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In the year 284 of the Aegon Calendar
Ser Edmund returned to the Three Towers with his troops. Though the war had not been won, none of the soldiers from the Three Towers had suffered casualties during the campaign.
To celebrate the safe return of his heir, Lord Houghton declared a grand feast in the castle. He generously distributed food to the villagers as well. The castle was filled with joy, and the people reveled in this long-awaited happiness.
After the feast, Ser Edmund was summoned alone to Lord Houghton's study.
In the spacious yet somewhat dim study, Lord Houghton paced back and forth, his hands clasped behind his back, his face dark with anger. Ser Edmund sat in a chair, his expression equally grim.
Suddenly, Lord Houghton stopped, turned around, and glared at Sir Edmund, his voice rising as he angrily scolded, "You reckless fool! During the war, you caused trouble with the House Hightower over a woman, nearly getting into a duel! Do you realize how thin our family's bloodline is? It's just the two of us left! If you go off causing trouble like that and something happens to you, what happens to the family? Who will carry on our legacy?"
His voice echoed in the study and the muscles in his face twitched with barely contained fury.
Ser Edmund sprang to his feet, his face flushed with anger as he retorted, "Father, we are already enemies with the Hightower family! They humiliated the Cotstayne family this time, by daring to flirt with my fiancée in front of me."
Seeing Lord Houghton's expression soften slightly, Ser Edmund cautiously added, "And, if you truly feel the family line is so thin, why not acknowledge my brother's child and bring him into the family? At least we could raise him in the castle; after all, he carries the Cotstayne blood in his veins."
Lord Houghton snorted disdainfully and turned his head, his voice cold as he replied, "Absolutely not! That is a bastard! A baseborn child will never tarnish my family's honor!" He let out a heavy sigh, paused briefly, then fixed Ser Edmund with a cold gaze.
"As for managing the castle and its affairs, that's your responsibility now, and how you handle it is up to you. But matters like adding members to the family are not for you to decide—at least not until I'm dead!" With that, he waved his sleeve dismissively and turned away, refusing to look at Edmund again.
Edmund clenched his fists, grinding his teeth in frustration, but eventually, he resigned himself and sank back into the chair with a deep sigh.
As they left the study, Ser Edmund's face was clouded with thought. The Cotstayne family had suffered no losses in the war, but they had also failed to gain the expected benefits.
Edmund had hoped to use his accomplishments in the war as leverage to have Lord Mace Tyrell arbitrate the disputed ownership of two villages on the border between the Cotstayne and Hightower families. However, with the war ending abruptly, the matter had been left unresolved.
He called for a servant, his tone serious as he asked, "What has happened in the territory during my absence?"
The servant quickly lowered his head, his expression respectful as he reported on the recent affairs of the territory. Ser Edmund listened in silence, occasionally nodding slightly and at times furrowing his brows.
Suddenly, Ser Edmund seemed to remember something and asked, "What about the mother and son outside the castle?"
The servant hesitated briefly, then, after a moment of thought, replied, "My lord, the mother and son have been living fairly peacefully, but…"
Ser Edmund's gaze sharpened, and he pressed, "But what? Do not hesitate, speak plainly."
"My lord, I've discovered that some high-quality salt, the kind only the nobility would have access to, has begun circulating within the territory. After some investigation, I traced it back to your brother's basterd son, Gavin Flowers."
Ser Edmund's interest piqued at once, and he asked, "Does my father know of this?"
"I don't know, my lord. I was instructed by you to look after the mother and son, and I did not dare to make any decisions without your permission, as selling salt without authorization is a violation of the laws of the territory." The servant answered respectfully.
Edmund let out a breath of relief upon hearing this. He was the younger son of the Lord. According to Westerosi customs, he had no claim to inherit the family castle or title.
All of that was supposed to go to his elder brother. His father had already arranged a path for him—sending him to serve as a squire in the Tyrell family. After being knighted, he served as a captain in the Tyrell's household guard.
However, six years ago, a letter from his father shattered the trajectory of his life. His elder brother had died of illness on his way home, and in the span of a single night, Ser Edmund had become the heir to the Three Towers.
The Tyrell family even arranged for him to marry a woman from a side branch of their house. A series of unexpected events followed, with the bittersweet combination of inheriting what should have been his brother's while mourning his brother's death.
Though he now held what had once belonged to his brother, Ser Edmund, feeling some guilt, had tried to look after his brother's Bastard son and the woman from Volantis.
After a moment of thought, Ser Edmund decided to meet the boy and take them back to the castle.
The next day, Alice went to work in the Barracks, and Gavin stayed at home, preparing lunch alone. The fire in the hearth blazed, and the smoke swirled in the air as he skillfully stirred the food in the pot.
At that moment, a knock echoed from his slightly weathered and worn front door. Gavin quickly wiped his hands and hurried to open it.
Outside, he saw a man dressed as a noble, and with a respectful and polite manner, he greeted him, "Good afternoon, my lord. May I ask what brings you to me?"
Ser Edmund slightly tilted his head, his sharp gaze fixed on Gavin, and he asked, "Do you know who I am?" Before Gavin could answer, he added, "Forgot it, you're just a child. Where is your mother?"
"Lord Edmund, my mother should be at the barracks, washing clothes. She should be returning soon."
"You recognise me?" Ser Edmund asked in surprise upon hearing Gavin's response.
"My lord, I saw you outside the castle on the day of your triumphant return," Gavin replied respectfully.
"Triumph Return? I can hardly call it a triumph. I only led some troops around, and I didn't gain any honor in this war," Ser Edmund said with a slight twist of his lips, his expression tinged with a sense of helplessness.
"My lord, although you did not return in glory, your loyalty, given in full measure, is deeply moving and worthy of admiration," Gavin seized the opportunity to compliment him.
"Haha!" Ser Edmund laughed heartily upon hearing this, clearly pleased with the compliment.
At the same time, he noticed that though Gavin was only six years old, his responses were clear and well-structured, indicating sharp intelligence.
Moreover, there was no trace of the typical fear that common folk might show when addressing a noble; instead, his gaze was calm and clear.
This little fellow certainly seems worth nurturing, Ser Edmund thought, then asked, "Young Gavin, do you know who your father is?"
"I have heard whispers, my lord. People talk, and my mother has spoken of him as well," Gavin answered calmly.
A flicker of curiosity and scrutiny passed through Ser Edmund's eyes as he asked, "Young lad, do you hate the Cotstayne family?"
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[Image, House Cotstayne Sigil]
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[Chapter End's]
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