"Since I have the opportunity to follow a noble, why should I risk running away?"
When saying this, Gendry's face was full of contempt, as if saying, "I'm just big-headed, not stupid."
Hearing this answer, Jon was a little surprised, "Oh? Tell me, how do you view nobles."
"Nobles are lords with titles. When encountering troubles they can't solve, they just need to give orders, or even muddle through by losing their temper or acting shamelessly perfunctorily."
"Uh, that's true too..." While surprised, Jon recalled the style of this poor child's father; it was indeed as he summarized.
"Right? Otherwise, you wouldn't have spent tens of thousands of Gold Dragons to exchange for the Stark surname and this territory, right?"
"No, I just did it for the lord's right of the first night."
"Huh?! That works too?"
"Idiot, you actually took it seriously..."
During the conversation, the two had already moved away from the inn and walked along the street.
Although these few streets weren't bustling, in front of one shop, there was a crowd of people coming in and out.
Judging from this situation, the goods sold here were obviously quite popular.
Upon stepping inside, Jon immediately noticed something was wrong.
Although it was full of fabrics, silk threads, buttons, and many things found in a tailor shop, the transmigrator always felt something was familiar.
Yes, familiar.
When he looked around repeatedly, he discovered the exquisitely cut ready-made clothes on the wall.
It wasn't until this moment that the new baron realized that the familiar feeling came from these hanging ready-to-wear clothes.
You know, in Westeros, whether commoners or nobles, if they wanted to get a piece of clothing, most of the time they had to ask a tailor or a leatherworker.
From measuring and cutting to sewing the finished product, a piece of clothing often required a lot of handwork. As for the quality, it depended entirely on two points.
First was the tailor's skill, which would directly determine the matching of fabrics and details.
Second, it couldn't be separated from the employer's requirements, including length, style, and occasion of wear. The style and specific color matching depended entirely on the client's own aesthetics.
Therefore, it can be said that every piece of clothing in Westeros can be counted as a unique item; there are absolutely no two exactly the same.
But in this shop, Jon actually saw familiar ready-made clothes, and they were batch-produced clothes with exactly the same style, only differing in size!
Seeing this scene, the transmigrator almost jumped up, just short of pointing at the boss's nose and questioning whether the other party was also a stranger from another world.
It was a pity that Jon's idea was destined not to be fulfilled, and he was bound to be the only despicable outlander.
The reason was simply that after calming down, the new baron had already observed this shop in depth.
Apart from the ready-made clothes, there were no elements here that could verify the transmigration code, so all this was just a beautiful misunderstanding.
After that, the transmigrator had to sigh heavily, and then let Gendry shout and choose clothes.
After all, when leaving King's Landing, the master and servant didn't have much luggage, so naturally, they didn't have extra clothes.
Now that they rarely saw finished products, anyone would want to unbox and open the package on the spot.
Therefore, rarely having this vague joy, Jon naturally wouldn't be stingy to share.
As a Gold Dragon was thrown by him and drew a perfect arc, the Bull immediately returned a grateful look with a man's tacit understanding, and then rushed to the counter on the side, wanting to dress himself up.
After all, in the years he worked as an apprentice, that damn boss always saved all clothing expenses on the grounds that blacksmiths didn't need clothes at all.
Except for a running-errand coat, the clothing bought for him most often was aprons tanned from raw cowhide.
Therefore, after the Bull pointed to a piece of clothing, he decisively tore off that messy coat, unable to wait to try on the new clothes.
However, when Gendry fully displayed his robust physique, the clerk did not present the ready-made clothes as he wished. Instead, she spread her palm and quoted a number that neither the Bull nor even Jon could accept.
"Five Gold Dragons. Thank you for your patronage!"
"Five... five?! Try saying that again!"
As Gendry's bull voice resounded through the entire shop, Jon also walked over upon hearing the sound.
He first looked at the numerous styles of clothing on the wall, then turned to face the young female clerk.
"Please forgive me, my squire is a bit reckless. But I'm also curious, what kind of clothes can be sold for five Gold Dragons?"
When saying this, Jon was as modest and polite as ever, with no abnormality in his tone. Instead, it became more gentle, faintly exuding the unique aura of a noble.
However, opposite him, the female clerk just smiled slightly, not affected at all.
"My Lord, you heard right. This Dorne lightweight robe is finely woven from desert cashmere. The fabric feels smooth, and the finished garment can be picked up on the same day. It's only five Gold Dragons."
Hearing this answer, Jon subconsciously wanted to turn his head to that ready-made garment, but he forced himself to pretend to be calm.
Although during his time in Westeros, he had received quite a few Silver Stags or Gold Dragons, he seemed never to have had the occasion to spend them.
Even when occasionally strolling through the stalls in Winterfell, because of his status, he didn't need to spend money at all.
But even so, Jon was confident that he understood the prices in Westeros.
In the North, a gray robe sewn from heavy wool material, let alone five Gold Dragons, probably wouldn't even cost five Silver Stags.
And in this remote place far from King's Landing, they dared to openly sell it for as high as five Gold Dragons. Did they take him for a sucker?
Therefore, Jon decisively suppressed his anger and pointed to the noble dress he fancied.
In his opinion, this silk evening dress from the Eastern Continent would be at most no more than ten Gold Dragons.
He wanted to see how this damn shop planned to rip him off?
However, in the next moment, the female clerk showed a professional smile and spread her palm towards Jon again.
"My Lord indeed has good taste. This evening primrose silk dress produced in the Summer Sea best suits your fair skin."
"Thanks for your patronage. For only fifty Gold Dragons, you can wear it to a banquet."
Hearing that a flimsy dress dared to ask for fifty Gold Dragons, Jon could hardly believe his ears.
You know, such a sum of money was enough to buy a full set of infantry armor or a half-set of standard knight armor.
Compared to this dress that could only be worn at a banquet, those armors could win glory and power for warriors while saving their lives.
But in this ready-to-wear shop, it could only be exchanged for a piece of clothing without much practical use. It was truly an out-and-out rip-off shop.
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