With the wail of a newborn, Eddard Stark, the Duke of Winterfell, welcomed his fifth child.
Eddard Stark had black hair, gray eyes, and a beard that was beginning to gray, his expression as stern as the winter itself.
"My Lord, congratulations, it's a boy," the old nursemaid said happily, showing Eddard the swaddled infant.
Eddard held the baby, and the baby cried even louder.
Maester Luwin fiddled with the chain around his neck. "My Lord, have you decided on a name for the child?" Maester Luwin was thin, with gray eyes and hair.
Catelyn, lying on the birthing bed, had beautiful auburn hair, blue eyes, and long fingers. She smiled. "Eddard and I decided long ago. If it was a boy, we'd name him Rickon."
In a moment, Robb, Arya, Sansa, and Bran, who had been waiting outside the door, swarmed in, surrounding their mother Catelyn and their newborn brother. The children were overcome with joy.
Bran, with his auburn hair and blue eyes, excitedly kissed little Rickon. "I'm a big brother! This is great!"
Arya laughed, "Another little brother. It's so wonderful to be a big sister." Arya had a long face, brown hair, and grey eyes, resembling her father, Eddard. She was a mischievous and energetic girl.
Sansa smiled faintly, "Arya, don't get too excited. When you were born, I was thrilled to see you, who was still a cute little thing. Now? You're getting more and more annoying." Sansa inherited her mother's blue eyes and auburn hair. Everyone believed Sansa would grow into a great beauty.
Robb took Rickon, "It's fun to bicker with your younger siblings all day." Robb had reddish-brown hair and blue eyes, resembling his mother.
Eddard's ward, Theon Greyjoy, entered the room and stood by the door, a smile on his face. Theon was slender, with dark brown hair.
After the Iron Islands rebellion was quelled, ten-year-old Theon was taken in by Eddard as a ward and brought to Winterfell, as a hostage to ensure his father, Balon Greyjoy, would submit.
Now sixteen, Theon had been separated from his parents and home for many years. Living as a ward, he felt very uncomfortable seeing the Starks welcome a new member into the family, but he still forced his usual smile.
Eddard's bastard, Jon Snow, stood at the door, peeking inside, but Catelyn's look of disdain sent Jon fleeing in a hurry.
Catelyn had always been disgusted by the bastard Eddard had fathered.
Maester Luwin approached Eddard. "My Lord, now that you have a son, will you invite the nobles of the North to celebrate with you?"
Eddard nodded in agreement. "Yes, send out the ravens and inform them to come to Winterfell in a month to celebrate. Oh, and don't forget to send a raven to Castle Black, so Benjen can come as well."
Everyone in the household was overjoyed, but Eddard couldn't bring himself to be happy.
Eddard was a transmigrator. He had been a regular office worker on Earth. Three days ago, he had transmigrated to Winterfell in Westeros and become the Duke of the North.
Eddard realized that even as the Duke of the North, he often had to wear the "duke's mask," as his identity as a transmigrator couldn't be revealed easily.
As a transmigrator, Eddard wasn't sure if history would unfold the same way as in A Song of Ice and Fire. He would do his best to win the game of thrones, win the clash of kings, survive the storm of swords, participate in the feast for crows, and welcome the dance with dragons…
Eddard knew that all of this beauty was temporary, just as the Stark family words said, "Winter is coming."
In the evening, Eddard went to Maester Luwin's tower. The Maester was writing letters.
"My Lord, as you instructed, I've written many letters. They'll be sent across The North, inviting the noble lords to celebrate Young Lord Rickon's birth. I'll release the ravens at dawn tomorrow."
"Thank you for your hard work." Eddard pulled up a chair and sat down. "Maester Luwin, I have some business plans. Do you have a map of The North?"
"Business plans?" Luwin was surprised, as the Duke of the North usually didn't even bother with Winterfell's accounts. "My Lord, you've never been interested in business. Why the sudden change?"
Eddard smiled. "With Rickon's arrival, there's another mouth to feed. Winter is coming, and it's always good to find ways to make more money."
Maester Luwin brought over a map, spread it out on the table, and used tallow candles to hold it down.
On the map were White Harbor, Dreadfort, Deepwood Motte, Flint's Finger, Wolfswood, Barrowton, Last Hearth, and Karhold, along with rivers like the White Knife, The Milkwater, The Weeping Water, and The First River. There were also the villages of the Mountain Clans, and fishing villages along the long coastline. From The Neck in the south to The Gift in the north, all these places paid taxes to Winterfell.
Every month, Winterfell received a large amount of gold dragons and silver stags. The Starks had never been fond of extravagance. The boisterous tournaments and courtly dances of the south were almost unheard of in Winterfell. The Kings of the North had accumulated considerable wealth over the generations.
However, this was far from enough. Winters in Westeros often lasted for several years. During winter, the Stark family not only saw their income decrease, but also had to spend a lot of money to help the people of Winter Town and support their vassals.
Even in summer, Winterfell faced various enemies. The "Stoneborn" of Skagos would occasionally raid the eastern coast, and small bands of pirates were a constant presence on the western coast.
Most of the pirates on the western coast were Ironborn from the Iron Islands. After Balon Greyjoy bent the knee to Robert, Balon sent his only living son, Theon, to Winterfell as a ward, guaranteeing the Ironborn of the Iron Islands would not raid Westeros. Balon also executed some raiders, but the Iron Islands never lacked outlaws who followed the old ways.
Wildling raiders were also a major concern for Winterfell. With the Night's Watch weakened, Wildling raiders were crossing the Wall more and more frequently. After entering The North, they would kill the adult men, steal food, and kidnap young women and children.
Under the Wildling raids, many villages in The Gift, south of the Wall, were abandoned, almost becoming no man's lands. The Wildlings also frequently harassed the lands of House Umber, House Karstark, and the Mountain Clans, leading to a sharp decline in the income of these lords, and a corresponding decline in the taxes received by Winterfell.
Eddard had been planning in his mind for the past two days. To strengthen The North, economic development was essential, and the first step was to make Winter Town prosperous.
Eddard's gaze rested on Winterfell on the map, and he pointed to Winter Town next to Winterfell with his finger.
"How many people are in Winter Town now?"
Luwin thought for a moment, "About five thousand, I estimate."
Eddard frowned. "There are too few people. I took a walk around yesterday, and four-fifths of the houses are empty. The fertile land is uncultivated. Why don't my people like living in Winter Town?"
Luwin smiled. "My lord, The North is vast and sparsely populated. Only when winter arrives do people gather from all directions to Winter Town to keep warm. The hot springs here attract people. Now it's summer, and many have returned to their homes. Some of these people come from The Stony Shore, Sea Dragon Point, some from the Mountain Clans, and others live in villages outside of White Harbor."
"Winter Town is just a temporary refuge for many residents; they own their own houses and land in their hometowns. People always cherish their homelands. Staying in Winter Town means paying taxes to Winterfell, and going home means paying taxes to their own lords. It makes no difference to them. My lord, rest assured, they will return in winter."
Eddard clasped his hands together, placing them in front of his chest.
"I want them to come back now. I want every chimney in Winter Town to have smoke, I want children running everywhere in the streets, and I want to hear the noise of the market."
"Maester Luwin, I want you to add a message to the letters notifying the various lords to come to Winterfell for the celebration banquet, saying that Winterfell welcomes residents from all over The North to live in Winter Town."
"I want to build Winterfell into the next White Harbor, a prosperous city."