As the sun set and the sky grew dim, smoke rose from the farmhouses on the estate.
An old man and a young man walked over to a small courtyard, peeking through the fence as they whispered to each other.
“Has that woman been behaving herself lately?” Edmure asked.
“She has gotten used to village life, though she still talks too much and says foolish things,” Septon Omid replied.
“Her daughter is four now and does not need constant attention like a baby.
Since we were worried she might cause trouble out of boredom, we gave her some sewing and mending to do.” “How is the little girl, Bella?” Edmure asked.
“Her mother used to be a prostitute, but she still loves her daughter very much.
Bella is being raised well—she has healthy fair skin, dark black hair, and large, clear eyes.
She is a lovely child.” The old septon smiled as he spoke of her.
“Remind her again: if she wants a long life for herself and her daughter, she must never tell anyone that Bella is the King’s child,” Edmure said sternly.
“I will make sure she has everything she needs, and I expect her to be a good mother.
If she feels lonely, she must at least stay and raise Bella until the girl turns eight.” “When that time comes, if she wants to marry, I will pay her dowry.
Bella will then be sent to Riverrun to work as a page, and her mother will have nothing more to do with her.” Septon Omid looked slightly embarrassed.
“I do not think Bella’s mother cares to marry; she simply enjoys her freedom.” “Old man, give her my warning,” Edmure said, his tone sharpening.
“Her lifestyle must not get in the way of caring for the child.
She must not go after married men, and she definitely cannot bring men into her home.
If she breaks these three rules, I will take Bella away.
She is not the only person who can raise a child.” “Your warning is very fair.
I am sure she will obey,” the old septon said, nodding repeatedly.
Before turning to leave, Edmure looked at the empty courtyard and added, “Build her a chicken coop.
When winter ends, give her a few chicks to raise.” The two returned to the council hall, where a young musician carrying a harp was waiting.
His name was Raymond, the literacy teacher for the orphans, though people called him “The Doggerel Bard.” Because educated people were hard to find, Edmure had turned to traveling performers for help.
During the freezing winter, musicians had few places to work.
Raymond worked hard, but every time they met, he insisted on singing a song.
He hoped to impress the young lord and earn a position playing for the high officials in Riverrun.
Unfortunately, Edmure did not care much for Westerosi music.
If a crowd was cheering, he would toss Raymond a silver coin out of courtesy.
Over time, this had simply become a routine.
Once Raymond finished singing and playing his harp, the servants brought out hot food.
Edmure and his five companions sat at the long table with the orphans, joined by a few estate managers who lived alone and usually ate there.
Everyone else had returned to their own homes to eat, as there was not enough food to feed the entire village.
The hard black bread was tough to chew, but the thick stew tasted surprisingly good.
It was piping hot, flavorful, and hearty.
Candles and lamp oil were expensive, so the room remained dimly lit, much like any commoner’s home at night.
After dinner, everyone had free time.
Occasionally, old Septon Omid led the children in singing holy songs, his thin voice trembling as he sang.
Edmure walked around to talk with some of the orphans.
He felt their clothes to see if they were warm enough, checked their hands and feet for frostbite, and looked through their hair for lice.
Even though Edmure was only fourteen years old, the children were shy around him, answering only when spoken to.
Some were so nervous they fidgeted, yet their eyes shone with admiration, affection, and respect.
On the other hand, Bronn and the two other servants were very popular.
The orphans crowded around their former friends, eagerly asking about life at the castle and admiring their clothes.
A few of the bolder children even asked Bronn to draw his fine steel sword so they could see it.
Edmure had many projects to fund, so his personal savings were low.
He dressed simply in plain, warm clothes with little dye, silk, or fur.
His servants dressed similarly, wearing practical gear.
The orphans, however, were dressed far worse.
They wore old, dirty cotton clothes held together by coarse thread, stuffed with scraps of fabric, feathers, and rough wool.
Their outer coats were made of worn sheepskin or goatskin, stained with mud and grease.
Their shoes were falling apart, and their socks were covered in patches.
Edmure knew this was normal for commoners in Westeros, but it still saddened him.
Fortunately, the children were healthy and well-fed, even if many of them suffered from mild frostbite.
This was Edmure’s first official inspection of the estate since building the orphanage.
He had refused the managers’ offers of special treatment, choosing instead to eat and sleep alongside the orphans.
By doing this, he had previously caught and removed corrupt workers on the estate.
Now, everyone understood his high standards.
That night, six empty beds were prepared in the children’s dormitory for Edmure and his men.
The dormitory had dirt walls and a thatched roof.
Instead of normal beds, Edmure had ordered the construction of two long rows of heated brick beds, known as Kangs.
This design kept the room very warm while using very little firewood.
However, because few builders knew how to make them and renovating old houses was expensive, these heated beds were not yet common in the Riverlands, where winters were milder than in the North.
So far, Edmure had only built them at the orphanage and his new experimental farm, where the feedback had been excellent.
For commoners who did not live in thick stone castles, a heated brick bed was far more practical than an open fireplace.
The two rows of brick beds had twelve sleeping spots, half of which were used by orphans.
The mattresses were stuffed with clean straw, but the blankets were made of rough felt that scratched the skin.
Edmure wore soft linen underwear and wrapped himself in his coat.
Lying on the mattress beneath the scratchy blanket, he felt completely warm.
He had brought an bug-repellent pouch from Maester Weyman, but he left it in his bag so he could experience the exact conditions the children lived in.
He only hoped there would not be too many fleas.
After a long day of travel, the guards and servants quickly fell asleep and began to snore, but Edmure stayed awake, his mind racing.
Education was an expensive investment.
Running the orphanage cost even more than running the Riverrun Academy.
To help cover these costs, children over the age of eight worked as apprentices in their spare time, helping the estate’s farmers, herders, fishermen, and cooks.
The brightest children were sent to learn trades from local butchers, leatherworkers, and carpenters.
Couples in the Riverlands who could not have children were also allowed to adopt from the orphanage, giving many average children a good home.
The most talented orphans were selected early and given special training.
At age ten, they chose a career path in military service, administration, scholarship, craftsmanship, or trade.
At fourteen, they moved to Riverrun to attend academy classes, and at sixteen, they began working as apprentices.
Orphans without special skills became farmers on House Tully’s lands or worked in Edmure’s workshops.
If the realm stayed at peace, these children would grow up, marry, and live quiet, stable lives as ordinary subjects.
So far, sixty to seventy top orphans were directly serving Edmure, half of whom were trained warriors.
In addition, House Tully had gained over a thousand loyal workers for its lands.
Still, Edmure knew the orphanage needed much more improvement.
He wanted to help more children, raise their living standards, hire better teachers, create a proper school curriculum, and connect the orphanage directly to the Riverrun Academy.
The main obstacle was money.
His charity work and experimental workshops required a massive amount of capital, and turning his inventions into profitable businesses would cost even more.
Once he took control of The Twins, his financial problems would be solved.
Feeling sleepy at last, Edmure closed his eyes and drifted off, dreaming of his comfortable past life—a modern home with central heating, hot chocolate, warm baths, and a soft mattress…
Including travel time, Edmure spent three days and two nights away before returning to Riverrun.
As his responsibilities grew, he could no longer inspect every detail himself.
Tasks like checking the estate’s financial records, visiting the elderly, and reviewing living conditions would eventually have to be assigned to trusted managers.
With the departure date for the North approaching, the final list of noble students joining the trip was set: Patrek Mallister, heir to Seaguard; Brynden Blackwood, eldest son of the Lord of Ravenswood; Hendry Bracken, nephew of the Lord of Stone Hedge; Ronald Vance, eldest son of the Lord of Atranta, along with his younger brother Hugo; Marko Piper, eldest son of the Lord of Pinkmaiden; Tristan Legg, a noble from Willow Wood; and Robert Paige, the son of a local knight.
Ser Karyl Vance, the eldest son of the Lord of Wayfarers Rest, also decided to join, even though he was not an academy student.
He was a few years older than Edmure, but the two were good friends.
The two branches of House Vance—from Atranta and Wayfarers Rest—shared the same family line, and their combined lands were larger than House Tully’s own domain.
Seeing so many noble heirs gathered under his leadership made Edmure feel both proud and nervous.
He knew that if anything happened to these young men during the trip, his family’s rule over the Riverlands would be ruined forever.
Because winter travel was difficult, the size of the group was capped at sixty people.
Each of the nine young nobles brought one personal guard.
Their leader, Ser Brynden “Blackfish” Tully, brought eleven experienced soldiers.
Edmure and Bronn brought twenty-eight trained followers, including twenty fighters and eight specialists, such as doctors, craftsmen, and traders.
Their supplies were loaded onto twenty-five four-wheeled wagons pulled by a hundred mules.
They also brought ten plow horses, ten sturdy northern horses for scouting and combat, and ten hunting dogs.
Since the noble families lived in different parts of the region, they agreed to travel separately and meet at Seaguard in the north.
From there, the entire group would journey north together.