The salt in Westeros was far from cheap, and its quality left much to be desired. How could the common folk afford salt that wasn't tainted with a bitter aftertaste?
The salt Jason had brought from his own world was a world apart—pure, iodized, and white as snow. It was ten times better than the tawny, bitter rock salt used across the Seven Kingdoms. The thought of monopolizing the salt trade was tempting. If he could transport it in massive quantities, the profits would be astronomical. Who wouldn't be excited by the prospect of such a monopoly?
But he quickly dismissed the idea. If he started buying salt on that scale in the modern world, it would undoubtedly attract unwanted attention. For now, a slow and steady approach was the only way. His company accounts already held billions, more than enough to fund his expansion in Westeros. Once he had secured the entire continent, he could afford to be bolder. But until then, a massive operation would be impossible to hide.
That evening, Jason, accompanied by fifty of his personal guards, rode in a carriage back to his small castle in the winter town. After Lina and the others had moved to Starfire City, the shop here had become a simple branch, handling sales within the local territory. Besides the shop employees, a hundred soldiers were stationed in the barracks. The castle was only ten kilometers from his logging camp, so if any trouble arose, the thousands of soldiers stationed there could arrive quickly. There was no need to leave a larger force behind.
Returning to the small castle after more than half a year felt strangely familiar. He had lived here for a long time when he first arrived in this world, and it held a certain sentimental value. Lina and Bella were managing the main store in Starfire City now, so only a few newly hired maids were here, tasked with cleaning the castle and the shop.
Jason asked a maid to draw a hot bath. After a quick wash, he changed into a fine set of clothes, preparing for the Starks' dinner invitation at Winterfell.
His carriage rolled through the gates of Winterfell, with Dicken, Kent, and his fifty guards following closely behind.
Lady Catelyn stood waiting in the courtyard before the Great Hall, flanked by Sansa, Bran, and Rickon. Maester Luwin and Ser Rodrik Cassel stood by her side, ready to welcome their guest.
"Lord Jason," Lady Catelyn said with a graceful smile, her tone warm yet properly reserved. "Thank you for accepting my invitation."
Jason dismounted and smoothed his tunic. "The honor is all mine, Lady Catelyn. Thank you for having me."
"Good evening, Lord Jason," Sansa said, offering a perfect curtsy. She seemed much improved from the frightened girl who had been returned from the Lannisters. Back in the safety of Winterfell, she no longer had to live in constant fear. The horrific memory of her father's execution before the Great Sept of Baelor still haunted her, a terrible scene that tormented the poor girl's dreams. But being home again, surrounded by family and comforted by her mother, had begun to soothe her grief.
Bran and Rickon offered their greetings as well. Bran, who had once been a boisterous and joyful boy, now carried a solemn maturity. His father's death and his own imprisonment had forced the eleven-year-old to grow up far too quickly. The horrors he had endured were a heavy burden for one so young.
It was true what they said: suffering was the fastest catalyst for growth.
Looking at Bran's bright face, Jason noticed that the mischievous glint in his beautiful blue eyes was gone. He felt a pang of sympathy; he had always liked the boy, despite his occasional willfulness.
"Be strong, Bran," Jason said softly, placing a hand on the boy's slightly curly hair. "You're a man now. Soon, you'll be fighting alongside your brother Robb. You'll defeat the Lannisters and avenge your father, Lord Eddard." He leaned in closer. "Can you do that for me, Bran?"
Bran nodded, his small face set with a fierce, childish determination. "I will, Lord Jason. I'll lead an army, just like Robb, and I'll make the Lannisters pay for what they did to my father!"
Jason gave the boy's thin shoulders a gentle squeeze. "Good. I believe you can do it. So listen to Ser Rodrik when he teaches you the sword, and pay attention to Maester Luwin's lessons. Arm your mind with knowledge and your body with a sword. You can do it."
Lady Catelyn watched the exchange with a grateful expression. Her favorite son had been lost in a quiet, heartbreaking sadness since his return to Winterfell. As a mother, she had tried everything to comfort him, but the shadows of King's Landing still clung to the once-innocent child.
The banquet was held in the Great Hall. Jason sat with Lady Catelyn, while Dicken, Kent, and his other guards were entertained by Ser Rodrik.
Lady Catelyn raised her glass. "To Lord Jason," she said, her voice clear. She knew that his cavalry had been crucial in the victory at Riverrun. As the Lord of Starfall City grew in power, she hoped to deepen the friendship between their houses, ensuring his continued support in the war against the westerlands.
Jason was more than willing to maintain a friendly alliance with the Starks. Compared to the other scheming nobles of Westeros, House Stark was one of the few he considered truly honorable. Dealing with them was refreshingly straightforward.
The dinner continued in a warm and friendly atmosphere. Jason did his best to tell lighthearted stories, making Sansa, Bran, and Rickon laugh. Sansa listened with rapt attention as he recounted the battle against the Kingslayer near Riverrun, describing how the westerners had been beaten back and forced to flee. A relieved smile touched her delicate face, and her eyes, fixed on the high-spirited lord, filled with admiration. To her, Lord Jason was a mighty warrior, a hero who could defeat the cruel and murderous Lannisters.
Far from the warmth of Winterfell's halls, Theon Greyjoy and his two hundred ironborn reavers picked their way through the vast wolfswood. The journey had been difficult; more than a dozen of his men had vanished along the way. But after much hardship, they had finally arrived at the edge of Winterfell.
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