Chapter 60

Aegor, unfamiliar with King’s Landing’s streets, relied on Tyrion’s knowledge of the city. While Tyrion didn’t know every corner like the back of his hand, he had lived there long enough to find what they needed. The two chatted as they walked, quickly arriving at the only professional seal-making shop in King’s Landing—one of the few across all of Westeros.

Though Westeros was far behind the world Aegor had come from, its unification under the Iron Throne had gradually introduced an understanding of laws and order. Much like how seal-making businesses in Aegor’s past required registration, seals in Westeros followed certain standards. They couldn’t just be carved on random stones and used freely. In King’s Landing, only seals made at this shop were recognized by nobles and wealthy merchants throughout the Seven Kingdoms.

Typically, such establishments catered only to those with status or significant assets. Aegor didn’t meet those qualifications, but he had two powerful documents to back him up.

Presenting papers signed and stamped by Eddard Stark and Jeor Mormont, Aegor secured the shopkeeper’s approval for his order. He commissioned a seal for himself as the "Chief Logistics Officer of the Night’s Watch"—a position that didn’t exist. But if his plan succeeded, he’d soon create this department and the role to legitimize his actions.

He ordered two seals: one as his personal identification and the other a wax seal for official correspondence. After discussing the designs with the craftsman, he turned to Tyrion. "Do you have a seal?"

"No," Tyrion admitted. For someone of his station, not having a seal was rare, but his situation was unique. As a Lannister, his family’s reputation for paying their debts, combined with his distinct physical appearance, meant he rarely needed a seal to prove his identity. Still, his status as the family outcast meant other nobles typically bypassed him to deal directly with Tywin or his siblings. Though Tyrion appeared indifferent, there was a trace of bitterness in his tone. "Might as well have one made while we’re here."

The infamous Imp needed no documentation to prove his identity. Another order was quickly arranged. Though formal seals were expensive, they were a minor expense compared to the scale of the operation the two were planning.

With that task complete, they mounted their horses and rode toward their next stop. As they went, Tyrion struggled to climb into his saddle and asked, "So, what’s next?"

"Paper, ink pads, sealing wax—all those supplies your attendants bought are ready. Now, we’re heading to a sign-making workshop."

"A sign-making workshop? Fine. But that’s not what I meant. You said you needed my help with this plan—what exactly am I supposed to do?"

"A lot," Aegor replied. "Your involvement skips over the hardest part of the initial setup and moves us straight into the early stages. If I were alone, I’d have to set an unreasonably high interest rate to attract attention and scrape together every dragon, no matter how small, from commoners. It would mean shamelessly begging for every bit of initial funding. But with you on board, I can start targeting middle and upper-class investors. That allows for reasonable returns and a minimum buy-in threshold, reducing the number of creditors while increasing their quality. A smaller creditor pool means a more stable cash flow and less administrative work."

Aegor thought for a moment before adding, "Your first task is simple: convince a few of your friends to buy my bonds. Just a handful will be enough to get things rolling."

"And you want me to swindle my own friends?" Tyrion asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Swindle?" Aegor shook his head. "The first investors are the least likely to lose out in this game. Their entry is critical, but once they’re on board, their involvement will give the next group confidence. As long as we control the total amount of funds, the cycle will continue smoothly. Someone has to start the chain. If you won’t talk to people you know, we’ll have to go door-to-door or stop random passersby in the street."

"Fine, I’ll do it," Tyrion said with a resigned sigh. He had already resigned himself to covering any shortfalls, so he wasn’t going to quibble over a non-essential point. "What exactly do I need to do?"

"It’s simple: introduce me to your friends and vouch for me. With endorsements from the Lord Commander and the Hand of the King, it shouldn’t take much convincing."

"Alright. You mentioned a minimum buy-in. How much are we talking?"

"A hundred gold dragons."

"A hundred?" Tyrion exclaimed. "King’s Landing might be the wealthiest city in the Seven Kingdoms, and the people I know might be able to afford it, but you’re asking them to lend money to the Night’s Watch, of all things. Most of them have never even met a member of the Watch before, and now you want them to fork over that much for something they don’t understand? That’s a tall order."

"It’s a round number," Aegor said nonchalantly. "I plan to issue fixed-interest, simple-interest, registered bonds. Remember the supplies I asked Morros and Jack to buy? Each bond will be made of high-quality vellum, treated with various anti-forgery measures, and finalized with signatures, seals, and fingerprints from all three parties involved. The production cost of each bond will exceed a silver stag. Without a high buy-in threshold, we’d have to issue hundreds or even thousands of bonds, which would make management a nightmare and drive up costs, destabilizing the cash flow."

"Fine, but what’s all this about fixed-interest, simple-interest, and registered bonds?" Tyrion asked.

"Fixed interest means the rate doesn’t change. Simple interest means the accrued interest doesn’t earn additional interest. Registered bonds mean each bond is tied to the creditor’s name. The first two make calculations and management easier, while the third ensures security and ownership, preventing issues like theft or loss. You’ll see what I mean when the time comes."

"Sounds complicated."

"There’s much more to it," Aegor admitted. "But let’s stick to the basics for now. For instance, what should the sign outside the Night’s Watch office say, and what design should we use?"

...

The sign-making workshop was much larger than the seal shop, as crafting signs required a considerable amount of space for production. To save on rent, the workshop was located in a slightly more remote area. After winding through several side streets, they arrived just as the sun began to set.

The workshop buzzed with activity. Around a dozen carpenters and laborers worked in a partially open space, crafting signs for the steady stream of new shops opening in King’s Landing. Despite the political undercurrents and power struggles among Westeros’ ruling class, the common folk were largely oblivious. To them, it seemed like an era of unprecedented peace and prosperity. Aegor couldn’t help but think: if the War of the Five Kings didn’t happen and winter never came, cities like King’s Landing might even see the seeds of capitalism take root.

The owner greeted them warmly. Unlike seal-making, which required verification and adherence to strict standards, making signs was straightforward: as long as you paid, they’d make whatever you wanted. After half an hour of discussion, they finalized the size, design, and details of the sign. With the deposit paid, Aegor and Tyrion returned to their inn late at night, the sky already shrouded in darkness.