Lying on the bed in Westeros — though clean, it was still unfamiliar — Luke couldn't sleep.
Outside the window were the typical nighttime sounds of King's Landing, not entirely quiet.
Occasional distant dog barks, the footsteps of patrolmen, and perhaps some unknown transactions or conflicts in certain corners.
More importantly, in this estate, besides himself, there were now eleven newly hired mercenaries of unknown backgrounds and almost zero loyalty.
Including the shrewd, cunning, money-driven Bronn.
Greed leading to betrayal? Blackmail and robbery?
In this world where laws were weak and force ruled, these concerns were not unfounded.
His salt, sugar, and perfume trades hadn't been particularly discreet, and Bronn had personally seen him produce two large sacks of "hard currency."
Putting his personal safety entirely on the professional ethics and "trust" of freshly hired mercenaries would be naïve.
As these thoughts turned in his mind, Luke focused his will.
The next second, the weightless sensation arrived, and the scene before him switched.
The familiar, slightly musty air of his rental room, the constant low hum of the city at night outside the window, and the slightly hard but incredibly comforting bed beneath him.
The clean, bright rental room, a hot shower, the cool breeze from the small fan… a strong sense of security instantly wrapped around him.
"This side still feels safer…"
He let out a long sigh, turned off the light, and quickly fell into peaceful sleep amid the familiar nighttime background noise of Blue Star.
The next morning, when he returned refreshed to his Westeros estate, the front yard was already bustling.
Bronn and several of his men were gathered around a small wooden table, drinking murky ale and gnawing on rock-hard, suspiciously colored black bread and a few pieces of cheese, laughing and talking loudly.
When they saw Luke emerge from the rear yard, Bronn wiped his mouth and stood up.
"Morning, Luke," he grinned. "This place is good, but it's a bit empty. We're short on food, meat, wine, and especially cooks and servants to handle chores. We can't expect the brothers to cook for themselves, can we? Their cooking is so bad even the rats in Flea Bottom would turn their noses up at it."
Luke nodded, his gaze sweeping over the ten new guards who were secretly observing him.
These men had decent builds, and their eyes mostly held the typical mercenary wariness mixed with assessment of their new employer. For now, nothing major stood out.
"We'll handle procurement today," Luke said concisely.
"Bronn, pick four men and come with me. The remaining six stay here to guard the house. Without my permission, no one is allowed near the rear yard, and no outsiders are to be let in."
"Understood."
Bronn acknowledged the order and quickly selected four relatively sharp and steady-looking mercenaries.
The group returned to Shoe-maker's Square.
It was still noisy and chaotic, but Luke's goal was clear — to recruit more manpower.
Under Bronn's guidance, they found some relatively hidden corners or crude sheds on the edge of the square, where "human traffickers" (gray-market brokers) were active.
While Westeros officially banned slave trading, poverty, debt, and survival pressure had created countless forms of disguised servitude.
Buying and selling people outright was forbidden, but "purchasing debts," "long-term servant contracts," or "accepting debt collateral" were tacitly accepted gray rules.
Every world had its loopholes — policies above, countermeasures below.
Luke didn't waste time bargaining. Using one hundred gold dragons as "advance payment" and "settlement fees," he "recruited" twenty people.
Ten of them were young men aged fourteen to twenty, thin and malnourished but reasonably sturdy. Most had signed near-slavery long-term service contracts due to family bankruptcy, debt, or simply having no way to survive.
Luke planned to have Bronn and his men train them slightly, turning them into a potential future armed force or loyal servants.
The other ten were various servants: three who claimed they could cook, five middle-aged men and women for heavy labor.
The last two were a pair of twin sisters who had caught Luke's attention.
They looked about sixteen or seventeen, with golden hair and blue eyes — very much to Luke's Eastern aesthetic tastes.
Though thin and dressed in rags, their underlying beauty was undeniable.
What caught Luke's attention even more was the broker lowering his voice: "These sisters are the bastard daughters of a fallen knight. Their father was a gambling addict who used them to pay off debts… He guarantees they are both still virgins and can read and write!"
Literate!
In this world with extremely high illiteracy rates, that was a rare skill.
With an awkward background and betrayed by their own father, they were in desperate straits… perfect candidates for showing kindness and cultivating initial loyalty.
Luke immediately decided to take the twin sisters.
The older one was named Annie Waters, the younger Emma Waters.
Bastards born in the Crownlands all bore the surname "Waters."
Hearing that their new master was this well-dressed, handsome young lord, a faint spark of hope appeared in the sisters' eyes, but mostly they were filled with fear and unease.
Bronn watched from the side with clicking sounds of approval, leaning over with a wink. "Luke, good eye! These twin flowers — fatten them up for a few months and send them to Silk Street, and they'd be top courtesans!"
"Tsk tsk, still virgins, tender enough to squeeze water out… My lord, you've got quite the taste, liking two at once?"
His voice wasn't loud, but it was enough for Annie and Emma to hear.
The sisters' faces instantly turned deathly pale. Tears rolled down like broken beads as they hugged each other, trembling, looking at Luke with pure despair.
Luke's expression darkened. He shot Bronn a cold glare. "Bronn, watch your mouth. They are my maids, not goods. If I hear that kind of talk again, I'll dock your pay."
Bronn scratched his nose sheepishly and muttered, "Just joking…" but didn't say anything more.
He could tell this young lord was genuinely displeased.
Just as Luke was about to leave with the large group, an inconspicuous corner on the other side of the square caught his eye.
There stood an olive-skinned Essosi couple with an equally beautiful teenage girl, standing silently.
The man held a crude wooden sign written in Common Tongue:
[Literate, can write, fluent in Westerosi Common and Valyrian, skilled in arithmetic and management. Requirements: 2 gold coins per month, provide housing and food for a family of three. Maximum 3-year contract, renewable upon expiration.]
Talent!
That was Luke's first reaction.
Literate, able to write, skilled in arithmetic and management — in this era, that was basically a high-level intellectual and professional manager!
He walked over immediately.
Through conversation, he learned the man was named Arthur, 49 years old, claiming to come from Myr across the Narrow Sea.
He had once been the steward of a wealthy merchant. After his master went bankrupt and offended powerful enemies, the family had no choice but to flee across the sea to Westeros to seek a living.
Arthur had completely white hair but black eyebrows and eyes, his face weathered by hardship.
His wife Carola looked quite young — an exotic beauty with captivating charm. Her every expression and movement was alluring, making even Bronn's eyes go straight. Especially her full, proud bosom, which made Luke a little dizzy too!
Their daughter "Michelle," about the same age as the Waters sisters, had inherited her mother's beauty and was a budding stunner.
Arthur's attitude was neither humble nor arrogant. His speech was clear and logical, showing good education and reasoning ability.
Luke didn't hesitate and immediately "hired" the family of three.
Two gold dragons per month was an astronomical salary for ordinary people, but for Luke, a person who could manage household affairs, accounts, and documents was absolutely worth it.
The large group returned to the new estate on Rhaenys's Hill, instantly bringing life to the previously empty courtyard.
Luke quickly made arrangements:
Arthur's family was placed in the eastern wing of the rear yard — relatively quiet and independent, suitable for living and working.
Annie and Emma Waters were assigned two small rooms on the first floor of the main building. Nominally servant quarters, they were close to Luke's bedroom for easy access, observation, and training.
Bronn was "assigned" to the western wing, closer to the front yard for convenient management of the guards.
Then, Luke called Arthur into the reception hall, which had been temporarily converted into a study, and pushed a heavy bag of gold coins toward him.
"Here is one thousand gold dragons," Luke said calmly.
"Arthur, from today onward, you are responsible for all daily expenses, wage payments, and servant scheduling in the estate. Use this money as startup capital. Keep proper accounts and report to me regularly."
Arthur was stunned.
He looked at the bag of gold — enough to make many minor nobles envious — then up at this young new master he had only known for half a day. His eyes were filled with disbelief.
Such enormous trust and responsibility felt unreal after his turbulent life and witnessing countless betrayals.
"My lord… I…" Arthur's voice choked. "You… trust me so much…"
"I judge only by ability, not the past," Luke interrupted, his gaze sharp.
"You managed to bring your family safely from Myr to King's Landing — that is ability. Manage this place well, and I will not mistreat you. But if anything goes wrong…"
He didn't finish, but the implication made Arthur's heart tighten.
"I will not fail you, my lord!"
Arthur bowed deeply and solemnly accepted the money bag with both hands, feeling the heavy weight on his shoulders.
It wasn't just the weight of gold, but also a heavy responsibility and… perhaps a chance to change his fate.
Afterward, Luke called Bronn over.
"Divide the guards into two teams of five. One day shift, one night shift, rotating. During day shift, unless on an外出 mission, each man must teach the ten new boys one hour of martial arts daily as extra work, with an additional five silver stags per day. Night shift gets an extra ten silver stags per night."
He paused, then added, "Also, every guard who works five consecutive days gets one 'paid leave' day. Meaning, they get paid even on their rest day."
Bronn blinked, scratched his messy hair, and said, "Pay for teaching during the day, more for night duty, and get a paid day off after five work days? My lord, these rules… are quite new."
He grinned. "But the brothers will definitely like it! I'll go arrange it right away!"
Watching Bronn leave excitedly, Luke walked to the window and looked at the courtyard gradually enveloped by twilight.
Under Arthur's direction, the servants began cleaning and settling in.
The guards lined up and divided into groups under Bronn's commands.
Annie and Emma carefully carried water basins to wipe down the furniture in the main building.
Arthur's wife Carola had already tied on an apron and was busy in the kitchen with the three new cooks…
This estate, which had been empty and cold just yesterday, was transforming at an astonishing speed into a functional, fully staffed "base."
The foundation was being built.
Trust would require time and benefits to solidify.
It was currently 297 AC. "The Hand of the King" — Jon Arryn — didn't have much time left!
In 298 AC, next year, Robert would head north, and the wolves would head south…