The lingering rays of the setting sun dyed the rooftops of King’s Landing a golden red, draping this clamorous city in a slightly weary, gentle cloak.
Luke sat in the same corner of the Father Cobbler tavern where he had spent his morning, a freshly poured, virtually untouched mug of ale sitting before him.
Bronn did not disappoint.
Before the agreed sunset, he walked in with a well-dressed but visibly anxious middle-aged fair-haired man.
The man was somewhat stout and slightly balding.
He wore the characteristic shrewdness of a businessman on his face, but the hint of panic deep in his eyes did not escape Luke’s notice.
“Lord Luke,” Bronn said as he stepped forward with a slight bow, his attitude considerably more respectful than it had been that morning.
“This is Mr.
Quenn Carter, a respectable merchant.
He happens to be looking to sell a property on Rhaenys’ Hill.
It’s quite spacious—a standalone estate, not too far from the Street of Silk.
I thought it might suit your needs, so I brought him here to speak with you.”
Having finished, Bronn stepped behind Luke, shooting him a quick, barely perceptible look.
He raised an eyebrow slightly and nudged his chin toward Quenn’s direction.
The meaning was clear: *This guy is in a rush.
You can squeeze him.*
Luke understood instantly.
Keeping his expression neutral, he gestured for Quenn Carter to sit.
“Luke Jackeneen,” Luke introduced himself, keeping his identity vague with a mix of truth and lies.
“My ancestors were Westerosi nobles, though now…
I suppose I am a merchant.
Please, take a seat, Mr.
Carter.
I hear you have a property to sell?”
Quenn Carter sat, his eyes quickly scanning Luke, as if assessing the resources and background of this young man claiming to be a “merchant.”
Instead of answering the property question right away, he asked with a professional smile, “Mr.
Jackeneen?
That surname…
is not one I hear often.
May I ask what line of business you are primarily in?”
Luke smiled faintly, dodging the point.
“My family left Westeros quite some years ago, and I’ve only recently returned to seek opportunities.
As for business, it’s rather varied, but I mostly deal in…
rare commodities.”
Seeing he would get nothing more out of Luke, Quenn stopped pressing and enthusiastically began pitching his house.
“My estate is right on Rhaenys’ Hill—the location is simply unbeatable!
Peaceful yet central, and the security is among the best in King’s Landing.
The courtyard is vast, and the main manor is a two-story stone-and-timber structure with spacious, bright rooms.
I even hired artisans from Myr to do the interior back then!
The furniture and decorations alone cost me…”
He babbled on, praising the house to the high heavens, before finally stating a figure: “…So, though I am loath to part with it, seeing how sincere you are about buying, five thousand Gold Dragons.
Flat price!
Absolutely worth every copper!”
Five thousand Gold Dragons?
Luke didn’t even blink.
He merely shook his head slightly and took a sip of his ale.
“Mr.
Carter, my budget is only one thousand Gold Dragons.”
The smile froze on Quenn’s face, replaced instantly by an exaggerated expression of distress.
“One thousand Gold Dragons?
That…
that’s not even half!
Mr.
Jackeneen, you might not know this, but my initial investment in that estate was far more than that—ten times as much!”
“And, to be frank, even our Master of Coin, Lord Petyr Baelish, sent men to inquire about the price before, offering three thousand Gold Dragons!
But I couldn’t bear to sell it then…
If it weren’t for some urgent business trouble in Pentos that requires immediate cash flow, I would never…”
Petyr Baelish?
Littlefinger?
Luke’s interest was piqued.
The house had actually caught the attention of “Littlefinger,” the man who loved to stir the pot from behind the scenes?
Though it was hard to tell if Quenn was telling the truth, it undoubtedly added to the property’s “story” and potential value.
Bronn had really found something out of the ordinary this time.
He showed no signs of being intimidated or enticed by Littlefinger’s name, merely saying calmly, “Lord Baelish’s offer of three thousand Gold Dragons is his business.
My budget is one thousand.
However…”
He paused and set down his cup.
“If the house is truly as you describe—if the location, size, and condition satisfy me—I am willing to go up to…
four thousand Gold Dragons.
And I need to view the property immediately.”
Quenn’s eyes lit up instantly.
Jumping from one thousand to four thousand was still short of his initial asking price, but it was a highly sincere offer, especially given his urgent need for cash and the immediate viewing.
He rubbed his hands together, feigning reluctance, and sighed.
“Ah…
four thousand…
though I’m still taking quite a loss, seeing how straightforward you are, and since Bronn introduced us…
Very well!
Let’s go see the house right now!
If you’re satisfied, we can close the deal today!”
Striking a quick chord, the two set off immediately, with Bronn naturally following close behind.
The streets of Rhaenys’ Hill were much cleaner and wider than those of Flea Bottom and Cobbler’s Square, and the air was no longer quite so unbearable.
Quenn’s estate was situated on a relatively quiet side street, enclosed by tall stone walls.
Pushing open the heavy, iron-banded wooden gate, Luke was surprised by the layout.
It was somewhat reminiscent of a variation of the traditional courtyard homes from Blue Star’s Dragon Country, though on a much grander scale.
The entire estate spanned an estimated area of over a thousand square meters, split into front and back sections.
The front courtyard was spacious.
To the left was a stable and feed room large enough to house four horses.
To the right was a patch of packed dirt, resembling a small martial arts arena or training ground, with weapon racks set along the edge.
Against the wall stood a row of low stone houses, which looked like they could easily accommodate thirty or forty guards or servants.
Passing through a gate into the backyard, things became much more peaceful.
There was a small but well-kept garden planted with some hardy shrubs and flowers.
The main structure was a two-and-a-half-story stone-and-timber manor, flanked by several smaller outbuildings.
The manor contained eight rooms of varying sizes, including a spacious master bedroom with its own luxurious private bath, an elegantly decorated parlor, a dining room, a kitchen, a storeroom, and everything else one might need.
Although the decor was rustic—even somewhat rudimentary to Luke’s Blue Star sensibilities—and the furniture fell far short of “luxurious,” the estate’s redeeming qualities were its massive size, sensible layout, complete amenities, and high walls, which offered excellent privacy and security.
More importantly, it was clean, free of foul odors, and seemed to have far fewer pests.
“So, what do you think, Mr.
Jackeneen?
I didn’t exaggerate, did I?”
Quenn asked, a mix of pride and urgency in his voice.
“These walls, this location, this house…
for four thousand Gold Dragons, you are getting an absolute bargain!
Once winter hits Westeros, the price of this house will more than double…”
Luke was indeed very satisfied.
This was far better than the temporary lodgings he had anticipated.
It perfectly met his requirements for establishing a secure, concealed base capable of housing a decent number of men.
“It’ll do.”
He nodded, without showing too much excitement.
“We’ll take it.
Four thousand Gold Dragons.
Can we finalize the paperwork today?”
“Yes!
Of course!” Quenn was overjoyed.
“I’ve even brought the deed of transfer!
As soon as the payment is made, I will sign and seal it immediately, then we can register it at the Tower of the Hand, and this estate is yours!
Now, regarding…
the payment?”
Luke did not pull out gold coins directly.
Instead, he retrieved two bamboo canisters carved with elegant cursive writing from his satchel.
One canister of Mithril Salt and one of Velvet Snow were placed onto the stone table in the center of the courtyard.
“Mr.
Carter, take a look at these first.”
Perplexed, Quenn opened the canisters.
At Luke’s gesture, he sampled the salt and sugar.
Instantly, his businessman’s face registered the exact same shock and ecstasy that Carlos had shown that morning.
“By the Gods!
This…
this is…”
“Mithril Salt and Velvet Snow.
As you can see,” Luke repeated his cover story.
“A gift from a lost land.
In King’s Landing, a single canister is worth ten Gold Dragons.
And even then, it’s virtually unobtainable.”
Quenn stared fixedly at the two bamboo canisters, his breathing heavy.
But his merchant instincts quickly took over, and he began calculating.
“Ten Gold Dragons a canister…
two canisters is twenty, four is forty…
Mr. Follow the newest chapters on novelping.com.
Jackeneen, these are indeed exquisite goods, but this…
is a far cry from four thousand Gold Dragons!”
Luke chuckled without replying, merely clapping his hands lightly.
Bronn, who had been waiting nearby, immediately turned and walked out of the courtyard gate.
A moment later, he returned carrying two bulging sacks made of some strange, smooth fabric, setting them down on the stone table with a heavy thud.
Quenn eyed the unfamiliar material of the sacks with curiosity.
At Luke’s gesture, he untied the openings.
Glistening, snow-white salt and sugar as fine as sand shimmered with an alluring luster in the setting sun—two full sacks of them!
“Each sack here is equivalent to two hundred or more of the small canisters you just tasted!”
Luke’s voice was calm, yet it carried immense impact.
“Two sacks.
By market value, they are worth no less than five thousand Gold Dragons.”
Quenn’s mouth fell open so wide it could have fit an egg.
With trembling hands, he scooped up a handful of sugar, then a handful of salt.
He examined them closely, smelled them, and even tasted them again, confirming that these two massive sacks were filled entirely with that unbelievable, top-tier quality!
Immense joy swept away his senses.
Five thousand Gold Dragons?
No!
If he marketed and sold these two sacks properly, their value would far exceed five thousand!
“D…
Deal!” Quenn practically roared, terrified that Luke would back out.
“The estate is yours!
The deed!
Let’s sign it right now!”
The transaction was finalized swiftly.
Luke carefully inspected the parchment deed of transfer, which was stamped and detailed the boundaries and ownership of the property.
Once satisfied, he watched Quenn and his guards frantically but ecstatically haul the two large sacks of sugar and salt onto the carriage waiting outside.
Before they departed, Luke stood at the entrance of his new estate.
Facing Quenn Carter, who was eager to leave, he spoke in a half-joking, half-serious tone, “Well then, Mr.
Carter, I won’t see you off.”
“I wish you…
smooth sailing with your business in Pentos.
Now, take your things and please leave my house.”
Quenn was startled for a moment, then burst into laughter.
He waved at Luke as the carriage wheels began to turn, quickly vanishing down the street as the twilight deepened.
Quiet settled over the courtyard, leaving only Luke and Bronn.
Bronn walked over to the stone table, looking at the stray grains of sugar scattered on its surface.
He touched a finger to some, popped it into his mouth, and savored it, his face showing a mix of pleasure and awe.
“A gift of The Seven…”
He smacked his lips, his gaze toward Luke growing even more complex.
“Luke, those two sacks of yours…
if played right, whether in King’s Landing or sent to Highgarden or Oldtown, could easily sell for fifteen or even twenty thousand Gold Dragons.
And you just…
traded them for this estate?”
Luke turned around, looking at the courtyard that now belonged to him, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.
“Bronn, the value of some things goes far beyond how many Gold Dragons they can fetch.”
He spoke slowly, his voice ringing crisp and clear in the twilight.
“A secure, stable stronghold that belongs entirely to me is, at times, far more important than twenty thousand Gold Dragons.”
“Besides, I have plenty more of these ‘gifts.'”
Bronn’s pupils contracted slightly.
He took a deep breath but ultimately said nothing.
“Go see to the ten guards you just hired,” Luke instructed.
“The stone houses by the stables should have more than enough room for them.
Tell them to guard the front courtyard well.
No one enters the backyard without my permission.
We are moving in today.”
“Yes, sir.”
Bronn took his orders, turning toward the front courtyard to organize his ten newly recruited men.
He patted the heavy purse inside his shirt; Luke had given him some extra operational funds and an advance on his salary this afternoon.
He glanced back once more at Luke, whose tall, mysterious silhouette stood framed in the center of the darkening courtyard.
This new employer was not only staggeringly wealthy, but his methods and ideas seemed to far surpass those of any ordinary merchant or disgraced noble.
Following him, perhaps…
he really could make a fortune, rather than just earning a bodyguard’s wages.
Bronn licked his lips, a spark of the opportunist and survivalist flashing in his eyes.
He walked briskly toward the front courtyard, where ten handpicked, hungry recruits were waiting for their captain to assign tasks—and, more importantly, to hand out their highly anticipated first wages.
Darkness silently enveloped King’s Landing, shrouding the newly transferred Carter Estate, a place destined to know no peace.
No, now it was the Luke Estate.