Ten years passed like a steady wind on a merchant sail, and the Vale was no longer what it once was.
The city of Gulltown was transformed. Once a modest port, it had grown into the beating heart of Westerosi trade, with the Graftons and Arryns presiding over a vast shipbuilding complex that echoed with the hammering of hundreds of workers. With the help of Braavosi shipwrights and the designs Rodrik had long ago sketched, the Galleons became the standard of their merchant fleet—massive, fast, and reliable.
From an initial fleet of 10, the number had grown to over 140 galleons, including a special class of luxury merchant ships and heavily armed escorts to guard against piracy. They traded with every major Free City, and with even farther-flung kingdoms such as Yi Ti, Asshai, and Leng.
The trade fleet alone now brought in over 3.2 million gold dragons annually, with profit margins continuing to increase as they monopolized spices, silks, exotic goods, and glassware. House Arryn's coffers had become so vast that even the Lannisters began to grow wary of the wealth blooming in the Vale.
Rodrik's Inventions had become legendary:
Water-powered Grain Mills increased flour production across the Vale tenfold.
Advanced pulley-and-winch systems made castle construction and mining faster and safer.
The Compass, though still a closely guarded secret, allowed the merchant fleet to sail confidently and swiftly.
Glass-blowing furnaces based on Rodrik's design allowed them to produce crystal-clear glass, which became a symbol of nobility all over Westeros.
Soap production, learned from Essosi techniques, improved hygiene among smallfolk and drastically reduced diseases.
Early sanitation systems, starting with simple latrines and waste management, were implemented in Gulltown and the Eyrie, transforming public health.
A simplified script system allowed faster learning among the masses, adopted in the Academy Rodrik founded.
To the smallfolk, Rodrik was a mythical figure. In a lively tavern in Runestone, a grizzled blacksmith raised his ale.
"To Lord Yobert, Lord Rodrik, and the strange wise ghost who gave us a better life!" he toasted.
"Aye, I heard in Coldwater Burn they've even got glass windows now," a farmer said. "And a healer in every town!"
"I used to carry salt by mule," another laughed. "Now I'm master o' a ship, sailing to Norvos like I'm some lord meself!"
Behind this transformation was an unmatched network of investment and diplomacy, carefully managed by Yobert and Rodrik. But not without enemies.
When Myr realized the Vale had cracked the secrets of their lucrative glass-making trade, they sent word: cease or suffer. Assassins followed, targeting merchant lords and even attempting to strike at Rodrik. But Yobert had prepared. He had anticipated that such monopolies would draw ire.
He reached out to Braavos, not just for trade, but protection. In a landmark secret agreement, Braavosi traders received preferred status in exchange for safeguarding Vale's exports beyond Westeros. That included intervention from their deadliest assets—the Faceless Men. Within weeks, the threats from Myr vanished like smoke in wind. Trade resumed uninterrupted.
Now fifteen, Rodrik stood atop a horse beside his closest companions—Jaymee Royce, cousin of Lady Rhae Royce, and his beloved little sister Jeyne, now fifteen as well and a sharp-tongued, silver-eyed wonder. The trio rode often, laughing and racing across the wind-swept hills near the Eyrie.
"Is that your serious face again, Rodrik?" Jaymee teased.
"That's his 'I'm planning to change the world' face," Jeyne added, laughing.
Rodrik smiled, playfully kicking his horse forward. "Race you to the cliff!"
Later, in his office, Yobert sat by the fire as Rodrik entered, dusted with the scent of fresh pine.
"We've received another quarterly report," Yobert said, handing over parchment. "Revenue is up again. Our newest ventures—agricultural rotation, cloth-dyeing mills, and the sea-silk partnership—have increased monthly income by another three hundred thousand gold dragons. I daresay… we are now the richest house in the Seven Kingdoms. Even the crown is asking for loans."
Rodrik raised a brow.
"And our military?" he asked.
Yobert leaned forward. "You'll be pleased. Over the decade, we've trained and equipped an elite force of twelve thousand men. Five thousand light infantry, three thousand heavy infantry, two thousand archers, and two thousand cavalry. We also have a professional engineer corps trained in siege equipment and infrastructure work."
Rodrik smiled. "Enough to deal with the Mountain Tribes?"
Yobert nodded grimly. "We've mapped their strongholds. With our new aerial kites and the scouting reports from our stealth teams, we know where they hide. It will not be easy, but this time… we are ready."
Rodrik looked out the window, past the snow-kissed peaks of the Vale.
"Then it's time," he whispered. "Time to bring peace."