Jaehaerys never ceased to be amazed by the growth of the weirwood tree. It grew three feet in a week and thickened to the girth of two men. One man, if you counted Wyman Manderly. Daenerys sat on a bench around the weirwood tree. Thousands of men were working on the foundations. By that point, they had already demolished one of the five towers, the King's Pyre Tower. It was the furthest from where he and Daenerys were staying. It suffered the most from Balerion's fire, as it was the tower where Harren and his family used to live.
It would be the only tower whose foundations he could use. He wanted to start building the new tower so they could move in as soon as possible. He had already sent letters to Viserys asking for volcanic ash. Dragonstone was one of the few places in Westeros where he could find it. The valley probably had volcanoes, but he had never heard of any.
"I hear you fired Ros," in the last days, Dany had ordered a fence to be built around the weirwood tree. Some followers of the faith were unhappy with the tree, although there were no septons in Harrenhal. Religions were mixed there.
None of them did anything, either out of respect for their lords or out of fear of them.
There were several wooden benches by the fence, also at the princess's request. The girl liked to read by the weirwood tree. For now, she used a parasol, but she hoped that when the tree grew, its leaves would protect her from the sun.
"She'll be back soon," Jaehaerys sighed.
From where he stood, he could see the workers digging. Others were preparing the two towers closest to the central tower for demolition. The most critical workers were laying the foundations for the two central towers. There was a distance of four and fifty feet between these towers. The prince planned to build the library between them. Both towers would be five hundred feet high. The library would be one hundred and fifty feet high, allowing a view over the monstrous walls of Harrenhal.
He would connect the two towers using a bridge-like structure. The connection would begin 120 feet above the ground, forming an arch between the two structures. It would be built on top of this joint until the floor was level. He planned to create a balcony outside. He would use large windows to separate the library from the balcony. These windows would have exits, although they would generally be closed. He planned to build stairs outside the towers, but he was still undecided; he didn't want his future children to fall down them. He also didn't want to give the killers a direct entry point.
"I like her. She apologized and told me why she made me act that way," the princess turned a page in a book on her lap.
"Would you share that with me?" He glanced at the book. It was about water, focusing on its ways to harness its movement. She had spent the last few weeks with her nose in books about dragons, but he had ordered her not to take them out of their chambers. They were kept in a locked chest.
"No," she bit her cheek. "It's private," she said, hoping he would leave her alone.
"Then you don't know your wife as well as you think you do," he remembered Ros's words from the day before.
"Would you like something from the garden?" he decided to change the subject.
"A lake," she replied quickly. She closed the book. "The arbor tree is right in the center. I want the paths to be built around the edges. Near the walls, maybe thirty feet away, ditches would be dug and filled with bricks and then clay. These would connect to the small lakes," she seemed to be thinking on the fly.
"Lakes?" She changed the number instantly. That told him that she hadn't given the garden any thought.
"Yes, two lakes. I want them to be connected underground," she wrinkled her forehead as she thought. "A path will be built from the entrance, which will fork to the sides of the weirwood and then rejoin to pass between the two central towers. That's why you want to build the library up high, isn't it?" The girl looked him in the eyes.
"Yes. Besides, I thought you'd like to see everything from above. You'll get used to it by the time we get to ride dragons," he said quietly, making her laugh.
"Then it's too low..." she said. "Raise it to two hundred and fifty feet. Is that possible?" she asked.
"Yes, it's possible." Using the bricks with runes, he could build structures worthy of Minecraft. He didn't do it because the weirwoods were a weak point in the castle. "I want to build water channels around the weirwood. Leave an area of one hundred feet between the tree and those channels. They'll be wide. The weirwood will be connected to the roads by bridges," he told her. It would be a way to prevent anyone from accessing the tree. Having water nearby could help put out fires in case someone tried to burn it down. But he was planning in runes to protect it too.
"Sounds good. It would give it more prominence," she nodded. "You said you had prepared a temporary house for us?" He had mentioned it a few days ago.
"A small mansion... it has low walls around it, and with the men guarding it, it will be safe," he told his wife. "It's more comfortable than the tower we currently live in," he added.
"Good. Have the men already started moving things?" she asked.
"Yes. They'll be done in a few hours. It's close to the goodswood," he looked at her. She nodded and remained silent.
The idea of building such a large castle was, first and foremost, for prestige, and secondly, to use it as a factory. He planned to divide the castle into two parts. One part would be where his family would live. The other part would be where goods would be produced, specifically those that needed to be kept secret. He preferred to keep them close by.
Of course, those that could be produced in that way. He couldn't put a shipyard inside. However, he could also establish distilleries for perfumes, alcohol, and oils, as well as glass blowers.
Those men worked on secrets he needed to keep close.
He wondered how Ros was doing. He had distilled the perfumes. He had hundreds more in reserve. They were fresh and innovative scents. Medieval perfumes tended to have an intense aroma that, to him, was unpleasant when you smelled it for a long time.
He also managed to create modern soaps with a pleasant scent. It was basic, but he had to start somewhere. His business in Essos would cause him problems if he introduced it to Westeros. Perhaps not immediately, but when the children of important people began to become addicted.
His idea was to innovate and establish his lands as a trading post. In time, with enough Drakkars, merchants could bring their goods down the river. No one had exploited the rivers in this way before.
Some traveled on small rafts, but they didn't have the carrying capacity of a ship.
"My prince," said a young man as he approached. He was chubby and not very agile. His cheeks were red and his forehead beaded with sweat. "Maester Qyburn sent me," said the boy.
Qyburn was cruel to send him as a messenger. However, it looks like the old man wanted to improve the boy's health. His obesity would kill him sooner or later.
"You are Samwell, aren't you?" asked the prince. "The son of Lord Tarly," he added.
"Yes, Your Highness," he bowed his head in reverence. "Or is it My Lord?" he asked in a thin voice.
"My brother allowed us to keep the title of prince. My wife and I," he said, pointing to the young woman beside him. She looked up from her book to greet Samwell.
"Lord Tarly," she said. To Sam's ears, it was the most beautiful melody he had ever heard. "Qyburn mentioned that you would be joining us to study," she said.
"Yes," the boy nodded enthusiastically.
"What message does Qyburn have for me?" Jaehaerys interrupted.
The prince's gaze made Samwell wonder if he had improperly looked at the princess. He was not a lustful man. But the princess was the most beautiful being he had ever seen.
"He said he already has the red liquid's performance," the maester gave him that message. But he didn't explain what the red liquid was; it seemed to be a secret.
"That's magnificent," said the prince. "Tell me, Sam. Do you know how to fight?" he asked with a smile.
"No, my prince, no," he hastened to say. "It has always been my weak point," he said nervously as he looked at the prince. He had heard about Darkstar. 'Two blows,' he thought. He was a little relieved not to see his weapon next to the prince. 'Oh, he would probably kill me with one punch,' he laughed nervously at his thoughts.
"You'll learn," the prince declared.
"I'm not a fi-" he was interrupted.
"I know," the prince said, looking at his chubby face. "I received a letter from your father. He wants me to make you a warrior." Lord Tarly had offered crops in exchange for taking his son as a ward. The boy was only a few years younger than him; it would be unusual, but not unheard of.
Barley was usually harvested on Lord Tarly's land. And right now, he needed it to make whiskey.
"My studies with the maester..." he began worriedly.
"They will not be interrupted," he said. "I don't want you to be a great warrior. Just a decent one," 'And don't die of obesity,' those words were too cruel to say. "If you don't accept, you'll have to go back to Horn Hill." He really wanted to keep him as a scholar to screw Tarly over. But he wasn't so stupid as not to see the benefits of getting the barley. He could start distilling whiskey. There weren't enough people on his lands to harvest it, not yet.
"I... I'll train," the boy scowled. His gaze was determined.
Jaehaerys remembered an animated cartoon from his previous world: Kung Fu Panda.
"Good, Torrhen will train you tomorrow. First, you need to lose some weight and build up your stamina. Get ready," the boy turned green and nodded before leaving.
'I'll turn you into a dragon warrior, Pomwell,' thought Jaehaerys. 'Oh, that was childish, right?'