Chapter 33
Leaving the matter of his possible engagement aside.
He made a trip to Steam Town to inaugurate the cement factory and observe the first day's operations.
"My lord," Philip said, greeting him with a smile.
"Philip, how have you been?" Harry said with a smile as he approached.
"I've been in good health, my lord," Philip replied with a smile as he joined Harry on the way to the factory.
Although it was called a factory, there was nothing impressive about it, just a brick building that had once been used as a warehouse for the rails.
Two large furnaces had been installed by Harry a few weeks earlier, along with several tools.
The crackling of the furnaces could barely be heard as a wave of heat struck them the moment they entered.
"My lord," several men called out when they saw him enter. They all wore open shirts because of the heat, and several had sweat covering their foreheads.
"Hm, Lord Harry will be observing your work. You already know your jobs, so just work as you normally do," Philip said, looking at the men.
"Yes, sir," they all replied before immediately getting to work.
Two men approached the furnace and opened the coal hatch. Taking metal shovels, they began shoveling coal into the furnace, the shovels scraping across the floor before striking the edges of the hatch, creating a constant metallic noise.
The furnace door opened with a loud metallic sound before they slid two trays with hooks inside.
Harry waited patiently as he watched them work. The temperature quickly rose while a faint smell of smoke filled the building.
Nodding slightly, he looked at everyone with satisfaction.
They looked quite skilled compared to the first time he had taught them.
After a while, the limestone was ready. Using two metal hooks, they pulled out the tray and emptied its contents into a large metal container before refilling the furnace.
"Have you calculated how many sacks we can produce in a day?" Harry asked, looking at Philip.
"Around a thousand sacks per day. The volcanic ash sacks are easier to produce—we can easily make fifteen hundred of those a day," Philip said with some excitement. He had seen the miniature castle Harry had made using the material.
And he had experimented a little with the mixture over the past few weeks.
It was incredibly easy to build with. Once dry, it was very durable and could even harden underwater.
"Hm, load the train and send the sacks to Winterfell. Use the rest to build the city," Harry said with a nod.
"We can renovate the foundry and build a larger cement factory. The city's government building can also be made bigger and more imposing."
"It also solves the problem of the bridges needed to build the line to White Harbor," Philip said, growing more excited.
"Find someone who knows how to build bridges so they can become familiar with the cement," Harry said with a nod, remembering the matter.
"I'll take care of it," Philip replied with a nod.
Harry spent the rest of the day observing the entire process, from the limestone to the cement already packed into sacks.
Smiling, Harry looked at the stacked sacks. This not only had the potential to change the North; someday, once he began selling it, it could also change the world.
....
A week later, the train arrived at Winterfell Station, and several men approached the wagons, ready to unload their cargo.
Forming a human chain, they unloaded thousands of sacks in a single day, ready to be used.
With the workers prepared, Harry also got to work.
The castle's main gate was closed, and a group of men dug several centimeters into the ground.
Harry also took advantage of the darkness of the night and used magic to shape the earth, creating drainage channels that led to the moat between the two walls.
That way, the water would have somewhere to flow when it rained, preventing puddles from forming.
With the ground prepared, Harry sat down and watched the first builders work with the cement. This was their first official project, and it was being done directly in Winterfell, so he noticed that some of them seemed rather nervous.
Once the mixture was ready, it was poured across the entire courtyard. It leveled itself by gravity, while the workers dragged long wooden boards across the surface to make it as flat as possible.
It was a rudimentary method, but there were no better options at the moment.
The drainage channels he had made were also covered with wooden boards so the cement would not flood them.
In a single day, the main courtyard was completely covered with cement.
To prevent anyone from stepping onto the fresh cement, he stationed several guards around the area to block anyone from entering.
Fortunately, the weather was sunny during those days. If it had rained, he would have had to put in a bit more effort.
After four days, the surface was already quite dry, at least enough to walk on, though he still did not allow carts to enter.
The new pavement was immediately praised by his family, who also found the mud that used to form quite annoying.
His father also urged him to pave the entire castle, a word Harry had used before that no one had understood.
With the castle courtyard finished, Harry began paving roads inside the walls and any other areas where it was necessary.
Places like the stables were only partially paved, while the training yard was not paved at all. It was better to leave it as dirt in case someone fell.
All of that took them a week. Then Harry turned his attention to the main road leading out of Winterfell, passing through Winter Town and connecting to the Kingsroad.
But this was a bit more complicated, since it would affect the many people constantly traveling through it.
Harry thought it over, but in the end still gave the order to proceed. Progress required sacrifices.
For now, they would only pave the section up to the end of Winter Town, so carts could still travel through other streets, which were narrower but at least remained passable.
Many people immediately came to ask questions when they saw workers digging up the road, which actually wasn't in bad condition. It had been well compacted. The problem was that potholes constantly formed, and whenever they were filled in, they turned into mud.
So his men quickly got to work. The people could only grumble, but there was no one they could complain to.
Thus, almost two months later, the road was finally ready for wagons to travel on.
Harry hastened the drying process a little with magic and corrected a few small imperfections.
The reason for the hurry was that House Tyrell was about to arrive.
A raven had come from White Harbor announcing their arrival. They had left several days earlier, so Harry assumed they could arrive at any moment.
Looking at the solid, mud-free ground of his castle, Harry smiled with satisfaction as he climbed his tower.
Val was lying on her side in his bed, asleep.
Her blonde hair was spread across the bed behind her, her dress had ridden up to her knees, and her sleeping face lacked both the mischievous expression she usually wore when looking at him and the cold gaze she reserved for strangers.
Harry ignored the tempting sight and walked over to the window before sitting on the windowsill. After finding Val in compromising positions far too many times upon returning to his room, he had realized that she was doing it on purpose.
Ever since the paving project had begun, he had been so busy that he had not even had time for Dacey.
Supervising the construction, subtly correcting mistakes with magic, making sure foolish townsfolk did not step onto his road.
There had been two such incidents in which he had no choice but to pretend to repair the damage while discreetly using magic.
Both people were naturally punished.
Every day they were repeatedly told that they simply could not pass through for a short time.
But as the road extended farther, the area that needed to be guarded also became larger. During one moment of carelessness, someone tried to run across to the other side rather than turn back.
Harry was not particularly ruthless with the punishment. The man only received a light beating to frighten everyone else.
Despite the complaints, Harry noticed that everyone seemed quite pleased with the new road, which also left him feeling satisfied.
From the top of his tower, it looked truly impressive. He almost felt as if he had returned to his previous world.
All that was missing were cars and skyscrapers.
At that moment, the door opened, and Arya's little head peeked inside. She looked at him before giving him a smile.
Skipping over, she climbed onto the windowsill and sat on his lap.
"Mom said a raven arrived. The Tyrells will be here tomorrow," Arya said as she also looked out the window.
Harry hummed to show he understood while his fingers played with the strands of black hair framing her small face.
"I like the new pavement, but it really hurts when you fall on it, so don't try it," Arya said, making Harry let out a quiet laugh.
"Where did you hurt yourself?" Harry asked, looking at her.
Arya lifted her skirt to her knee, showing him a fairly recent wound.
Placing his hand over it, Harry quickly healed the abrasions within a few seconds.
"Remember to tell me whenever you get hurt," Harry said, kissing the back of her head.
"Brother, when I turn nine, can I finally learn to use a bow?" Arya asked as she turned to look at him.
"Hm, that's right. That was the deal with Mom," Harry replied with a nod.
"Great," Arya said softly.
"I'll make a bow especially for you on your birthday," Harry said with a smile.
"Thank you," Arya said, kissing Harry on the cheek.
From the bed, Val lazily watched Harry. Seeing him be so affectionate with his sisters made her feel something she couldn't quite explain.
....
The next day.
A carriage in shades of green with a golden rose moved at a moderate pace, while more than a hundred riders surrounded it from every direction.
"It's cold," said a girl of around fourteen, with softly curled brown hair and large brown eyes.
"It is. Isn't it wonderful? I've never felt air this cold before," Olenna said with interest as she looked at the landscapes, completely different from those of the south.
Margaery looked at her grandmother without saying anything. She did not like it very much; it looked somewhat deserted and inhospitable.
Unlike the Reach, where there were villages every few dozen kilometers.
"Winter is coming," Olenna said in a dramatic tone.
"It was funny the first twenty times you did it, Grandmother," Margaery said, speechless at the childish attitude her grandmother could sometimes have.
"I wonder what Harry Stark looks like. Will he be a muscular two-meter-tall man covered in leather clothing?" Margaery said, beginning to ramble.
"Careful, curiosity is dangerous," Olenna said with a chuckle.
"Besides, the young wolf is the same age as you, around fourteen," Olenna said with a slight smile.
"Although there are rumors saying that he is truly exceptional and already rules the entire North."
"There are far too many crazy rumors in White Harbor. The truth is, I'm also looking forward to meeting him," Olenna said, looking out the window.
"You do know that if I marry Harry Stark, I'll stay in the North, right? What will you do without your granddaughter?" Margaery joked.
The two of them joked with each other until a voice from outside told them that Winterfell was already in sight.
Both immediately looked out the window and saw the enormous castle. Its double walls of dark gray stone had an ancient and intimidating air.
"It's much larger than Highgarden," Margaery said, somewhat surprised.
"Winterfell is one of the oldest castles in existence. Its construction began more than eight thousand years ago," Olenna said with an appreciative look.
Despite the enormous castle, the town surrounding it did not seem particularly large.
When the carriage approached the castle, the ground caught Olenna's attention. It looked far too clean, though because her eyesight was no longer what it used to be, she did not pay much attention to it.
That was until the wheels of the carriage rolled onto the new road.
The smoothness with which it moved was incredible. If not for the window showing her that they were still moving, she would have thought they had stopped.
Grandmother and granddaughter looked at each other in surprise, but they had no one to ask.
Their carriage caught the attention of the people, who looked with surprise at the House's emblem, since they had never seen it before.
Olenna, of course, paid attention to the common people. They usually said a great deal about their rulers. It did not surprise her that everyone looked healthy; the reputation of House Stark was known throughout Westeros.
The people seemed well-fed and had hopeful expressions.
Passing without trouble through the castle's great gate, the riders entered along with the carriage, stopping before quickly opening the carriage door so Olenna and Margaery could get out.
Olenna stepped down with assistance, and the first thing she did was look at the ground. It almost looked like an enormous carved stone had been placed there, but that was clearly impossible.
Margaery, who could not see with her grandmother in the way, stuck her head out and also looked around, only to realize that the Stark family seemed to be waiting for them and watching them.
A little embarrassed, she quickly pulled her head back while gently touching her grandmother's back so she would move.
Olenna, unfamiliar with the word shame, looked toward the Starks with a smile while watching her granddaughter being helped down by her grandson.
"Welcome to Winterfell," Ned said, looking at the guests with the most cordial expression he could manage.
The three Tyrells approached and returned the greetings.
Olenna immediately focused on the one she assumed was Harry. He was a tall, attractive young man with broad shoulders.
The moment their eyes met, his striking green eyes caught her attention. The way he looked at them as if evaluating them made her think that he did not know much about them.
She had to admit that if she were younger, she would not mind marrying him in her granddaughter's place.
And glancing sideways, her granddaughter also seemed quite interested in the young wolf.
Unable to hold her tongue, Olenna asked about the ground as they walked toward the guest house.
It was not only in the courtyard; paths made of the same material led to the guest house.
"It's a construction material. It's called cement," Harry said, glancing at her before answering.
Apparently noticing her confusion, he continued.
"Before it is applied, it is similar to mud. It hardens over time," Harry said as the group reached the building.
Olenna wanted to continue speaking with the handsome young man, but Catelyn quickly guided everyone and arranged their rooms, then told them that the welcoming banquet was ready.
Harry did not say anything else either and left with the rest of his family, leaving their guests to rest for a moment and prepare for the banquet.
"So? What did you think of the young Stark?" Olenna said, looking at her granddaughter.
"He looks quite good," Margaery said with a giggle.
Loras beside her almost nodded before quickly looking away.
"I like this place. It is clean and elegant without being ostentatious," Olenna said, looking around.
"I hate going to King's Landing. Sometimes it feels as though the royal court is ruling over a pile of shit rather than a city," Olenna said, feeling nauseous as she remembered the smell she had endured while they boarded the ship.
"Maybe it's because of the cold," Margaery said with a nod. It had been her first visit to the capital, and it had not left a very good first impression.
"Good, let's hurry. I'm curious to see what they eat in the North," Olenna said, quickly walking outside.
Her two grandchildren followed her helplessly. The old woman seemed more excited than they were.
The aurochs meat was delicious, and the rye bread, butter, sausages, and stews left all the guests very satisfied.
They were all foods with a high nutritional content, necessary for staying warm in the cold North.
Harry ate calmly while observing. The old woman Olenna seemed to be speaking with his mother, but his mother did not seem impatient either and did not bring up the subject of marriage.
They only spoke about the journey, things about the North, reminding her to dress warmly, and so on.
Margaery seemed to be speaking with Sansa, but he noticed that they did not appear to share the same interests.
Something he found curious, since the interests and customs Sansa and his mother seemed to follow came from the south.
Loras seemed to have been approached by Theon and Jon, the latter somewhat awkwardly.
They spoke about swords, horses, and great knights they admired.
Although Harry did not believe that Theon, being from the Iron Islands, knew much about knighthood.
At that moment, Arya climbed down from her chair without her mother noticing before moving to his side and pushing him so she could sit beside him.
"What is it?" Harry whispered beside her with a smile.
"Does Mom want you to marry that girl?" Arya asked in a low voice.
"It seems so. You don't like her?" Harry said, amused.
"I don't know. She looks very weak," Arya said, looking at Margaery appraisingly. She was used to seeing Dacey and Val fighting and embracing her brother.
Margaery still looked like a child in comparison. Her thin arms looked as though they would break if she picked up a sword.
"Of course. There's no way anyone could be stronger than my little Arya," Harry said, smiling affectionately at her as he offered her something to eat.
The small and seemingly insignificant interaction between Harry and his sister was subtly observed by Olenna as she continued speaking.
Nodding inwardly, Harry seemed to be a very affectionate person with his family. His expression did not look false in the slightest, and the love he felt for his younger sister seemed to overflow from him.
The meal had already ended, and Harry noticed that all the guests seemed warm after such heavy food.
"Harry, why don't you show Lady Margaery and Ser Loras around the castle?" Catelyn said, looking at Harry with a smile that almost seemed to say, dare to refuse.
"Of course," Harry said, standing up as he looked at the siblings.
Both nodded politely as they also stood and followed Harry out of the dining hall.
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