Chapter 115 - Artican Trade in Westeros 42 (Reach 22!).

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[Chapter Size: 3300 Words.]

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Pessoa Thrid POV

Westeros, 295 AC.

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Jon and his group traveled by carriage to the Tyrell castle. The lights shone brightly in the windows, reminiscent of the last feast Jon attended. The carriages, just like the last feast, stopped at the main entrance, where Willas Tyrell awaited to receive them once again.

Willas approached, leaning on his cane, with a cordial smile on his face. "Good evening, King Jon. It is an honor to welcome you again, good to see you and your champion." He said, looking at Eldric.

"Good evening, Lord Willas," Jon replied, extending his hand.

"It was a magnificent display this afternoon," Willas commented. "I've never seen anyone hit a target at 125 meters with such precision." He smiled, and Eldric nodded.

Willas offered bread and salt to Jon once again. Jon accepted and took a bite, confirming his commitment to peace while at the castle.

"Please, follow me. The feast is just beginning," Willas requested, and Jon followed him with his group.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome the group from Artica and their champion! The Reach is honored to receive them once again in our halls!" The castle's herald, who was not the tournament's herald, introduced them to everyone present.

The door to the hall opened, revealing once more a hall full of nobles dressed in fine attire, conversing animatedly and savoring the food and drink, many of which were Artican.

In the middle of the hall, Renly smiled, regaining his composure after losing it due to the bet won by Jon. However, he quickly resumed his diplomatic posture, "My guests! Come and bring your champion!" he said, extending his hand to Jon and his group.

"Prince Renly," Jon greeted with a small nod before proceeding to the main table once again, with a place reserved for Eldric himself.

"So here is our champion with 125 meters. He is truly an archer anyone would want in their army." He spoke, drawing the attention of all the nobles to Eldric. Despite the archery tournament being the weakest, an archer with such skills was enviable.

"Thank you, Prince Renly. Eldric is a talented archer, just like my sister Arya," Jon replied, casting a proud glance at Arya, who smiled shyly.

"Yes, how could I forget our little archer, or as she was called, the Lady of the Bow!" He pointed to Arya once more, making everyone look at the girl, but without the previous disdain, after all, she secured fourth place at only 11 years old, defeating many experienced adults.

"I am sure my brother, the King of Westeros, will love this story in King's Landing, seeing that the daughter of his best friend has such talent. Let's have a round of applause for her. Lady Arya showed great courage and skill, worthy of being a Stark of Winterfell!" He exclaimed as the entire hall applauded her.

Arya felt quite shy about it but also proud, despite still aiming to win the tournament. "Don't rush, you should be better than Ygritte when she was this age, so be proud of yourself." Seryna spoke beside her, seeming to read her thoughts.

After that, the hall began to return to normal as everyone started conversing with one another, either starting topics or flattering higher nobles.

The music resumed, and the atmosphere relaxed with couples heading to the dance floor, and conversations flowed animatedly. Jon and Seryna were invited to dance, while Arya remained at the table, just like the last time.

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