Gregor stood in the corridor of the main fortress, with Lady Jeyne just a head shorter beside him. Jeyne was standing on a tall stool, but even so, her slender frame seemed delicate compared to his imposing stature.
Downstairs, the villagers all looked up at Gregor. Despite his beast-like size, his eyes and expression weren't as fierce and terrifying as the rumors suggested. He was just a man, two eyes, a nose, nothing unusually monstrous. Many who caught his gaze didn't feel an overwhelming aura of menace.
His expression was gentle, with a humble smile on his face. When he spoke softly to Jeyne, hardly anyone downstairs could hear him. Contrary to the tales of his voice being like a terrifying thunderclap, what they heard was far less intimidating.
The villagers' fear of Gregor began to fade. After all, seeing is believing.
All they'd heard before were stories of his brutal cruelty and bloodthirsty nature. But when they actually saw this giant speaking quietly with Lady Jeyne, the image of a fearsome monster seemed far off.
All eyes then turned to the bulky woman carrying the log. She was taller than most men, with a barrel chest, thick eyebrows like a broom, a broad face, and full lips, none of the delicate beauty usually expected of a woman.
People whispered and gossiped, even laughing at her surprisingly large feet.
Gregor observed the villagers' reactions and said to Jeyne, "That woman has guts. I think you should take her on as a handmaiden."
Jeyne gave him a doubtful look.
Gregor smiled and teased, "Judging by appearances, are you?"
"For the newly returned villagers, the Westerling family shouldn't force anything on them. If we are to make her a handmaiden, it must be with her consent, not by some high-handed decree."
"Fair enough," Gregor agreed. "If we can have her as a handmaiden, it will help build a sense of closeness with the people."
Gregor favored straightforward, honest villagers without guile. Winning the people's trust meant creating role models. The Westerling family's power had been shattered for two generations. Their authority had hit rock bottom, and to restore the people's confidence, they needed a relatable example.
"Ser Gregor, your idea is sound, but I still insist on the woman's willingness over noble orders," Jeyne stood firm.
"Agreed," Gregor nodded.
Lord Damon and Lord Leo eyed Gregor like he was a monster.
Gregor spoke openly in front of the three Lords by his side: Damon, Leo, and Gawen.
To be honest, his father-in-law Gawen was rather mediocre in ability. Many decisions required his approval, and if he voted against something, it would never get done. So to avoid endless conflicts, Gregor had decided to take swift, decisive action without needing their consent. For key matters, no debate was necessary, just do it.
With his strength, Gregor had reclaimed all the Westerling lands, a problem no Westerling before him could solve. Though Gawen was average, he wasn't stupid; he knew Westerling's revival depended on Gregor's support.
In fact, Gregor often acted without Gawen's input, which surprisingly gave Gawen a sense of relief he kept to himself. A man with no strong opinions prefers someone else to make decisions, so he avoids the heavy mental burden of choices.
Gawen didn't know where Gregor got the money to keep soldiers, but since Jeyne said Gregor would find a way, Gawen breathed easier. Though stern in appearance, he was pleased to let Gregor lead and show Lord Damon that if Marbrand wanted to challenge Westerling, they'd better watch out for his son-in-law, Gregor.
Gregor was determined to restore Westerling's glory, so let him have free rein.
Why not?
The woman carrying the log reached the main fortress gate. Under Reynald's direction, she placed the round timber upright by the gate.
Reynald led the applause.
The guards joined in, as did the soldiers maintaining order, the centurions, and the knights at the gate.
Lord Damon chuckled, "Ser Gregor, the farce is complete. Time to pay up."
"Of course!" Gregor smiled.
Lord Leo smiled with amusement.
Gregor addressed the crowd of villagers gathered beneath the fortress: "People of the realm, I am Ser Gregor Clegane." His voice boomed like a great bell, echoing over the parade ground, ringing so loudly it made their ears throb.
Thousands looked shocked, realizing this was Gregor's true voice. Though it wasn't quite the legendary thunderous roar, it was still deeply commanding.
The crowd fell silent, feeling an invisible, tangible pressure in the air.
Gregor surveyed them, his presence commanding respect without anger. "On behalf of the Westerling family, I have new orders to announce. But first, I must reward the young woman who carried this log as promised."
"From now on, any Westerling decree, like today's simple test of strength, will be carried out faithfully. There will always be consequences; orders will not be lightly changed. Young lady, what is your name?"
The woman was tongue-tied. She had no formal name; everyone in the village just called her "Bull," including her husband. She knew the nickname was mocking and humiliating, and in front of so many nobles, she blushed furiously.
She was simple but not foolish, she knew saying "Bull" aloud would cause laughter.
Gregor reassured her, "Don't be afraid. If you don't want to say your name, that's fine."
The crowd fell quiet. So many terrifying rumors surrounded this giant, would he really kill her for disrespect?
Nobles often had no reason to hesitate to kill a disrespectful commoner.
Everyone held their breath.
"Reynald, present the young lady with a Gold Dragon," Gregor ordered.
"Yes, Ser Gregor!" Reynald took out a gold coin and handed it to her.
Bull stared at the coin, her first time earning money in over twenty years, and it was a Gold Dragon. Her eyes found Berny in the crowd. Berny was short and not very noticeable, but she saw him immediately.
As long as Berny stayed with her, this coin was nothing.
Gregor added, "I thought it would take a courageous man to move this log from the gate to here, but among thousands of Westerling men, no one had more courage than this woman. I respect her bravery greatly."
He pulled out a freshly minted Gold Dragon of his own. The coin gleamed with a reddish tint from added copper, no one could mistake it for a fake.
"Here, this coin is specially for your courage."
With a flick, the coin flew into Bull's hand. Surprised, she dropped it, and it clinked lightly on the ground.
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