taken too much liberty and made himself the lord around here. The maids looked half-haunted at the sight of him, and I saw how his eyes lingered on you. I’ve known that look before, back in Winter Town. Give such men a scrap of power, and they twist it to ruin. At best he’s a thief and a cheat. At worst… a rapist and a murderer. I'm leaning towards the latter."

Elia didn't seem surprised by that as she took the dagger and nodded, staring directly into Wylis's eyes. "I felt his eyes on me. I’m used to stares, but the men at home at least had the courtesy to rein themselves in. This one… he didn’t care that you stood beside me. Be careful, my Lord."

“He’s likely clinging to Lord Wyman for hope. I’ll take him into town and press him for answers. At worst, he'll return in pieces. At best, broken," Wylis said and fixed his giant sword on his back. "I’ll return soon. Until then, stay away from the baths. And make sure Leia grows used to… this bond between us.”

Finally, Wylis walked out of the bedchamber and heard the door lock from inside. He found two soldiers standing guard there already. They were different from the ones who brought in the luggage. These two didn't seem afraid of him. 

Lord Brennard's a team builder? 

"Follow me!" He ordered them. 

"M'lord, we were ordered—"

Woosh!

Splash!

Thud!

Wylis shifted for a blink of an eye. His one hand grabbed his sword's hilt. Just as his sword slid out of its custom scabbard on his back, he aimed it at the two heads. As soon as the sword was out, the blade swung and sliced the two heads clean, leaving the headless bodies to fall a second later. 

Knock! Knock!

He knocked on the door and spoke gently. "I killed the two guards, Myra. Don't let Leia see it… It's bloody."

"Understood," her voice came. 

With that done, he walked away, towards the Great Hall. Then he crossed another corridor and reached the exit of the castle's main keep, and arrived at the square courtyard. Unsurprisingly, he saw Brennard there, holding eight men in front of himself like a small army in a grid. He shouted orders at them. 

"I didn’t take you for one to shout, Brennard." Wylis walked into the open grounds and eyed the two men who had picked up his luggage. 

"You two—hold the keep’s gate. The rest, with me, into the town. Brennard, you’ll come as well. I’ll need your hand to guide the way."

"Of course, M'lord. But the town is safe, we don't need that many m—"

"I don't like to repeat myself, Brennard, remember that." 

The old steward shut his mouth and just smiled, nodding, his eyes now nervous. 

"Lead the way." 

At Wylis' command, the steward started walking. Wylis joined him on the side. Six men, armed with just a single crude spear each, walked behind him in orderly fashion, looking more trained than their lack of equipment suggested. 

Bandits? Since when did they learn how to march? 

"Where should we start, M'lord?" 

"The harbor," Wylis answered. 

As they walked, Wylis opened the Tyrant's Fief map and maintained it open, nudging the steward to take him towards the two red dots he'd seen on the map. As they went from shop to shop, the signs of trouble continued to become clear. 

The smallfolk bowed to Brennard and then to him. Their eyes were filled with fear. 

Eventually, he stood in front of the two red dots. They were running a shop, a decently sized stall selling various types of fish. Their faces were sharp and bodies strong, unlike the rest of the smallfolk in the town. 

Why are they red? How does the Tyrant's Squire decide who's my enemy and who's my friend? 

"Fine fish you got there." He made small talk and picked up a fish. "Where'd you catch it?"

"We didn't catch it, my lord. We only buy it from the fishermen and then sell it." The man on the right replied. 

"Is that so? How much fish do you sell in a day?"

"Uh… not a lot, my Lord."

"Then why do you have so much fresh fish? Isn't it a waste if you don't sell much?"

"We… we give the leftover fish to the steward, my lord. So the guards are fed."

Wylis looked at Brennard with a raised brow, surprised that the simple fish sellers addressed him so calmly and commonly. Heck, the two sellers didn't even seem much bothered by him, as if they were used to speaking with nobility. 

"Good, helping the town. What are your names? You don't seem from around here, so strong and tall."

"I'm Brynce, and this is Jayse, my Lord. We're brothers and we come from a village near Dreadfort, my Lord."

[Name(Unknown)
Home - Dreadfort]

[Name(Unknown)
Home - Dreadfort]

Oh? It can tell that? 

Wylis had an inkling that they were lying about their names, but it seemed Tyrant's Squire not only picked up their lie but also the truth. They really were from Dreadfort, the seat of House Bolton. 

Then these men are…?

He glanced at the men behind him and then at Brennard. 

[Name - Brennard
Home - White Harbor]

So the castle steward sold out to the Boltons? No wonder the place stinks; the rot starts from the top.

Ting!

[New Hidden Quest - Honor of Ramsgate
Description - Investigate the mysterious behavior of the town and purge the evil in the Tyrant's way.
Reward - Love, respect, and loyalty of the people of Ramsgate town.]

About time one showed up. 

"Enough tricks. What are your real names?"

The two sellers froze… as did the six guards behind him.