The peasant woman knelt tightly on the ground, her legs seemingly welded to the earth.
Her ragged cloth clothes were covered in mud, and her dry, messy hair covered most of her face.
Only her swollen, terrified eyes occasionally peeked out.
Suleiman stood before her, his not-so-tall figure appearing like an insurmountable mountain in her eyes.
"Why didn't you come to my castle to seek an audience?" Suleiman's voice was no longer weak; it carried a majesty he himself was unfamiliar with.
The peasant woman's body shrank abruptly, her head buried even lower.
Her voice was as thin as a mosquito's hum: "Old Lord, I, I didn't dare. I was afraid of offending you, afraid you, afraid you would blame me."
"Blame you for what?" Suleiman asked, surprised.
The peasant woman's shoulders began to tremble violently, her body shaking as if something incredibly terrifying was about to happen to her.
Tears welled up again, and she kowtowed repeatedly, like pounding garlic, with a despair so profound it was bottomless: "I'm afraid of you, afraid you'll punish me, punish my children."
"My Old Hak, he, he followed the Old Lord to Seagard and never returned."
"I have no food at home, and my two children are about to starve to death. I, I just wanted to come and beg for the Old Lord's grace."
"But when I reached the gate, I was afraid of offending the Old Lord, afraid of being punished by the Old Lord."
"So I wanted to go back, but when I got here, I thought, I am so incompetent, I can't even catch fish, and I was caught stealing someone else's fish and beaten severely."
"My children are about to starve to death, and I couldn't control my body, couldn't control my tears."
"I don't want to offend the Old Lord, I, I deserve to die, please spare my life, please spare my life, I'll leave now, I'll leave now."
She spoke incoherently, her body trembling more violently with each word.
She knew well how the nobles of Westeros viewed them, their vassals, as lowly as livestock.
They were merely appendages of the land, existing like animals.
Their value was even less than some types of livestock.
They had no rights, no dignity; their lives and deaths depended solely on a word from their lord.
A peasant who offended their lord, or merely upset their lord, could suffer flogging, expulsion, or even death.
Her coming here was itself a huge risk, and her inner fear overwhelmed everything.
Suleiman fell silent.
He looked at this woman, completely broken by despair and fear, his mind swirling with thoughts.
This was a cold and cruel feudal society, with strict hierarchies and lives as cheap as grass.
He knew why she was so afraid; that deep-seated reverence and humility towards superiors, etched into their bones, was the truth of these eight thousand years of history.
He suddenly thought how lucky he was to be a minor noble in the world of Westeros, even if this territory had nothing.
He still surpassed ninety-nine percent of the common people of Westeros.
He took a deep breath, trying to make his voice sound gentler: "I will not punish you."
Hearing this, the peasant woman's body stiffened slightly, as if she couldn't believe her ears, but she still didn't dare to look up.
"Nick." Suleiman turned to the Old Butler behind him, "Go to the granary, get two bags of grain for her. And from the family's treasury, take three copper coins for her."
Old Nick was stunned, his cloudy eyes filled with confusion and incomprehension.
His lips moved, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he bowed: "Yes, My Lord."
He knew how empty the family's granary was and how little savings were left.
Yet Suleiman wanted to give the last remaining bit to a peasant woman in the territory.
This was simply unheard of; allowing her family to live on the House Droppings's land was already the greatest grace to them!
He sighed, full of questions, and hobbled towards the tower.
Simon and Lenn, behind Suleiman, were completely stunned.
As tenant farmers from the lord's land, they knew well the lord's attitude towards peasants.
Let alone giving grain and relief, it was common for them to be severely beaten or arbitrarily executed for trivial matters.
Just now, Simon had mustered the courage to say a few words, and he already felt he had exhausted all his bravery, yet he didn't expect the young Lord not only didn't blame them.
He even showed kindness to a peasant family that was already worthless to him!
They looked at Suleiman's back, their eyes complex, mixed with shock, disbelief, and an unspeakable gratitude.
They had never seen such a noble Lord, a noble who was willing to listen to the hardships of tenant farmers and even offer help.
The peasant woman on the ground finally looked up, her eyes full of tears and shock.
She looked at Suleiman once, then suddenly slammed her forehead repeatedly and heavily on the ground.
"Thank you, Lord Suleiman, for your grace! Thank you, Lord Suleiman, for your kindness! May the Seven Gods bless Lord Suleiman! May the Seven bless Lord Suleiman! May the Seven bless Lord Suleiman's House Droppings!" Her weeping was no longer despairing, but filled with incredible gratitude.
She hadn't expected that after losing her husband, and with herself and her children on the verge of starvation.
And preparing to face the final moment of despair, she would receive such great mercy from the Lord Old Lord.
Two bags of grain, three copper coins, to save her and her children from hunger—this was a grace she dared not even dream of.
Originally, when she gave up on seeking help from the Lord Old Lord.
This time, she was planning to drown her two children and then jump into the river to commit suicide, taking her children to reunite with her husband, free from the pain of hunger.
"Get up." Suleiman said calmly.
The peasant woman knocked her head on the ground a few more times, then scrambled up on all fours, and stood to the side.
Her body still trembled uncontrollably from excitement and gratitude, while also swaying because her legs had lost sensation from prolonged kneeling and lack of blood circulation.
Suleiman looked at her, then at Simon and Lenn, and made a decision in his heart.
In Westeros, he needed to survive, he needed strength. His territory was too small, his vassals too few; he had to rule them in another way.
And these vassals, whom he rescued and protected, their loyalty might be the foundation he could rely on.
Although they were poor and weak, if they could unite.
Thinking so.
"Simon, Lenn." Suleiman looked at them.
"Here! Old Lord!" Both immediately straightened their backs, responding loudly and excitedly to Suleiman.
"All the peasants who followed the Old Lord to war, except for you two, died in battle." Suleiman's voice was deep, "You fought for my family, and they died fighting for my family."
The two lowered their heads, tears welling in their eyes.
"Old Nick is back." Suleiman saw the Old Butler approaching, carrying two shriveled bags of grain and clutching a few copper coins, his face pained.
He took the items and handed them to the peasant woman: "Take these, and remember, you owe the House Droppings for this. Remember Lord Suleiman's kindness!"
The peasant woman took the grain and copper coins, and knelt again to express her thanks.
"May the Seven bless Lord Suleiman! May the Seven bless Lord Suleiman! May the Seven Gods bless the House Droppings! Lord Suleiman will surely be rewarded!"
Suleiman told her to go back first, then turned to Old Nick, his expression serious: "Nick, go and do three things immediately."
"First, inventory all remaining grain, money, weapons, armor, livestock, and farm tools in the family, anything of value, including household items, and make a complete list!" Suleiman said, "I want the most detailed list."
"Yes, Lord Suleiman." Old Nick replied, though he didn't understand why such a detailed inventory was needed, he agreed.
"Second." Suleiman's voice paused, carrying a heavy tone: "Compile a list of all peasants who followed my father to Seagard to participate in the war. Their families—every family must be given relief. If there are still young male adults in the family who can support themselves, give less; if they have lost their only young male adult and only have women and children, give more."
"Third, Simon and Lenn, you two bring all your equipment, go to the villages, and help Old Nick distribute the relief. If anyone dares to rob, if anyone dares to bully the families of those who died fighting for my family, cut off their hands and nail them in a place where everyone can see them!"
Old Nick heard the second task, and the alarm on his face deepened. "Lord Suleiman, Young Master, what are you doing?"
"I want to know," Suleiman looked at the distant sky, his voice slow, "how many families have lost their support because of my family. Help me calculate how much grain and money are needed to ensure that these families, at least under my care, do not starve to death."
Hearing this, Old Nick was completely stunned.
His mouth opened, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he said nothing, just stood there blankly, his face full of incomprehension.
He had lived his entire life, seen countless lords, and had never heard of any lord caring so much about the lives of their vassals.
Even going so far as to use the family's remaining property to "compensate" the families of dead tenant farmers.
This was simply unprecedented, unheard of, and in his opinion, it was a completely unnecessary act, a huge waste of family property!
One must know that the vassals of Westeros had no human rights.
Lords could kill them at will, even exercise the right of "First Night," and arbitrarily seize the wives and daughters of their vassals.
It was their duty, not their right, for lords to conscript peasants for war; this was written in the laws of the Seven Kingdoms!
If a peasant died, their family would naturally find a way, even if they starved to death; that was their fate. Why should the lord care about these things?
Simon and Lenn heard Suleiman's command, exchanged glances, their eyes filled with shock and emotion. This young lord.
He was unlike any noble they had heard of or seen.
Suleiman ignored Old Nick's confusion, his gaze sharp and resolute.
He knew he was facing a huge predicament: poverty, weakness, isolation, and a terrible future looming.
But he also knew that in such a world, he could not rely solely on himself.
In this cruel world, he must have a group of people closely united around him; the only hope, perhaps, lay in these seemingly humble lives.
He needed to win hearts, build trust, and let these vassals, who were about to suffer a catastrophe, see a glimmer of hope and be willing to follow him for that hope.
This was the first starting point he would establish in this world.