Afternoon, Dawn Market, outside Starfall.
The Dawn Market was bustling as ever, voices rising like steam in the warm afternoon air.
In the newly expanded plaza on the east side of the market, a three-meter-high oak platform cast a grim shadow.
Four high-backed chairs, carved with the sword-and-star sigil of House Dayne, were arranged neatly on the platform. Beside it stood a freshly built gallows, emitting the mingled stench of rot and blood.
Two dozen empty hemp ropes swayed gently in the breeze. Two others were occupied, suspending fresh corpses whose toes had already been pecked to the bone by crows.
Caw—
A bold crow tugged a strip of dark red flesh from a rotting eye socket, startling its fellows waiting nearby into flight.
The commoners gathered below whispered excitedly. Children stood on tiptoe to see, only to be yanked back by their collars by anxious mothers.
More than the tricks of wandering mummers, they were eager to see how the lords dispensed justice with a noose.
As Arthur wiped sweat from his brow and stepped into the plaza, the rhythmic tramp of Starfall guards behind him caused the crowd and vendors to part like the Red Sea.
He had just finished jousting practice with Daemon Sand, who had traveled all the way from Sunspear. Under his leather armor, his shirt was still damp with heat and sweat.
Below the high platform, Lord Franklyn Fowler, the "Old Hawk," and Lord Mathis Rowan were chatting amiably, smiling like old friends reunited.
"Good day, my lords."
Arthur's choice of judges was deliberate. The Red Mountains were a hotbed of historical conflict between Dorne, the Reach, and the Stormlands.
He had specifically avoided lords whose lands bordered Dorne directly. Lord Mathis Rowan's seat, Goldengrove, was in the northern Reach, while Lord Selwyn Tarth's island lay far off the coast of the Stormlands.
Neither had direct territorial disputes or blood feuds with Dorne.
"My lord!" A knight bearing the quartered sun-and-moon sigil of House Tarth on his breastplate approached, striking his gauntlet against his chest with a crisp clang.
"My master, Lord Selwyn, has taken his daughter hawking in Violet Canyon. He regrets he cannot attend today's judgment and bade me offer his apologies."
"No need, Ser." Arthur waved a hand with a smile. "Convey my regards to Lord Selwyn. May his hawks fly true."
The knight, helmetless and wearing a complicated expression, bowed and withdrew.
"Lord Selwyn has been trying his hardest to find a suitable match for his daughter lately," Lord Mathis Rowan remarked, having noticed Arthur's arrival.
"Truth be told, she is the tallest woman I have ever seen. I had the privilege of seeing her with a sword—she handles it better than most men."
Mathis Rowan was fit and clean-shaven, wearing a white doublet embroidered with the golden tree of House Rowan.
The "Old Hawk," Franklyn Fowler, gripped the beak-shaped head of his cane with knobbly fingers.
"The battlefield has no place for women. Their battlefield is the birthing bed. Lord Selwyn shouldn't have let her learn the sword."
The Old Hawk's words made Arthur think of Lady Nym, who had written to him from Skyreach just days ago.
In her letter, she claimed she was ready to duel his new paramour with daggers.
Arthur shook his head. You should really have this conversation with the Red Viper, my lord.
"My lords, let us begin without delay."
Arthur turned to the west side of the plaza. A dozen chained prisoners were huddled together like a bunch of rotting grapes. In the front row, a baker was nervously picking at a crack in his wooden yoke with nail-less fingers.
Once the three lords ascended the platform and took their seats, the guards brought forward the prisoners detained over the past few days.
The first few cases were minor. Three thieves, a baker mixing sawdust into his bread, a sellsword cheating at dice, and a whore spreading pox to her clients.
The thieves had a finger chopped off on an oak block.
The baker was fined fifty silver stags. Unable to pay, he was sentenced to ten lashes—one lash per stag. After the punishment, he limped away supported by his weeping wife.
The cheating sellsword had his cheating hand pierced with a dagger.
The whore was sentenced to wash herself with lye and then confined to the dungeon.
These punishments followed precedent and law, and the criminals were commoners, so judgment was swift.
"Lord Mathis!"
A man with the grapevine sigil of the Arbor embroidered on his chest suddenly struggled against his chains.
"I swear by the Warrior, I was so drunk two days ago I wouldn't have recognized my own mother! I didn't know she wasn't a whore!"
His eyes were bloodshot beneath swollen lids. "I will pay compensation! Silver stags, golden dragons—anything!"
Mathis Rowan frowned. "I recognize you, Ser Praed. You are a sworn sword of House Redwyne. Your conduct shames the Arbor and the Reach."
Rowan paused. "If the girl is willing to accept a settlement, there may be room for mercy. Where is the victim?"
A guard led a thin, small woman forward.
Her faded blue dress was mud-stained, and she had lost one straw shoe, revealing a bloody foot.
"Daisy... she... she can't agree... to a settlement... she's dead."
The woman's cracked lips trembled, tears cutting clean tracks through the dirt on her sun-beaten face.
"She had only just flowered... my lord..."
Rowan's face hardened. "You are the victim's mother? You..."
Ser Praed suddenly lunged, scratching a bloody line down the guarding soldier's face. "The peasant lies! I didn't kill the girl—"
"Enough." Arthur stood up.
"Ser Praed, you are guilty of rape and murder."
"I should have you gelded and then hanged. Since alcohol was your excuse, let it accompany you to the end. I permit you one skin of wine before your sentence is carried out."
Guards pinned Ser Praed to the ground. "No, my lord, you can't... I serve House Redwyne!"
The Old Hawk watched impassively. "Ser, this is Dorne, not the Arbor."
Soon, guards brought a skin of ale and forced it down Praed's throat. Amid the cheers of the crowd, he was publicly castrated and then hoisted onto the gallows.
He passed out from the castration and woke up just in time to die.
Mathis Rowan sighed. "Perhaps we didn't need to be so harsh. We could have given him a chance to take the black."
Rowan's wife was a Redwyne, so naturally, he had hoped for leniency.
Arthur watched the noose tighten around the knight's bulging neck. "His crime was too heinous. Without a severe example, such things will happen again."
Public judgment served justice, but it was also about killing the chicken to scare the monkeys.
With Starfall's territory so crowded and chaotic, only heavy penalties could ensure order.
The guards brought up the remaining serious criminals. Arthur maintained his hardline stance. By sunset, all judgments were rendered.
Beside Ser Praed, four Dornishmen swung, along with two eunuchs from the Stormlands and two noseless mummers from Tyrosh.
The four Dornishmen were bandits from Sandstone who had kidnapped and murdered travelers.
The two Stormlanders had refused to pay a prostitute, beaten her, and claimed she was willing—until the threat of hanging made them confess.
The two Tyroshi were mummers who had deliberately set fire to a rival puppet show stall during a fire-breathing act, causing severe burns to a man's arm and sparking a riot.
"Lord Mathis, Lord Franklyn."
After the judgments concluded, Arthur glanced at the dispersing crowd and stood.
"Would you two honor me with your presence for dinner? I would like to discuss those commercial ideas I mentioned earlier."
"Dinner after an execution." The Old Hawk shifted his gaze from the gallows to Arthur, a smile wrinkling the corners of his eyes. "It should have a unique flavor."
Hearing "commercial ideas," a shrewd light flashed in Mathis Rowan's eyes.
The Lord of Goldengrove stood up, smoothing his brocade tunic embroidered with golden oak leaves. "It would be my honor, Ser Arthur. I have been unable to forget your Amber Peach Wine."
Since Allyria and Edric had gone hawking in Violet Canyon with the other guests, it was just the three of them in the small dining hall of the main keep.
Servants brought out honey-roasted capon, lamb chops with onions, turnips, and peppers, and buttered bread.
Arthur raised his glass. "My thanks to you both for taking the time to assist with the judgments."
The Old Hawk raised his glass. "I'm old. I didn't plan to joust with the young ones for glory, so I have plenty of free time."
He took a sip, his Adam's apple bobbing in his white-stubbled throat, and sighed with satisfaction.
"Truth be told, more than the tourney, I am interested in your proposal regarding the sale of Amber Peach Wine."
Mathis Rowan immediately put down his bread and wiped his mouth with a napkin.
"Indeed, Ser. I am very interested in cooperation. Please elaborate."
Arthur smiled slightly, leisurely cutting his lamb chop with a silver knife. Pink juices seeped onto the plate.
The idea for cooperative sales came to him after realizing a partnership with Paxter Redwyne was unlikely. Inspired by Maester Oswell's suggestion to invite regional lords as judges, Arthur decided to apply the same logic to business.
He wanted to invite one powerful and respected lord from the Reach, Dorne, and the Stormlands to be the exclusive partner for selling Amber Peach Wine in their respective regions.
This would strengthen sales channels and promote the product without relying on a single monopoly like the Redwynes.
Instead of sharing judicial power on a platform, he was now sharing profit.
"Peach Orchard Manor will handle the production of Amber Peach Wine and other spirits. Transport and sales will be entrusted to an exclusive partner in each region."
"If you are willing, my lords, I would like to invite you to be the exclusive partners for the Reach and Dorne, selling the products of Peach Orchard Manor in these two regions."
The Old Hawk cut to the chase. "How will the profits be split?"
Arthur didn't answer immediately. He picked up the silver flagon engraved with the Starfall sigil and refilled their cups.
"Let's say a flagon of Amber Peach Wine is priced at 100 silver stags." Arthur tapped the flagon lightly.
"I will sell it to you for 70 silver stags—a thirty percent discount. Furthermore, partners only need to prepay half the total value of the goods. The remaining balance can be paid at the next procurement."
Mathis Rowan put down his knife and fork, his voice eager.
"Arthur, you mean we can buy Amber Peach Wine at seventy percent of the price, and initially only pay half the total value?"
The Old Hawk followed up immediately. "Is this true?"
If this deal went through, Skyreach would gain a valuable income stream with minimal cost—just transport and initial capital.
Moreover, since his castle guarded the Prince's Pass, if the wine was transported overland, he could even collect tolls on it.
"Words are wind. We can sign a contract after we agree on the terms," Arthur said.
"Let us discuss the contract immediately. It is best to get it in writing," the Old Hawk said.
"Agreed," said Rowan.
Arthur discussed the details as they ate. He laid out a modern agency model: defining exclusive territories, sales targets, pricing policies, return policies, and so on.
He also discussed mutual obligations.
For example, maintaining the brand image. Arthur guaranteed the quality; Rowan and Fowler guaranteed no counterfeit products.
No unauthorized price adjustments or cross-region sales. Payment schedules must be met.
Seeing the terms listed one by one, Mathis Rowan and Franklyn Fowler nodded repeatedly.
The detailed contract clearly defined obligations and benefits—the foundation of a long-term partnership.
They discussed late into the night, confirming the partnership and dividing the territories.
House Fowler of Skyreach would hold the agency for Dorne (excluding the Torrentine).
House Rowan of Goldengrove would hold the agency for the entire Reach.
"Do you intend for Lord Selwyn Tarth to handle the Stormlands?" Mathis asked.
"What about the other regions of the realm? I would also like to handle the Westerlands."
"The Stormlands are not decided yet. As for other regions..." Arthur paused.
"This model is just a trial. It needs time to be tested. Rolling it out everywhere at once might lead to problems we can't easily solve."
Arthur had ceded a significant portion of the profits to Mathis and Franklyn.
He did so not only to accelerate sales but also to build strong ties and mutual interests with powerful secondary houses across the Seven Kingdoms.
He wanted to use this model to win over a capable lord in each region, expanding his influence and preparing for the chaos that might come in the future.