WMK 138

Chapter 138 Talent is Scarce

The soft candlelight illuminated every corner of the hall at Wayfarer's Rest. Vases of flowers placed in the corners filled the air with a faint, delicate fragrance.

The wall opposite the main door was hung with the quartered banners of House Vance: the black dragon taking flight on a white field, and the golden eye within its ring gazing upon the world from a black field.

The hall, which had initially seemed somewhat shabby, now appeared considerably more refined after being decorated.

The feast was sumptuous, with flagons filled with fine wine and tables laden with delicacies. Singers moved among the guests, performing cheerful ballads. The atmosphere seemed lively, yet a hint of unresolved anxiety lingered in the air.

After several rounds of drinks, William and the acting castellan, Liane, exchanged polite courtesies on the dais. Then William stood and loudly announced the news that reinforcements were gathering at Harrenhal and would march soon.

It was as if the gloom lifted instantly. The men raised their cups in cheers, the ladies shrieked with excitement, and even the musicians' playing seemed to gain newfound vigor. The atmosphere immediately reached a crescendo.

Even though he had heard it that afternoon, hearing the news again pleased Dafon. His displeasure at Liane overriding his objections and committing their forces also faded considerably.

After sitting down, William shared another drink with Liane beside him.

A faint blush colored the acting castellan's cheeks, and a slight smile graced her lips, making her appear much softer. Yet her gaze remained firm and substantial, shimmering with unshakable conviction.

"Your capacity for drink, Ser, is as impressive as your battle record," Liane's voice was mellifluous. Even when angry, William found her voice pleasant, but hearing her speak softly like this pleased him both mentally and physically.

Before this, over a dozen knights had come to toast William, and he had refused none, draining his cup each time.

"Compared to your beauty, this wine is hardly enough to cause intoxication," William complimented. And her voice was incredibly pleasing, which added considerable points.

Liane smiled slightly, neither accepting nor rejecting the praise.

She changed the subject. "Are the Others truly fearsome? I've read the letters from Castle Black. To be honest, I find it rather difficult to believe."

"Believe me, my lady. The Others are more terrifying than any enemy, because they desire no treasure, no land, nothing... except for one thing."

"What?"

"Life. They seek to extinguish all living things, until the entire world enters an eternal Long Night."

"Can the Wall hold them back?"

"It should, provided the Night's Watch receives sufficient support. You haven't seen the Wall, have you?" William described the magnificent grandeur of the Wall to her.

"How I envy Lady Margaery. I would truly love to see it," Liane said, her thoughts drifting with longing.

Hearing Margaery's name, William couldn't help but think of that rose which bloomed so vibrantly in both high summer and harsh winter. A fleeting image of her captivating face crossed his mind, and a smile touched his lips.

Both lost in their own thoughts for a moment, William recovered and said, "The Wall now faces threats from wildlings and the Others. It's not a suitable place for travel."

"Even without wildlings and the Others, I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to get away," Liane sighed, revealing an expression that perfectly matched her voice – truly evoking pity, though it lasted only for a brief moment.

The banquet continued noisily.

William, who preferred an approachable style, naturally didn't act like other lords who only sat arrogantly on the dais. After drinking with the important figures near him, he took his cup and descended from the dais, making his way from table to table.

He had defeated the fearless Barristan the Bold in the tourney and triumphed over the hellish demon that was the Mountain on the battlefield – he was practically the embodiment of the Warrior himself. At this critical juncture, with Edmure captured and Riverrun besieged, Harrenhal had stepped up to turn the tide. After this war, House Whent's influence in the Riverlands, and indeed the entire Seven Kingdoms, would rise significantly, and he was the heir to Harrenhal.

With these two dazzling halos above his head, everyone below the dais felt immensely honored by William's presence, albeit to varying degrees.

At one table, William became acquainted with the family of Lord Smallwood of Acorn Hall. There was the large-framed yet kindly-looking Ser Theomar; the capable and efficient Lady Ravella, who had a distinct maternal air; and their daughter, Carellen, a shy maiden lovely as a lotus flower emerging from water.

The Smallwoods were bannermen to House Vance, but they were only passing through Wayfarer's Rest this time. Theomar was escorting his daughter Carellen to Stoney Sept. From there, Carellen would take a boat to King's Landing, and then another ship from King's Landing to Oldtown.

Officially, she was going to care for her elderly great-aunt who resided in Oldtown, but William naturally understood the real situation.

The flames of war in the Riverlands were spreading gradually from west to east. The Westerland armies were burning and pillaging everywhere, terrifying the smallfolk and driving them from their homes. The fates of Woodhull and Pinkmaiden had filled the nobles with shock, anger, and a pervasive sense of insecurity. Theomar wanting to send his daughter to a safer place was indeed understandable.

William chatted amiably with Theomar and his family, speaking of the sights and bustle of Oldtown: the majestic Hightower, the solemn Starry Sept, the Honeywine, the great stone bridge... It was both a narration and a recollection for him.

The young girl, Carellen, listened enthralled, gazing at William dreamily. Her long eyelashes fluttered, and her eyes seemed to sparkle with little stars, full of anticipation for Oldtown.

Next to the Smallwoods' long table sat a large group of female guests. Just as William was hesitating whether to approach them, the youngest of the three sisters, Emphyria, walked over with elegant, unhurried steps.

Her long, curly hair was loosely tied up with a pure white lace ribbon. She wore a strapless purple gown, her beautiful collarbones subtly visible. Her fair skin and the gemstones on the necklace at her throat shimmered under the candlelight.

As she drew closer, William caught the faint, captivating scent of violet perfume.

"It's a bit stuffy in the hall. I'd like to get some air. I wonder if the Ser would have the pleasure of accompanying me for a walk in the garden?"

It was clear the young lady had prepared carefully, but William was inwardly amused.

'How can you win hearts without ample bosoms?'

Emphyria was probably a bit younger than Margaery or around the same age. She was a budding beauty, but unfortunately she hadn't blossomed at all yet, still resembling an unripe, sour plum.

That afternoon, William had made some discreet inquiries and learned that this youngest sister was actually a prodigious academic genius. She had started reading and studying at three or four. By ten, her arithmetic skills made the maester of Wayfarer's Rest feel ashamed. By fourteen, no one in the entire Vance family knew what she was reading about anymore.

However, what William found even more commendable was her remarkable initiative and drive. To prove the feasibility of sheltering the refugees, she had worked almost day and night for several days, running all over the castle and nearby villages with a few maids and guards to produce that report.

Such a practical, action-oriented talent made William's mouth water.

"The honor is mine," William said very gallantly, offering his arm. The gifted young lady smiled with satisfaction and lightly took it.

The moon's pure light flowed like water through the garden, all flowers, plants, and trees seeming veiled in a misty gauze, hazy and indistinct. The fragrance of blossoms permeated the air, and unknown insects chirped softly in the grass. A gravel path, faintly discernible, wound away into the distance at their feet.

The two walked and chatted in the warm night air, facing the gentle breeze. Though they had just met, their extensive reading provided many common topics.

The prodigious young lady was knowledgeable, clever, and quick-witted. William felt secretly grateful; if not for the reading experience of two lifetimes, he truly wouldn't have been able to hold his own.

William subtly instilled some feminist ideas in Emphyria, mainly about gender equality, concerning careers, work, and the like. He wanted to lure her to Harrenhal, nurture her – she would make an excellent executive assistant. With enough experience, becoming a CEO and reaching the pinnacle of life wouldn't be out of the question.

Emphyria, meanwhile, was subtly promoting herself to William, trying her best to present herself as virtuous, gentle, capable, and wise – both competent and... compliant.

Just as William was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed, he heard hurried footsteps behind him. Turning, he saw the acting castellan walking towards them, her face like frost.