Night came earlier to Westeros than to Blue Star.
As the sun sank into the mountains across the Blackwater River, darkness quickly enveloped King’s Landing.
Inside Luke’s new mansion, candlelight flickered in the dining room—or at least, it should have.
Yet at this moment, the spacious stone-and-timber dining room was illuminated as brightly as day.
Or rather, by a steady, gentle “pseudo-daylight” that the people of this era had never seen before.
The light source did not come from the expensive whale-oil sconces or torches on the walls, but from a “magic lamp” in the center of the dining table—simple and bizarre in shape, casting a steady, bright glow without a single flame.
It was an LED rechargeable desk lamp Luke had brought from Blue Star.
When he had casually taken it out of his bag before dinner and clicked the switch, everyone in the dining room—no, the entire back courtyard who witnessed it—fell into a moment of dazed silence, followed by immense horror and awe.
The soft yet intensely bright light drove away the shadows from every corner, making the colors of the food vibrant as never before.
Every face was clearly visible, and even the air seemed to change because of this “light.”
“By the Seven!”
Standing behind Luke to serve him, the sisters Anne and Emma covered their mouths almost simultaneously, letting out suppressed gasps.
Their sky-blue eyes were wide and round, filled with awe and reverence.
Carola, who was walking in with a bowl of soup, trembled so hard she almost spilled the thick broth.
Her gorgeous face was a picture of disbelief, her red lips slightly parted and forgetting to close.
Seated at Luke’s right hand, Arthur—the widely traveled former steward from Myr—had his pupils contract violently as his fingers subconsciously gripped the rough wooden armrests of his chair.
His lips moved soundlessly, seemingly praying to a god from Essos he knew.
Seated on the left, Bronn had the most direct and exaggerated reaction.
He snapped upright from his chair with such violence that he nearly flipped the table over, his eyes locked onto the desk lamp as if he were watching a dragon breathe fire.
“Luke!
What…
what the hell is this?!
A divine artifact?!
Or…
magic?!”
Bronn’s voice cracked with excitement and alarm.
He pointed at the desk lamp and then looked at Luke, his usual cynical demeanor replaced by a mixture of fear, greed, and extreme curiosity.
A heavy silence fell over the dining room, broken only by the sound of everyone’s ragged breathing.
Luke remained calm, as if he had merely lit an ordinary oil lamp.
He picked up a piece of bread and slowly spread butter on it, his tone casual yet carrying unquestionable certainty:
“Just a little toy.
A collaboration between dwarf craftsmen and elven mages…
you could call it a magical item.
Very rare, and very fragile.”
“A magical item…”
Arthur muttered, staring at the unbelievably steady light with complex eyes.
“My lord, such a treasure…
if the Alchemists’ Guild or the archmaesters of the Citadel knew of this, they would go mad!
And the septons of the Faith of the Seven would likely view it as a miracle…
or heresy.”
Bronn had sat back down, but his gaze remained glued to the desk lamp.
Hearing this, he let out a scoff: “More than just go mad!
If this thing were offered to King Robert, just for bringing a ‘Sun of the Night,’ a rich fiefdom would definitely be guaranteed!”
“Luke, you sure have a hell of a lot of ways to get rich!”
Luke glanced at Bronn, his eyes plain yet laced with pressure.
“Bronn, your task is to protect me and everything I own.
If someone gets greedy because of this lamp and tries to snatch it…
that only proves you’re useless.
And useless men don’t deserve my Gold Dragons.”
The grin on Bronn’s face stiffened for a moment before returning to his usual shameless smirk.
He shrugged.
“Rest easy, my lord.
As long as the Gold Dragons keep coming, I’ll guard your ‘Sun of the Night’ with my life.
Though…”
He lowered his voice, teasing slightly, “You’ve got some nerve pulling a thing like that out to use.”
“Just enjoying myself now and then,” Luke said casually, his eyes sweeping across the varied expressions in the room.
After all, there’s only one ‘Sun of the Night,’ but there might be plenty of people eyeing it.”
It was both a reminder and a warning.
Arthur bowed immediately.
“Rest assured, my lord.
Our lips are sealed.”
Anne and Emma nodded repeatedly, their small faces full of solemnity.
Carola curtsied gracefully, signaling her understanding.
Bronn merely gave a pair of dry chuckles.
The tension relaxed slightly, and everyone began their meal.
Luke only ate a little.
The roast meat was slightly overcooked, the spices in the thick soup were a chaotic mess, and the bread remained coarse.
Even seasoned with Mithril Salt and Velvet Snow, the food tasted merely passable—far inferior to standard Blue Star takeout.
He sighed inwardly, thinking it a tragic waste of pure, natural ingredients.
Bronn, however, wolfed down his food, full of praise: “Damn, this salt is incredible stuff!
Makes the roast meat twice as fragrant!
The soup is fresh as hell, too!”
He even tried dipping a pork chop into some melted sugar sauce, smacking his lips in delight and declaring it absolute bliss.
Luke observed this and instructed Arthur beside him: “Arthur, tomorrow take five jin of Mithril Salt and five jin of Velvet Snow from the inventory and hand them to Carola for kitchen use.
Everyone in the household may use them for meals.
Come to me for more when you run out.”
A flicker of surprise crossed Arthur’s eyes, quickly turning to gratitude.
“Yes, my lord.
You are most generous.”
To supply such “precious” seasonings for all servants and guards was an extraordinarily rare act of generosity.
Even the bankers of the Free Cities probably didn’t have that kind of bold extravagance.
Bronn raised an eyebrow and said nothing, though he chewed with noticeably more vigor.
These small favors were necessary investments to buy hearts and build loyalty.
Dinner ended in a strange luminescence and a somewhat constrained atmosphere.
Luke instructed Anne and Emma to prepare hot water; he wanted a bath.
The bathhouse in the main house was considered luxurious for this era.
A pool built from smooth stone, large enough to hold four or five people, had running water piped in and kept warm through a copper pipe system.
Luke stood by the pool as the two blonde, blue-eyed girls kept their heads down, cheeks flushing slightly as they stepped forward to help him undress.
He said nothing, letting them proceed.
A strange feeling stirred within him as he experienced the daily privilege of this era’s elite firsthand.
Rough yet clean linen towels, bathwater scented with soapberry, and the careful service of two pretty girls…
It was a stark contrast to his past life on Blue Star, cooped up in a rented room and doing everything himself.
Just as Emma’s small hand trembled while unbuttoning the last fastener of his outer tunic, and Luke prepared to step into the bath, rustling fabric sounded beside him.
Luke turned instinctively and froze in dumbfounded shock.
Anne was actually unfastening the laces of her own simple maid dress!
Her neckline had already loosened, exposing a patch of fair, delicate skin and exquisite collarbones that dazed the eyes under the steam and LED light.
She kept her head lowered, long eyelashes trembling, her cheeks flushed bright red.
Though her movements were awkward, they carried a desperate resolve.
“What are you doing?!”
Luke stepped back abruptly, his voice raised an octave in shock.
Startled by his reaction, Anne froze, raising her teary blue eyes.
Her voice trembled through choked sobs:
“M-My lord…
I…
I am serving you in your bath…
I…
I am willing…
I only beg you…
only beg you to treat Emma well…
don’t…
don’t send her to the Street of Silk…”
By the end, she had dissolved into weeping.
Beside her, Emma’s pretty face was also flushed red, eyes filled with tears—a mix of heartache for her sister and a resigned, timid shame.
Biting her lip, she actually reached out to unfasten her own dress strings as well.
“Stop!
Luke’s head throbbed.
He rushed forward—not to embrace them, but to grab both girls by the shoulders, gently pushing them back.
He pulled Anne’s loosened collar shut and said sternly, “Get dressed!
Who told you to do this?”
Frightened by his strict tone, the two girls stood frozen, at a total loss, silently shedding tears.
Luke took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, and explained: “Listen, Anne, Emma.
I hired you to be maids—to serve tea, pour water, wash clothes, clean, and pass messages.
That’s it.
I’m not some rich merchant who needs maids to warm his bed, nor am I a nobleman with weird fetishes.
Understand?”
“I don’t need, nor do I allow, you to provide…
*that* kind of service.”
Emma timidly raised her head, looking at Luke with wet, wide eyes.
Her voice was as faint as a mosquito’s hum, yet carried this era’s female perception of a “personal maid’s” duties: “But…
my lord…
personal maids…
are supposed to serve their master in the bath, change his clothes, and…
and warm his bed when he needs…”
Luke was rendered speechless.
He knew high society in Westeros was corrupt and that personal servants often doubled as sexual partners, but hearing and seeing it in person still left him somewhat ill-adapted.
“Those are other people’s rules,” Luke said decisively.
“Here with me, I make the rules.
You only need to handle the chores I assign.
Don’t even think about doing anything else you shouldn’t.”
Seeing the lingering confusion and disbelief in their eyes, Luke knew empty words wouldn’t convince them.
With a flicker of thought, he retrieved a small packet of rock sugar wrapped in oiled paper from his storage space and handed it to Anne, who was closest to him.
“Taste this.
It’s called ‘Ice Crystal Honey.’ Consider it…
a treat to calm your nerves.”
Anne timidly took it.
Together with Emma, she carefully opened the paper wrapper and gasped in surprise at the translucent, crystal-like granules inside.
At Luke’s gesture, they touched a bit with their fingertips and put it in their mouths.
An intensely pure sweetness instantly melted on their tongues—cooler and more refreshing than Velvet Snow, carrying a strange, soul-soothing sweetness.
Though the tear tracks on their faces hadn’t dried, the sudden sweetness made them temporarily forget their fear and sorrow.
In unison, they showed child-like expressions of pleasant surprise, their small tongues unconsciously licking their lips.
Luke looked at them, his tone softening, though still carrying an unquestionable majesty: “Also, remember this.
The second floor of the main house is my private area, an absolute off-limits zone.
Without my permission, no one—including the two of you—is allowed up there.”
“At night, after I go upstairs to rest, no matter what sounds you hear or what happens, you are not permitted to come up and disturb me.
Even if the sky falls, wait until the next day.”
“This rule applies to everyone in the household.
Whoever violates it will regret ever coming into this world.
Do you understand?”
Anne was still absentmindedly savoring the residual taste of the Ice Crystal Honey, nodding mindlessly at his words.
Emma, meanwhile, carefully rewrapped the remaining rock sugar while raising those blue eyes inherited from her mother’s beauty, giving Luke a deep, searching look.
In that look was gratitude, confusion, and a lingering caution that hadn’t entirely vanished—but there also seemed to be an indescribable…
urge to pry.
This young, wealthy, mysterious master who possessed the Sun of the Night and countless rare treasures, yet seemed completely different from any noble lord they had ever known…
What kind of person was he really?
Luke said no more, waving his hand to dismiss them to guard outside the bathroom door.
He then stepped into the warm bath, immersing his body in the water, and let out a long sigh of relief.
Establishing a base and recruiting people was only the first step.
How to manage these people, establish authority, cultivate genuine and effective loyalty and order, while carefully hiding his secrets and balancing the resources and risks between two worlds…
There was still a long way to go.
Outside the bathroom door, Emma carefully pinched the precious packet of Ice Crystal Honey, her eyes involuntarily drifting toward the hazy silhouette in the pool once again, her mind churning with unprecedented thoughts.
Beside her, the somewhat dorky Anne was focused entirely on sucking on the sweet rock sugar in her mouth.