The frown on my face had worsened the more he spoke, and by the time he dismissed me, I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself making a mistake large enough to see my entire family and probably the island itself vanquished.
Truly, we nobles were vain, prideful creatures.
Fifteen years in Tarth had changed me more than I changed the world around me, that I knew for sure. I felt the urge to make a witty quip about his own father's lacking leadership, but I reigned myself in and took a long, deep breath.
I didn't want to end up thrown from the top of the castle for bringing up the Toothless Lion
In a way, I was glad that Tywin gave me a swift reminder that I was still only nothing more than the heir to a backwater island that couldn't even be counted as a powerhouse within the Stormlands, already one of the smallest, least populous regions of Westeros.
Unclenching my fists, I swallowed down the rising anger and tried to channel it into something more productive. I still needed to treat with the man if I wanted my ships.
"I thank you for the advice, my lord," I started, dipping my head slightly.
And whether it was to show deference or to take a moment to hide my scowl made no difference.
"But you should know that my father's leadership is the reason our house has never been in a better position.
"It's why our farms produce half again as much as they did five years ago, to the point where, for the first time in hundreds of years, Tarth no longer relies on mainland yields to feed itself. And grain is not all. Marble. Wool. Black ink. Our merchants have thrice the presence in King's Landing as they did once, and Dawnrest sees more Essosi traders in a couple of moons than it used to see for an entire year. All because of Lord Selwyn Tarth's vision."
Of course, my ideas were the real reason behind Tarth's rise in fortune.
Simple things, really, as I was no genius in the matters of agriculture and trade. But growing up in a small, rural town in my past life, I knew how inefficient westerosi methods of farming were.
I had started that project more than five years ago when I was only a boy, so it was no wonder my father and the maester had been reluctant in trying my idea to switch to a simple Norfolk method of crop rotation.
But they came around after the first farm directly under our control saw rising yields a few years in a row, and we had slowly expanded across the island.
If anything, I expected our production to increase even more as there were plenty of farms still using the previous methods of leaving fields fallow. Farmers could be stubborn folk after all, but seeing their neighbors' fields thrive around them was changing their minds slowly but surely.
And since we were using turnips and clover as some of the crops in the rotation, we had more fodder for livestock, which meant more manure and better quality soil. The system fed on itself.
Our sworn vassals, knightly houses like Kellington, Gower, and Tudbury, had also been a mixed bag in accepting the new methods, but they had mostly caved when Lord Selwyn applied enough pressure.
House Tarth ruled our home island with a tight iron fist even before I was born, and I had no intention of weakening that stranglehold.
The farming success had seen most of my other ventures met with, if not approval, than cautious optimism. From building up my own force of twenty five lads, to having a more acting hand in the administration of Dawnrest, the port town an hour's ride from our Castle.
Again, I was no economist and had no experience in the actual running of a town.
My contribution had been mostly keeping an eye on the officials running the town and just quietly removing the corrupt ones. Harbor masters, custom officials, toll collectors.
I didn't need a Petyr Baelish in my own backyard.
And secondly, just trying not to be a dick to foreign merchants who were routinely charged double or triple for everything, and thus avoided Dawnrest as a port to trade and rest.
Competitive docking fees, cheap drink, plentiful lodging for all traders, better-run brothels. The stuff that makes a growing port town thrive.
But of course, I could not take credit for these innovations. Not in front of others. Tywin was right, at the end of the day. Father's trust in me, which allowed for Tarth's change in fortune, was a sign of his good leadership. I knew that for a fact.
Yet at the same time, Lord Selwyn's allowance for his inexperienced son to take charge of his affairs reflected badly on the good name of House Tarth.
To others, it was a sign that he was soft and weak, that he was a lord who couldn't control his own family and lands. That would worsen our house's standing more than my own achievements would improve it.
After all, matters like farming, trading, and industry, were nothing but copper counting in the minds of most Westerosi lords. The smart ones knew better, of course, but culture was culture, and tradition was tradition. You did not want to be labelled as a merchant-minded miser.
Tywin had listened impassively as I listed our houses' achievements. He let me stew in that silence for another beat before he finally spoke.
"It seems Steffon's confidence was not entirely misplaced," he said, then gave me the slightest of nods. "Good. Do not take insults on your house laying down, even from your betters. Your family name is all you have. That will be my second advice to you."
xxx
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