The Mountain of Ice and Fire

Gregor looked at Ado Serrett with eyes full of gratitude and admiration.

But in Ado's eyes, this was nothing but pure humiliation.

Humiliation?

Yes, this was humiliation of the highest order.

Since he'd been transmigrated into this rather miserable world and become a noble, Gregor figured, if you're going to play the noble game, you might as well play it at the highest level. That included how you humiliate others.

A gift of two hundred gold dragons was already a hefty amount. After all, this was just an engagement, not a wedding.

Compared to jewelry and fine gems, Gregor much preferred cold hard gold dragons. Jewelry required appraisal and reselling. Gold dragons? Instantly spendable. Much more convenient.

And Ado Serrett had indeed been generous this time: pearls, rubies, emeralds, gold dragons, silk, rouge, it was all there.

Of course, Gregor was especially grateful to Lord Tywin for his unwitting help!

He accepted it all without shame.

Granted, it was Tywin who had conceived of replacing metal with wood in the realm's armory system, but that brilliant idea came only after seeing Gregor's chopsticks. Without those, there would've been no inspiration.

Gregor had merely thought chopsticks would be a stylish novelty for the nobility, a bit of flair in private. Who could've predicted that by the very next day, Lord Tywin and the court's mathematically-gifted maester would lock themselves in a room and calculate their way to a high-level policy reform like replacing ironware with wood? Incredible.

Gregor had to admit, Tywin's political prowess was truly something else.

Gregor's gaze moved to the burly man known as "Strongboar." Ser Lyle Crakehall. This man had lost fifty gold dragons to him, generously so.

Fifty gold dragons! 

From his memories, Gregor clearly remembered that when King Robert invited Eddard Stark to travel south from the North, they had camped along the shores of the Trident. Robert suggested a bit of gambling and asked Ned to join. Even with his rank as Warden of the North, the most Ned could wager was ten gold dragons. Even when Robert had his steward count the contents of Ned's private purse, there were only fifty gold dragons and a few coppers.

Only in the Westerlands could nobles throw around such wealth so casually.

Ser Lyle had lost fifty gold dragons to him. Gregor nodded toward him with gratitude.

This kind of "thank you" was something Gregor was happy to give away freely. He wasn't stingy.

True, refined humiliation was making your opponent seethe with rage inside, yet still forced to smile and bow in return.

Originally, this entire event had been a ploy to bait Ado Serrett into a trap, a cunning scheme to seize the gold-laden Goldenleaf Bay from House Serrett. Gregor was delighted that Ado had eagerly jumped in, and even launched a betting game that drew in half the Westerlands nobility, making Gregor a small fortune in the process.

Gregor didn't even need to calculate it on the spot, he had long since tallied it in his head: 321 gold dragons of pure profit. Dozens of nobles and young knights had participated. That was equivalent to 445,567 USD by Earth standards. Of course, that still didn't compare to the true tycoons back on Earth, but it was a substantial haul here.

Gregor was satisfied with Ado's generous gift. But Lord Tywin, it seemed, was not.

"Gregor, have you remembered all the items in Ser Ado's gift?"

"Yes, my lord."

"If anything is missing when the time comes, go to Lady Tyghe of Silverhill and ask for it." 

Tywin's tone was stern and serious, he was not joking. Tywin never joked. 

"Yes, my lord."

Ado Serrett's face flushed a deep red.

This was blatant, undisguised humiliation.

"Ser Lyle." Tywin continued calmly, "I know you are not your family's heir and therefore have no right to make binding commitments on your house's behalf. As the second son, you'll inherit neither land nor wealth. So tell me, why were you discussing gift-giving with Ser Ado?"

Though his tone was calm, it was clear that Tywin was angry.

Lord Crakehall, Lyle's father, knew trouble had arrived. His son had been caught lying, and Tywin had exposed it mercilessly. But knowing Tywin's temperament, he dared not speak up or defend his son.

Lyle stammered, speechless.

"Lyle, do you admit you lied?"

"Yes, my lord." Lyle dropped to one knee, overwhelmed with fear.

In Ado Serrett's mind, he had already killed Lyle seventeen or eighteen times. But with things as they were, he had no choice but to kneel as well and confess his lie to Tywin.

Tywin declared coldly:

"Today is my daughter's engagement. I've also announced three major policy reforms, so I'm in a good mood. Therefore, I'll let this pass, for now. But I won't forget it. If you two ever step out of line again, the punishment will be doubled."

Then he stood, casting a sweeping gaze over the gathered crowd.

"I'm going to visit my daughter in the Maester's Tower. If she's well enough, we'll hold the engagement ceremony this afternoon right here. Those of you without gifts, write an IOU. Ser Gregor, do you have any suggestions?"

Gregor admired Tywin's bluntness in asking for wedding gifts, it was the kind of brazenness that would be scorned on Earth, but here it was taken as perfectly natural. Gregor was determined to learn and surpass even his master.

"My lord, I can't wait to be engaged to Lady Jeyne." Gregor said solemnly.

"Good. When do you plan to marry her?"

Gregor always believed Tywin's cunning was just as natural and powerful as his political talent. Poor Jeyne, she'd probably be sobbing in the privy for days.

"Uh, in a month's time. Once the Westerland generals finish training their new formations, I'll marry Lady Jeyne."

"Very well. Since it's not far off, she won't return to Casterly Rock. She'll stay here in Casterly Keep until the wedding. After that, she's yours, take her back to Clegane's Keep."

"Yes, thank you, my lord." Gregor nodded solemnly. "My lord, you mentioned a land reward as well?"

"Indeed." Tywin said, waving his hand to signal the end of the meeting. As he descended the steps, he spoke to Gregor, "Your new fief will stretch from the current southern border of Clegane lands to the edge of the Swyft family's domain at Cornfield, and east to the Serrett of Silverhill. North and west borders remain unchanged. You'll receive twenty new households, send your steward with the census book to register them under Clegane."

"Yes, my lord."

Gregor respectfully watched Lord Tywin stride out of the council chamber, elated.

So this new land was essentially the unclaimed buffer zone between House Swyft of Cornfield, House Serrett of Silverhill, and House Clegane. It might look like worthless rocky hills, tangled thorns, and shallow streams, but it was vast.

Now, the Serrett gold mines sit just outside Clegane's new eastern border.

With such a long border, it would be easy to dig tunnels under and bend them slightly into the gold-rich veins, just like burrowing rats. The Serretts would never see it coming.

To others, this barren stretch of land had no value. But to Gregor?

It was pure gold.

He was absolutely thrilled.

As for Jeyne sobbing her eyes out in the privy?

Well, in this world, the Mountain's claim on her was entirely legitimate. This wasn't some act of brute force, it was all proper and legal.

And besides, love could always be cultivated.

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