The next morning at dawn, Daeron headed toward the royal treasury to claim his first official funds for his new lands.
He'd learned the details of his grant from Tywin the night before —
a two-thousand-square-kilometer royal estate on the southern bank of the Blackwater Rush.
The domain included winding rivers, woodlands, coastal dunes, even a stretch of shoreline along the eastern sea. Impressive territory — the kind that made lesser nobles envious.
To picture it simply: King's Landing sat on the north bank of the Blackwater, its famous Mud Gate leading to the busiest port in Westeros.
Daeron's new fief lay across the same river, directly opposite the capital.
Historically, this land was royal reserve, granted only once before —
to Daemon Blackfyre himself.
Not bad for the king's second son.
Riding through the crisp morning air, Daeron turned with a light smile. "Quite the estate, wouldn't you say?"
Ser Jon, his ever-serious Kingsguard escort, gave a polite nod, barely reacting.
Moments later, the great iron doors of the treasury came into view — and someone was already waiting there.
A plump, middle-aged man waved and hurried over despite the guards at his back.
"Lord Owen?" Daeron blinked, surprised.
Indeed, it was Owen Merryweather, one of his father Aerys's loyal flatterers — a man more famous for his toadying than his competence. The court had nicknamed him the Laughing Fool.
"Your Grace! I didn't expect you so early," Owen said, panting slightly but smiling from ear to ear.
Before Daeron could reply, the count thrust a colorfully arranged basket into his arms.
"The King has sent me to assist you with the treasury withdrawal," Owen said with an oily grin. "Since there's been no public ceremony, I thought it only right to bring my own small token of congratulations."
Daeron lifted an eyebrow as the man insisted, pushing the gift toward him. "Please — only the finest from Merryweather lands. Every piece hand-picked!"
Lifting the silk cloth covering the basket, a gentle, fresh sweetness filled the air. Inside were carefully arranged fruits and vegetables:
two apples — one red, one green — a bunch of dark, full-bodied grapes, an orange, an ear of corn, a handful of wild berries, and half a cluster of bananas.
Not much by volume, but each piece looked perfect.
Daeron frowned softly. He could already sense the faint vitality radiating off them — not ordinary produce, but crops infused with life energy.
Special crops like these were deceptively ordinary on the vine or tree — they looked no different from their mundane counterparts until harvested. Only after picking did they reveal their luminescent essence, glowing softly like embers in the night.
Knights who consumed them could awaken or enhance their control of life energy; common folk could grow healthier and stronger with time.
Naturally, they sold for absurd amounts of gold.
"This is far too valuable," Daeron said quietly, ready to refuse.
As with all rare produce, quality varied — common, silver, and gold grades.
Here, two apples and the ear of corn were of silver quality. Together, the basket was worth at least three hundred gold dragons.
Owen puffed his chest proudly, gesturing to the gold-and-white crest on his coat: a cornucopia overflowing with fruits.
"You know my house words, Your Grace — 'Behold My Gift!'" he said, beaming.
Before Daeron could respond, Owen pulled another item from his coat — a glass bottle of milk, still warm. "You haven't eaten yet, I imagine. Have this — straight from the estate's dairy!"
Daeron hesitated, then accepted. The milk, faintly glowing, held life energy too.
What a generous man, he thought with genuine amusement.
Owen grinned proudly. "As our words say, the bounty of our house is blessed! The land itself yields more special crops than nearly anywhere else in the Reach. That milk comes from a cow that once nibbled a few enchanted plants — now she gives milk like this every day!"
A single such cow, yielding life-rich milk daily, could turn into limitless wealth. Many noble houses would gladly pay fortunes for it.
Seeing no polite way to decline, Daeron accepted the basket and the milk with an appreciative nod. "Lord Owen, you truly have a heart of gold. Your generosity honors me."
He wasn't exaggerating. Owen was the first noble to openly invest in him — and by extension, oppose the Rhaegar loyalists quietly dominating court circles.
Tywin's lesson echoed in his mind:
> "When men challenge you, answer with steel and fire. But when they kneel, you must lift them up — or no one will ever kneel again."
This wasn't a moment to reject loyalty.
Daeron uncorked the bottle and took a sip. Smooth, sweet, faintly warm — and immediately, a gentle heat spread through his chest. His limbs loosened; a light flush of energy ran through his body.
He analyzed the sensation instinctively. "Roughly equivalent to a common-grade special crop in effect. Excellent quality."
"Ha! You flatter me, Your Grace," Owen said, practically glowing with pride.
Moments later, the transaction was complete. Five hundred gold dragons were withdrawn and handed over to Daeron.
Mounting his horse, Daeron handed the box of gold to Ser Jon and turned toward the road, his eyes bright with anticipation.
He couldn't wait to see his estate — not the land itself, but the farm he planned to build there.
With the system awaiting activation, he needed only one suitable plot to begin.
Five hundred gold dragons would be more than enough startup capital.
(Currency breakdown: 1 gold dragon = 210 silver stags; 1 silver stag = 56 copper stars; 1 copper star = 8 small copper coins.)
For comparison:
- A sausage and a mug of ale cost a single copper coin.
- A silver stag could buy a hearty tavern meal — lamb, pork stew, and several mugs of ale — with change to spare.
- A full suit of fine armor ran about four gold dragons,
- A swift courser horse, less than that.
Gold still meant something here — unlike the days of Robert Baratheon's lavish spending, when even a silver stag could barely buy a pumpkin.
Daeron laughed to himself, spurred his horse, and rode off toward the Blackwater's southern fields — ready to claim the land his "grandfather" had left him, and to awaken the Stardew Valley System that waited within him.