The months that followed were among the busiest Brandon had known.
With the fields finally prepared, he spent nearly every day overseeing the work himself.
Rather than leaving the labor to experienced farmers, he walked the fields alongside them, showing each man exactly how he wished the crops to be planted.
The distance between rows, the depth at which each seed was buried, the order in which the fields would be cultivated—nothing was left to chance.
Every instruction served a purpose, even if the laborers did not yet understand it.
Some questioned the strange methods.
Most simply obeyed.
Brandon knew precisely what he was asking of them.
Whenever his memory failed him, he turned to the endless library bestowed by his boon.
There, among countless volumes of knowledge, he found the answers he sought before returning to the fields to put them into practice.
His duties did not end with agriculture.
Each morning began in the training yard beneath the watchful eye of Jon Glover, Winterfell’s master-at-arms.
Swordsmanship, archery, riding and endurance filled the greater part of his afternoons.
Whenever time allowed, he sparred with his father as well.
Prince Edwyn remained the finer swordsman.
Years of war against the Barrow Kings had forged him into one of the greatest warriors in the Winter Kingdom, and Brandon had yet to match that experience.
Even so, he had grown skilled enough that their bouts were no longer one-sided.
Though defeat remained inevitable, Edwyn now had to earn every victory.
One afternoon, while Brandon was crossing wooden swords with Jon Glover, a guardsman entered the yard.
“My prince,” the man said with a respectful bow.
“The king requests your presence.”
It was not truly a request.
Brandon lowered his practice sword, handed it to a servant and made his way toward his grandsire’s chambers.
King Rickard wasted little time with pleasantries.
“The matter has been decided,” the old king said.
“You are to wed the eldest daughter of Lord Dustin.”
Brandon listened quietly.
“She has seen four-and-ten namedays and will arrive at Winterfell before long.”
Brandon inclined his head.
“As you command, Grandfather.”
Marriage among great houses had never been a matter of affection.
Alliances strengthened kingdoms, secured loyalties and ensured peace between powerful families.
He had known since childhood that one day he would wed for duty rather than desire.
Once dismissed, Brandon did not return to the castle immediately.
Instead, he rode toward the fields with Raker padding silently beside his horse.
Three months of labor had begun to bear fruit.
The peas and lentils stood ready for harvest, while the winter wheat had grown thick and healthy beneath the northern sky.
The rotation appeared to be working exactly as he had intended.
Their wool had already begun to improve under the new breeding program, while their milk proved more plentiful than the workers themselves could consume.
Watching several buckets of fresh milk set aside with no immediate use, Brandon paused.
Another idea came to him.
Cheese.
Milk spoiled quickly.
Cheese endured.
Without hesitation, Brandon turned once more to the library within his mind, searching until he found the methods he required.
Satisfied, he copied the process into the Common Tongue and handed the instructions to the head shepherd.
“Use the surplus,” Brandon said.
“Turn it into hard cheese.
It will keep far longer than milk ever could.”
The shepherd accepted the parchment with a puzzled expression but promised to follow the prince’s instructions.
Only then did Brandon return to Winterfell.
By the time he entered the Great Hall, his father, mother, grandsire and grandmother had already assembled to receive their guests.
Lady Dustin entered with the quiet confidence expected of a noblewoman of the North.
There was grace in the way she carried herself, but beneath it lay the rugged strength that the harsh lands demanded of all who called them home.
Brandon offered the proper courtesies, then remained silent.
For now, he merely observed.
There would be time enough to know the woman whose daughter was soon to become his bride.