This is a different writing style, without the sensory focus.
Do you prefer it this way?
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The sensation of having dominion and the presence of a being in another place was, unequivocally, the most satisfying thing Willian had ever felt in his life so far.
The sweet taste of magic gave him a wolfish grin from side to side on his face.
"...he's still there with her..."
The direwolf he was connected to was still where he judged it to be beyond the Wall.
Luckily, its behavior was still being influenced by Willian's will, or the poor girl would be saying goodbye to the world of the living.
Willian chuckled to himself at the fascinating sensation.
"Now I need to fit this into my plans."
The warging ability needed to be studied and analyzed to see what degree of advantage it could give him.
Hopefully, it could be used for more than mere entertainment, to build, along with his other pieces, a more intense game of chess.
Willian stayed quiet, immersed in the new sensation.
"...unfortunately I can't hear the words she speaks, but to be able to influence the direwolf from this distance... there must be some way to do something..."
It was necessary to find a way, some form of using this power.
"But it still doesn't explain my strength." Willian flexed his arm and gazed at the muscle that bulged.
He knew that having such a defined and muscular body needed extra hormones; a normal human body wasn't capable of crossing that threshold.
"...maybe it's just one secret among many that I still need to discover..."
At this point, the biggest challenge was getting back to sleep. His thoughts about warging had to be put on hold; he had a meeting with Lord Manderly the next day, where he was going to negotiate investments and an eventual tax on his activities.
With his eyes fixed on the rustic but well-kept walls of his room, he forced himself to sleep. Submerged once again in a wolf's dream.
-
Robb's gaze shifted to him. "Good morning, what's the matter?"
Willian tore a piece of the hard bread. He chewed the cold meat, feeling its fibrous texture. The taste of wine filled his mouth, and he felt the liquid burn as it went down his throat.
"...Oh, nothing much, Robb, just thinking about the investment proposal I organized."
Robb assessed him from head to toe. "If you don't want to say, that's fine. But don't lie, man. I know you and I know when something is bothering you."
Willian looked at Robb and felt that perhaps it would be reasonable to tell him about the warging, it shouldn't be that secret, and also nothing would prevent him from asking for it to be kept secret.
"I'll tell you another time, this isn't the place." Willian pointed with his eyes to the figure of Theon Greyjoy, who was drinking wine and looking at the serving girls at the table.
Robb smiled. "Of course. Later, then."
Jon appeared in the hallway, dragging his feet, his face marked by a restless night.
"Don't tell me you did something you shouldn't have..." Willian stated lightly with a half-smile.
"No... I mean... who knew Ghost would be so much trouble last night..." Jon began to speak tiredly.
Robb's eyes widened. "Ghost too? Last night Grey Wind was agitated too; it was difficult to get him to be quiet."
Willian's gaze shifted to his cousins, a question in his eyes.
Jon sighed. "And how did you get Grey Wind to calm down? I just couldn't get Ghost to be quiet."
Robb gave a short laugh. "Well... I just went to sleep and let him do whatever he wanted... it's not like he could do anything dangerous or anything like that..."
Jon's eyes widened.
Willian chuckled. "Well thought, Robb."
Footsteps echoed, drawing the boys' attention.
"Lord Manderly requests your presence, my lord." A strange knight appeared near them.
Willian nodded in agreement and rose to follow him.
"See you later."
-
"Step inside." Lord Wyman's tired voice emanated from the room's interior.
The servant proceeded inside, while Willian waited outside.
"Of course, of course, don't make the boy wait... call him in..."
The servant returned, his face flushed.
"Lord Willian, Lord Wyman wishes to see you, please, step in." The servant made way for Willian to pass through.
He just nodded in agreement and entered the room.
The first thing he smelled was the strong scent of whiskey and the second was that of a feminine perfume.
'Apparently the previous night was lively for Wyman...'
Wyman Manderly was already standing, waiting for him. When he saw him enter, a smile formed on his wrinkled face.
"My boy, good that you came." He then pulled up a chair. "Sit here."
"Lord..." Willian began to make the basic courtesy.
Wyman waved his arms. "No need for that, come, sit."
Willian smiled and nodded his head. "Of course."
He took some parchments and put them on the table.
"These are the businesses you intend to conduct in my White Harbor." He then pulled out other papers. "These here are my proposals."
"May I?" Willian extended his hand toward the parchment.
"Of course, you must." Wyman nodded his head.
Gazing at Wyman's proposals, they were within what he had already imagined, just the slightly high tax on his guild's businesses.
"And so...? Are they to your liking? See, I've carefully evaluated them and these are fair values." Lord Wyman emphasized 'fair'.
'Trying to limit me by honor...'
Willian smiled politely. "Lord Manderly, your proposals are 'fair'..." he chewed.
"But here is my counter-proposal. Instead of paying this tax on trade, I plan to sell you a part of the guild, so we share profits without anyone 'bleeding' the other."
Lord Manderly gave a strange laugh.
"And how much would this part be, and the price?"
"I would sell you 1/20 of the participation in this guild..."
"1/20? That's too little..." Wyman interrupted him.
Willian raised a hand, asking for calm.
"1/20 of the profit participation, without needing to worry about anything else."
"And the price?" Wyman asked curiously.
"The price is allowing me to make all the investments and businesses I told you about." Willian pointed to the parchments.
"Even if it's only on the profit... if I keep my tax, it would be more beneficial for me." Wyman gave a questioning look.
"That's true in the short term. In the long term, I would have to move my focus to another place and then turn the guild in White Harbor into a mere branch."
Wyman was silent, tapping his fingers against the wood of the table.
"...so you're saying that if I don't agree to your requests, you won't invest as much in my city anymore and that I'll have long-term losses. I hope that's not a threat." Manderly stared at him firmly.
Willian ran a hand through his hair, allowing a moment to pass.
"Let's be reasonable. Why would I invest so much in a place to bleed 1/5 of my profit? I am most certainly not a fool to go along with something like that."
"What if I reduce it to 1/6?" Wyman insisted on his tax.
"It would still be too much. I can ask my uncle to sell me some territory and then all the profit would be mine." Willian played another card.
"But that would take a long time and you would have to wait years, White Harbor already has a functional port." Wyman went all in on this easier target.
"True. And all we need to know is..." Willian's eyes scanned the room. "what matters more to me, bleeding or waiting."
Wyman was silent again.
"If I accept the 1/20... would you make White Harbor your commercial center?"
Willian's gaze met his, firm and unyielding.
"If things remain mutually beneficial, yes. Otherwise, no."
Wyman held out a hand, resigned.
"Then we have an agreement, Willian Corvinus. But know that the weight for me to accept this comes from Eddard."
"I'm happy about that." Willian smiled and clasped his hand, sealing the agreement.
-
Willian walked through the stone corridor. The air was cold and heavy with the smell of dampness and smoke. The sounds of Winterfell barely reached there. He saw Sansa standing ahead. She was on her feet, but with her shoulders stooped and her gaze fixed on the floor. Her hands were twisted in front of her body, rolling up a piece of ribbon. She was alone.
He neared her.
"Good morning."
Sansa gave a small start.
"~Ah, Willian." she put her hand to her chest. "G-Good morning."
Willian's eyes scanned the area; he saw no one.
"...where is your companion?"
She didn't answer. Her eyes darted sideways, avoiding his.
Willian drew closer.
"Sansa. What are you hiding?"
She tried to rise and flee, but his hand caught her arm mid-motion
"Sansa."
Her breath hitched. Color rushed to her cheeks, and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.
"...I had an argument with Jeyne..."
Willian sighed in relief; of all his problems, this one was easy to deal with.
"Look, Sansa... arguing with a friend isn't the end of the world."
"You don't understand, she'll never forgive me." Tears streamed down her face.
Willian met her gaze. "Maybe I can help if you tell me."
Sansa got redder and wiped the tears from her face and looked away.
"...I-I won't!" Her lips trembled.
Willian chuckled softly.
"Come on, tell me. I swear I won't judge you." He gave her a pat on the back to comfort her.
Sansa flushed even deeper.
"I can't!" She then ran off.
Willian remained still, his eyes on the fleeing young lady.
"I'm having a bad feeling…"