The pale yellow blocks sat on wooden boards.
They gave off a strange mix of animal fat and alkali.
Sansa's brow furrowed deeper.
This is what Lynn spent an entire afternoon making? With rancid fat and filthy ash?
It doesn't look like much.
"That smell... it's awful."
Arya pinched her nose. Brutally honest.
Even quiet Myrcella stepped back half a pace.
She'd watched the entire process. Her pretty face full of rejection.
"Don't rush."
Lynn ignored their disgust. Turned to a box nearby.
Pulled out several delicate glass bottles.
Inside—colorful liquids. Dried flower petals. Herbs.
"What's that?"
Arya's curiosity reignited.
"Roses. Lavender. Mint..."
Lynn paused.
Maester Aemon.
If he were alive—if he knew I was using his herbalism for this—
What would his face look like?
Lynn sighed. Pushed the thought away.
He uncorked one bottle.
A rich, pure rose fragrance flooded the courtyard.
Sansa's eyes lit up.
One bottle must be worth a fortune. Noblewomen could use it to scent clothes or baths.
Lynn tossed a small block of "soap" back into the pot. Melted it over low heat.
Dripped in rose oil. Sprinkled crushed rose petals.
Stirred gently with a wooden stick.
The strange fatty smell was replaced by lush floral fragrance.
When the liquid solidified again—cut into pale pink squares—
—everyone stared.
This wasn't crude lye anymore.
This was art.
Pale pink paste dotted with deep red petals. Radiating intoxicating rose scent.
Lynn held one out to Sansa.
"Try it?"
Sansa hesitated.
But the scent was irresistible.
She extended slender fingers. Carefully took the cooled soap.
A servant brought a basin of water.
Sansa dipped her hands. Rubbed gently like Lynn had shown.
The next second—
—her eyes widened.
Dense, delicate, impossibly smooth foam surged from her fingers.
Softer than the finest velvet.
Lighter than the smoothest silk.
She instinctively washed her hands and face with the lather.
Not rough like sand.
Not stinging like lye.
This was unprecedented gentleness.
Like a lover's caress.
When she rinsed with clean water—
—she froze.
Lifted her hands. Stared at her skin.
Her hands—already well-maintained from embroidery and etiquette—
—now glowed like jade in sunlight.
Smooth. Almost wet to the touch.
Most shocking—
—the elegant rose scent had seeped into her skin.
An indescribable, captivating aroma.
Sansa murmured incoherently. Touched her face—smooth as a newborn's.
Her blue eyes held world-shattering wonder.
"Let me try! Let me try!"
Arya couldn't wait.
She grabbed a mint-scented bar. Washed eagerly.
"Wow! So cool! So refreshing!"
She thrust her hand under Sansa's nose.
"Sansa, smell! Isn't it nice?"
Sansa pushed her away in disgust.
But her gaze never left her own flawless hands.
Myrcella gathered courage. Picked up a lavender bar.
When the delicate foam wrapped her small hands—
—the little princess's face showed delight.
"My lord..."
Steward Rob's voice trembled.
He watched the three noble girls—entranced.
He'd been a merchant once.
He knew what this little bar of soap meant.
All of Westeros—every noblewoman—still uses primitive, skin-damaging methods to clean.
If this appears in King's Landing's markets...
Rob felt dizzy.
Mountains of gold dragons.
Lynn wanted exactly this.
Wars are fought with men—but men don't appear from thin air.
Gold dragons are the passport to armies.
Without money, this transmigrator is useless.
"You'll handle mass production of regular soap."
Lynn handed him the parchment formula.
"Remember. Fast."
"Don't disappoint me."
Lynn turned to the three girls.
"You three handle the more important part."
He pointed at the bottles of spices and oils.
"Sansa."
Sansa straightened instinctively.
"You know noblewomen's tastes best."
"I need you to create at least ten different scents. Each with its own name. Its own story."
"This..."
Sansa's heart pounded.
"For example—this rose scent. We'll call it 'Highgarden Love.'"
"This lavender one—'Dornish Dream.'"
Lynn smiled.
"You're the princess from the stories. Crafting these should be easy."
Sansa's cheeks flushed.
But her blue eyes blazed with unprecedented light.
This isn't just making soap.
This is giving beauty a soul.
"Arya."
Arya stood like a little soldier.
"Your job—follow Steward Rob. Supervise the craftsmen. Ensure every bar is flawless."
"Got it!"
Arya ran off excitedly.
Better than boring ledgers.
Finally, Lynn looked at Myrcella.
The little princess clutched her skirt nervously.
"And you, Princess Myrcella."
Lynn crouched. Met her green eyes.
"Your task is simplest. And most important."
"Bathe with the most expensive soap every day. Become the cleanest, most fragrant princess in King's Landing."
"You're our best advertisement."
Myrcella nodded, half-understanding.
She stared at this man.
Who is he?
How does he know such incredible things?
He turns crude materials into miracles that make princesses swoon.
He's nothing like the terrible demon Mother described.
Lynn stood. Surveyed his strange "startup team."
A future Queen in the North.
A future Faceless Man.
A Baratheon princess.
"Our goal—empty every noble's purse in King's Landing. Make them gladly pay for their wives' beauty."
"Understood?"
"UNDERSTOOD!"
Three voices in unison.
Even quiet Myrcella was excited.
Deep Night
When the girls had fallen asleep—dreaming of the future—
—Lynn's study still blazed with light.
Steward Rob placed new accounts on the desk.
"My lord. As ordered, the first batch—one thousand bars of regular soap—is ready."
"Good."
Lynn nodded.
"Starting tomorrow, all seven brothels must provide soap in every room. Teach the girls how to use it."
"But... my lord."
Rob hesitated.
"Something this precious—giving it away free—isn't that wasteful?"
"Wasteful?"
Lynn smiled.
"Rob. Remember this. The most expensive commodity isn't the product itself."
"It's the habit."
"Let them get used to cleanliness. Used to feeling respectable."
"When they can't live without it—what do you think the men paying will do?"
Rob's body jolted.
He understood instantly.
His gaze at Lynn filled with awe.
This isn't just business.
This is maximizing influence at minimal cost.
"I understand, my lord!"
"Go."
Lynn waved him off.
"I'm eager to see how those men—who usually think with their desires—react when they smell clean soap on a woman."
───── ⊹ ⊹ ─────
📖 80+ chapters ahead — full story available
🔍 Search "patreon.com/DarkGolds
───── ⊹ ⊹ ─────