Inside the Lions Den, in the Lord's bedroom, candlelight flickered, stretching and distorting the shadows of Arthur and Evelyn onto the cold walls.
A subtly strange atmosphere, like a taut rope, permeated the air.
Arthur surveyed the windowless bedroom deep within the mountain. Although he didn't have claustrophobia, perhaps the atmosphere of the bedroom was off, making him feel greatly suppressed. It seemed he would have to open up an open-air bedroom in a high wall on the outer perimeter.
After the meeting, Evelyn had been following him, but Arthur was never alone. Either Lucien or Hakon would come to report,
or Brin, who had become the Lions Den's blacksmith, would come to report, causing her sapphire-like eyes to be filled with unspoken words.
Now, with no one else present, she finally spoke, her voice carrying a hint of suppressed urgency:
"Little Suleiman, we must talk about the pensions."
"Speak," Arthur said, settling into a chair with unhurried movements. Evelyn always liked to add a "Little" to his name in private settings. "Ten silver stags are too much for one family," Evelyn walked up to him, her golden hair shimmering in the candlelight. "And they must also be supported quarterly until the children are sixteen years old."
"If war comes, our burden will grow heavier and heavier, and our treasury will quickly be emptied. This is a completely… unnecessary expense."
Evelyn chose her words carefully, trying to make her questioning sound more like rational financial advice.
"We can substitute with goods and remove the pension, for example, giving them enough grain to survive quarterly. This would save a lot."
Arthur remained noncommittal, placing his hands on the table with a soft thud.
Although from a financial perspective, this was indeed the most reasonable way to manage expenditures, Arthur did not answer directly. His gaze passed over Evelyn and landed on the newly laid carpet in the room.
It was a luxurious carpet from Dorne, woven with intricate exotic patterns, so soft that one's feet would sink into it up to the ankles.
"Then, Evelyn, tell me," Arthur began calmly, his voice exceptionally clear in the quiet room, "Is buying this carpet a waste?"
His hand then pointed to some valuable decorations and expensive wine vessels hanging on the wall.
Arthur didn't look at her, but his heart was bleeding. This carpet alone cost him over ten gold dragons, and with the other valuable decorations, the expenditure was already enough to support the children of those hundred fallen soldiers' families until adulthood.
But he didn't blame Evelyn, because he had entrusted the finances to her. He only urged the treasurer, Barna, to return quickly in his heart.
Originally, in his opinion, the treasurer, Barna, was already too stingy and unsuitable for the position. He even haggled with the common people over a single copper coin's wage! Now he was nicknamed "the Miser"! He had even ruined his own reputation.
Evelyn followed his pointing finger and gaze, her expression subtly changing. This question seemed to flip a switch within Evelyn, as if she felt Arthur was blaming her for being extravagant with money.
She was truly unappreciative of his good intentions. She retorted somewhat angrily, "This is different! This is necessary!"
Her tone rose, carrying a hint of offended agitation.
"A noble lord's castle, if it looks like a poor farmhouse, will be looked down upon by other nobles!"
"They will think you have no strength, no foundation!"
"Reputation and honor sometimes deter enemies more than an army! This is part of a lord's prestige!"
Arthur listened, then slowly shook his head. He turned and walked in front of Evelyn, forcing her to meet his gaze. His eyes were burning, full of aggression, compelling the woman to lower her head.
He took a step closer, the distance between them shrinking to where their breaths could be heard:
"Evelyn, remember my words."
"The softness of a carpet can only be felt by a few, but the weight of a pension can support a broken family."
"The lavishness of wall decorations will only be mocked by visiting enemies, but soldiers who know their families have land and their wives and children are well will shed their last drop of blood for me on the battlefield."
He paused, seemingly waiting for every word to sink into Evelyn's ears.
"When people willingly draw their swords for me, that is true reputation and honor."
Arthur's tone was calm, yet it carried an undeniable force.
"The prestige you speak of is a castle built on sand."
"And the loyalty I speak of is a cornerstone built in people's hearts."
Arthur pointed to the luxurious Dornish carpet, turning Evelyn's body to face it.
"One day, you will see that my investment in people's hearts will yield far greater returns than these ephemeral things."
Evelyn said nothing. She opened her mouth but found she couldn't utter a single word, though not because she agreed with Arthur's views.
Born into nobility, the education she received from childhood told her that prestige came from bloodline, wealth, and displays of power. The common people were the foundation, but a foundation that could be replaced at any time.
Evelyn looked at the young man before her, wondering who had taught this small noble of Westeros such rebellious ideas.
How could the rules of Westeros, established over thousands of years, change just by saying so?
Farmers... in the deeply ingrained beliefs of her family's education, they were narrow-minded, greedy, dirty, always insatiable, let alone capable of giving back.
Arthur was ultimately from a small noble background, she thought, which was why he held such naive fantasies.
Arthur saw the struggle and confusion in her eyes. In his view, enemies would only mock spending gold dragons on luxurious decorations, so he didn't give her much time to think.
He turned and walked towards the council hall, and Evelyn instinctively followed him.
"We have more important things to do." Arthur's voice pulled her back from her chaotic thoughts. He stood in the center of the council hall, candlelight illuminating his resolute profile. He proposed a decree that struck her as even more preposterous.
"Starting tomorrow, a new hygiene decree will be enacted within the territory."
Evelyn raised an eyebrow. A hygiene decree?
Arthur gestured for Evelyn to take out parchment and a quill to record his words.
"First, all drinking water must be boiled and cooled before consumption, or drawn from upstream sources. No one is allowed to drink raw or contaminated water directly."
"Second, every residential area must have designated disposal points, far from water sources and dwellings. All human waste and food scraps must be centrally processed and not disposed of haphazardly."
"Third, public toilets must be built and regularly cleaned."
Evelyn's sapphire-like eyes widened, her face full of confusion.
"You're going to regulate how they drink water?" she blurted out, her tone full of absurdity. Although she knew the importance of hygiene and preventing plagues, she had never heard of any lord using a decree to regulate how their people drank water…
Leaving aside whether the lords of Westeros had the reach or practicality to enforce such rules, the common people of Westeros, and even many small nobles, would simply cup water from a river when thirsty…
Arthur rubbed his eyes and smiled. Regulations had to be put in place now, while the population was small, to create a lasting mindset. Otherwise, once there were more people, how could he manage it? It would truly become a city full of filth, like in the Middle Ages.
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