Inside the throne hall of the Stone Drum Tower, several emissaries from the Iron Bank of Braavos stood respectfully.
Each of them wore plain but well-fitted brown coats. Their beards were braided into thin strands that hung neatly down their chests.
These men were the descendants of the original "Keyholders," the founders of the Iron Bank.
The Keyholders held a profound understanding of wealth. To them, money was more than just currency—it was a tool, a weapon, armor, and a sword.
In their eyes, gold was their servant, their soldier, and their shield.
They made wealth work for them.
The Iron Bank was like an unfathomable creature, its tentacles spread across the known world. And to the ears of the world, it had only one resounding creed—
[The Iron Bank will have its due]
If a common man owed them money, the Bank would make his life unbearable.
If a king was in debt, the Iron Bank would throw its support behind that king's enemies—making the throne an uneasy seat.
And if the enemies succeeded in toppling the monarch, they wouldn't just inherit the crown—they would also inherit all of the debts, both their predecessor's and their own.
"Father didn't take out a loan from the Iron Bank, did he?"
On the way to the throne hall, Viserys asked Rhaella quietly.
There were still three or four million gold dragons left on Dragonstone, and he had plans for every last coin. The thought of Aerys, that reckless spendthrift, having left him some massive financial trap made him uneasy.
"I don't think so. The treasury at King's Landing was overflowing. He had no reason to borrow from the Iron Bank," Rhaella replied, trying to recall clearly.
Viserys nodded, but his heart ached all the same.
The royal treasury and the Targaryen family vault were always kept separate. The kingdom's treasury was in King's Landing, while the family's wealth was stored on Dragonstone.
If only all that money had been moved to Dragonstone…
Chances were, it had all been squandered by that damned Robert.
Soon, mother and son arrived in the throne hall. Rhaella took her seat on the throne and addressed the visitors.
"I wonder what brings the esteemed guests of the Iron Bank across the sea?"
She spoke as the host.
Though Viserys had already been crowned king and held undeniable authority on Dragonstone, the two had agreed beforehand that in matters of diplomacy, Viserys would act the part of a young, inexperienced monarch.
This approach was meant to lower their guests' guard and, hopefully, lead to unexpected advantages.
Their little tactic worked flawlessly.
The Keyholders, seeing Viserys standing there blankly, paid him little mind. Their attention was fixed squarely on Rhaella.
"Your Grace, this is a token of our respect. We hope you will accept it," said the lead Keyholder.
His beard, also intricately braided, was the longest—nearly reaching his navel.
His name was Nahor. According to the original timeline, Littlefinger would later become Master of Coin and regularly borrow from the Iron Bank to support Robert's lavish spending.
Nahor, in this case, was the Bank's chief representative for its "business" in Westeros.
Seven large chests were opened one after another.
Inside were fine jewelry, garments, and treasures. Gold, onyx, crystal, and silk overflowed from the containers, nearly spilling onto the floor.
For a moment, it was as if a radiant glow filled the hall.
Of course, Rhaella—having once been queen—had seen such riches before. She merely offered a polite thank you.
After this elaborate prelude, Nahor finally got to the point.
"Your Grace, we've come to propose a business arrangement with House Targaryen."
"A business arrangement?" Rhaella repeated.
"Yes, Your Grace. We've heard that House Targaryen is considering establishing a new homeland on the continent of Essos.
Forgive my frankness, but maintaining such a vast fleet must be a heavy burden for a house no longer seated on the Iron Throne.
Should you be willing to part with some of your warships, we would be very interested in purchasing them—at a fair price."
Nahor's tone was calm and measured. Kings, dukes, governors, and princes—he had dealt with them all.
But more than anything, his confidence came from the authority of the Iron Bank behind him.
Buying warships?
As expected, merchants and bankers never came without an eye for profit.
Viserys lowered his gaze. In truth, he had already considered cutting the fleet by half—or even more.
The Iron Bank's initiative caught him off guard.
This organization was far more proactive than he had expected.
Rhaella, aware of Viserys's thoughts and having already discussed the matter with Gerold and the others, agreed that the fleet would need to be downsized after leaving Dragonstone. She responded:
"House Targaryen is indeed considering selling a portion of its fleet. May I ask what price the Iron Bank is offering, and how many ships it intends to buy?"
Nahor smiled slightly.
"We are prepared to purchase around thirty warships.
Depending on their condition, we are willing to offer between one thousand and three thousand gold dragons per vessel."
Tch—
Viserys sneered inwardly.
These people were like sharks who had smelled blood. Three or five thousand gold dragons for a warship?
The cost of building a Targaryen warship ranged between eight thousand and fifteen thousand gold dragons. His personal flagship had cost upwards of thirty thousand.
Even the older ships he was considering selling were worth far more than their offer.
They were clearly trying to take advantage of him.
Wait—
A sudden realization struck Viserys.
The Iron Bank was based in Braavos. Though it was said to be independent from the Sealord's government, there was undoubtedly some level of cooperation between the two.
This visit might not be solely about purchasing ships. It could also be a probe to gauge the true financial state of House Targaryen.
Rhaella wasn't satisfied with the offer either. But viable buyers were scarce at the moment. She replied:
"Parting with warships is no small matter. I will need to consult with the lords of House Targaryen. Still, we thank you for making the long journey.
Please stay here on Dragonstone for a few days."
"Your Grace is most gracious. We are honored," Nahor said with a deep bow, joined by the other Keyholders.
Once the emissaries were housed and discreetly watched, Viserys and his council convened for an emergency meeting.
"Your Grace, those scoundrels clearly think they have us cornered. We must not sell our ships to them!" said the old crab, now promoted to Master of Coin, shaking his head furiously.
To him, losing money was more painful than death itself.
And the Iron Bank's offer was daylight robbery.
But what concerned Viserys now wasn't the offer itself.
It was what the Iron Bank intended to do after acquiring those ships.
Braavos already had a thriving shipbuilding industry. Their own production capacity hadn't even been fully utilized.
Yet they still wanted to buy ships from him.
They must have sales channels already in place.
If Viserys could discover those channels, he might secure a far better deal.
"Indeed, Your Grace, the price is far too low, and the number of ships too few. I suspect they intend to buy more than thirty in total. This is likely a tactic to drive the price down.
And I don't believe the Iron Bank plans to keep the ships for themselves—they're likely looking to resell them."
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