Pre-Chapter A/N: Here we go with another chapter, coming in right on time. Next three chapters on my patreon(https://www.patreon.com/c/Oghenevwogaga)— same username as here and link in bio.
It was night time before I managed to schedule a meeting with Parvella. Part of me hungered to see my city from the ground to feel how it changed in the moons I'd been gone, but the children snoring in their cots at one side of the office I occupied made me think better of it. It was better for me to be here. Here where they had put that bed, ready to hold them if they woke from their slumbers. Mother and Laena were taking the break they were due. They were flying together—Vhagar and Meleys. Meleys, who I hadn't spotted on my circuits of the island because the dragon had been swimming, of all things. How strange.
A knock on the door rang out, and I cast an anxious glance in the direction of the children. Laena said they were no longer as fussy as they had been as infants—and needing to be told that had hurt in its own way—but I still needed to avoid the risk of waking even one of them. The others followed immediately after no matter what, it seemed.
"Come in," I whispered as I eased the door open for Parvella.
"I can come another time, my lord," she said in a whisper as well. I shook my head.
"No, no. This should be short. I need you to do a few things for me."
"I am yours to command, my lord," she said. I accepted the bow she gave.
"I need a bunch of food ready to go in a few days. Think Operation Dragon Dispatch," I said. She nodded, eyes wide.
"And I will need ten ships from the fleet to escort a shipment of food to the Dornish Army at this point," I said, handing her a map that had the area I'd chosen marked out. She nodded to that as well.
"Your uncle's fleet remains in the city because of your absence. I am sure he will enjoy having something to do," she said, and I cracked a smile at that.
"Indeed. Give the orders, then. Don't ask him to personally see to it, as I'm sure he'll see it as an insult of some kind," I said to her, knowing full well that not asking Vaemond to go on the journey was one of the best ways to ensure he did go on it. And he was a more than competent Naval Commander.
Nothing compared to what my father had been, but he was probably the best that the Velaryon fleet had had since his passing. I wasn't much of a commander of any sort, much less a naval one, so I didn't compete for that role. If I did, I'd win, of course. And no, I wasn't just saying that because of my ego.
"Yes, my lord," she said.
"How have—" I began, only for the sound of fussing to draw my attention away. Romulus was stirring. I was heading to him before I'd even made the conscious choice. I took him out of his cot and into my arms, holding him against my chest, and turned to her. She gestured a desire to leave and I granted it with a nod. No point keeping her here when I would see her at the meeting tomorrow.
Two days. That was the best I could do. I had to make sure I returned before the food began running so low that people started to get ideas. Of course, Icarus had too much common sense to broadcast the state of their stores to the men, but people weren't stupid either. They knew they were waiting for supplies. They'd figure out that the supplies wouldn't be coming if they hadn't already. And then the question would be just how much they had left. And an army with the prospect of being stuck in the middle of the desert with no food would turn into a rioting crowd in seconds. There was a non-zero chance they'd lynch—
Diana began to stir as well, and I took that as a sign that my focus had strayed too much. The kids could probably sense things like that.
----
The meeting room was exactly as I had left it. Everyone sat around the table, waiting for me as I walked in. There were no changes I could see; it felt like the nine or so moons I'd spent first at Driftmark, then King's Landing, and then in Dorne had not happened at all.
I nodded as everyone rose on my entry, and directed them to sit. I took my place at the head of the table. Laena had said she had no interest in attention. She said she'd attended enough of these meetings for a lifetime, and with me here, she didn't have to, so she was more than happy to have the free time to go flying with Vhagar. Part of me envied her. Part of me had missed this, though.
"I think it best that we begin with progress updates on everything since I left," I said.
"Pardon, my lord, but do you mean since you left or since the last update was sent?" Jasper asked. His stutter seemed to be mostly gone. I'd been right that he just needed to get comfortable with those in the council, then.
"Since I left. Let's just keep things simple," I said, and then I pointed for Bonnifer to begin.
"My lord, the second legion finished their training and have now taken their positions within the outposts on Samos and Paros. They continue to undertake training drills there and are ready for rapid responses should we be attacked from Tyrosh and Myr, or from Lys. The first legion remains on Bloodstone, and work on constructing the Legion Headquarters here is yet to begin. The third legion is in training now," he said. I nodded, accepting the updates. When the third legion was ready, they would also be moved to Samos and Paros. The Triarchy were our closest threat so far, so it made sense to have our army stationed on the islands that were closest to their own islands to give us the best chance of a rapid response if they tried something.
"That is acceptable. What is the progress on the headquarters, Zalindros?" I asked, turning to the Master Architect I'd poached from Braavos.
"My designs are rejected by your banker, one and all," he groused. I turned to Parvella with a quirked brow.
"The projected costs are prohibitive, my lord," she said. I made a come-hither gesture, and she handed over the scroll that contained the designs. My already raised brow climbed higher and higher as I read. A domed glass ceiling? Marble floors? Obsidian candleholders? I tried not to let out my almost instinctive chuckle at looking at it. It was a shame that professionalism was not a thing in this world. Zalindros was an architect, but he was also an artist. He only ever approached buildings as works of art. Asking him to design a building for soldiers to sleep in was probably a mistake.
"I understand now. Clearly this is a matter beneath your attention, Master Architect. Parvella, see to it that it is assigned to an architect of lesser skill," I said, and with that obvious bit of manipulation, the architect was sated, and we got to move on.
"Is there anything else, Zalindros?" I asked.
"I have, of course, created several new designs in your absence. I look forward to the chance to go over them with you," he said. I nodded, while internally cringing. It almost wasn't worth it—having stolen him from Braavos. Parvella had joked once that they let us have him because of how much of a pain he was. I hoped not.
"On my return from Dorne, Master Architect. I assure you." He did not look happy, but he nodded. That was enough for me.
"Anything, Thoren?" I asked.
"Stockpiles of glass grow, but the trade route to Yi-Ti has opened a market that buys everything we make. I am told the most recent trip was especially profitable," he said, and Vaemond preened at that.
"And the greenhouses?" I asked.
"The new one for House Stark is finished constructing. House Forrester has received all their requested glass as well. At this time, there are no remaining existing obligations to the Northern Houses," he said. Good, good.
And since he'd already been mentioned, best to get to him now before he found some slight in me taking so long.
"And Uncle? How was the trip?" I asked.
"Profitable. The Golden Emperor was more than willing to purchase all our product straight from our ships without us even disembarking with them. We were able to restock with spices and silks. I was unable to find any information on anything like worms that made the silk," he said, brow furrowed at that last sentence. Of course he hadn't. I'd sent a sailor to do a spy's job. Although, at this point, I was still less than certain that I even wanted to steal the silkworms. Okay, that wasn't true. I wanted to steal them. But I wondered if it would be worth it. Our ships were the only ones capable of making the journey to Yi-Ti in numbers and at the scale where we could dominate the market for their products. It also wasn't like we were paying for the silk. Glass was cheap for us to make, and the Yi-Tish bought at a premium compared to the prices we could get in Essos or Westeros.
Add to that the fact that if word got to this Golden Emperor that we had stolen from him, we'd lose access to the spices as well. And the spices were not as profitable as the silks for now, but they were still worth their weight in gold.
"That is fine, Uncle. And the Navy?" I asked.
"Recruitment slows, but work on training the ones we do get is proceeding well. New sailors are proving to be worth the hassle in training them," he said. He'd doubted me, so I heard and accepted the unspoken apology in that admission.
Speaking of sailors, I turned my attention to Rhaenos.
"How goes the shipbuilding?" I asked.
"The shipyards are operating at maximum capacity. Your order for them to not stop running has so far led to our turnaround times reducing further and further. A ship can go into one part of the yard as nothing but timber and come out complete and ready to sail in a single moon," he said. I nodded. That must have seemed impressive to him, but my goal was to rival the Arsenal of Braavos. Every ship we put to sea was immediately found some use for, and it was getting to the point that even with how many ships we were making, we were still behind demand. A fleet like ours would need constant expanding, and ideally I'd see the older models retired in favour of the newer, more robust, durable, and reliable ships in the next decade.
That would take our naval advantage to the real next level. And maybe then I would stop needing to have the shipyards watched like a hawk, and the people who worked on them not just sworn to secrecy but spied on relentlessly to ensure they kept those oaths. Even with that, we still had to compartmentalise a lot of things so only Rhaenos and maybe a few others had the whole picture of what it took to build a Velaryon ship.
"And the city breaker?" I asked.
"Production on one has begun, but it will take even more time than our regular galleons," he said. I nodded. That was fair enough.
And finally, I turned to Parvella.
"Things at the bank proceed at pace. Loan repayment rates have ticked up since your departure, and further again since I last wrote. Loan requests have also ticked up. Same as with first-outing requests from merchants outside of the Stepstones. We have also received some requests from merchants and even nobility in Westeros." At that, I sat just a bit straighter, something which Parvella noticed because she was quick to rain on my parade.
"Both the noble houses were minor ones from the Crownlands—Truetower and Newhaven—and they were seeking gold to repay a loan they'd already taken from the Iron Bank. For some reason, they were surprised to be denied," she said, and I gave the chuckle she expected even while part of me was already running calculations. Westerosi Lords were many things. Good with money was rarely one of them. It just so happened that most major houses had centuries' worth of gold accumulation, as well as steady incomes to rely on, so things rarely got truly dicey for them no matter how spendthrift they got (up to a point). But the minor houses tended to be just as loose with coin with neither the centuries of accumulation nor the massive incomes to bail them out.
I could step in there. Get dozens of houses in my debt and have them on my side when things came to a head. No, no. That was stupid. Minor Lords too foolish not to get their houses in stupid levels of debt were exactly the worst kind of allies to actively cultivate. If they ever did come to my side because of what they could gain, then that would be one thing, but going out of my way to draw them in would be silly. And besides, I wouldn't need them for maybe a decade or two. Those plans were still a world away.
"As for the finances of the Stepstones themselves, the trips to Yi-Ti have somehow managed to lift things to the point where we are comfortably profitable. This is despite shipbuilding, the legions, and the various projects across the Kingdom doing their best to set our gold on fire." At this, she tossed faux-glares at the men in question, and they all smiled back. No one smiled as wide as Vaemond, though, who probably looked like the cat that caught the cream.
"Our vaults, other than in the aftermath of the sales of the Valyrian steel weapons, have never been so full," she said. Brilliant. Just brilliant. Because I was going to be spending some of that gold very soon.
"That is good. Parvella, I want you to work with Jasper. Dorne will come into the fold before the end of next year, even if not in name yet. Expect the war to be devastating. When I return, I want draft plans for Dornish recovery. If they are to come under my rule, then I aim to show them just what they stand to gain from it," I said.
She nodded, even as I got some confused looks. Vaemond said nothing, but I had a feeling he would have a lot of questions after this meeting. This was, after all, the first time I was admitting some of the scale of my ambition to this council.
"Now, we can move on to the business of the day," I said, and then the reporting began. After everyone had said what they'd come to the meeting to say, which was mostly just some version of what they had already told me earlier, Parvella got to the important matter for deliberation.
"Braavos is proving even more aggressive than anticipated. They seem to have received news of your presence in Dorne, because they test us more and more. Pirates sail into the Stepstones—or at least try to—far more often than usual. The Navy keeps a tight patrol schedule and the watchtowers are always manned, so we usually deal with them, but it is inevitable that some would slip past our defences," she said.
"And what are the pirates coming to do?" I asked.
Parvella turned to Vaemond here, and he was the one who answered.
"Probing forays. They are testing our capacity to respond to incursions. They might not plan to attack us personally, but if Braavos, through their pirates, is able to find some way of reliably beating our patrols and advance warning systems, they might sell that information to someone willing to use it," he said. Or even give it to them for free. Left unsaid was just who that someone was.
"And how are things on that end?" I asked, turning attention to our other neighbours.
"We have ceased making formal entreaties, but even now our merchants are turned away the second their identity is learned. We have been able to slip some of our people in with Lyseni merchants, and what we find is a city in preparation for something. The streets are abuzz, every blacksmith chimney is black and belching, the shipyards are working day and night, and elections are due soon, with whispers that a second Tiger might be elected before the next year is up," she said. I tried not to sigh at that. Hoping for logical behaviour from Essosi was even more foolish than hoping for it from Westerosi. And even worse, this had potential to go very bad very fast.
I had to wrap Dorne up soon, and after Dorne, I would go to war again.
"Volantis, Braavos, Lys, Myr, and Tyrosh. Do we have any friends?" I asked with a sigh.
"The Pentoshi do let us trade with them most enthusiastically," Parvella said. I scoffed.
"The Pentoshi hate us just as much as the others, I assure you. They just happen to be more money-hungry than even the Tyroshi," I said.
"And let's not forget those fools in Slaver's Bay. They might be far enough away that they're unlikely to try anything directly, but with how many of their ships we seize, I wouldn't be surprised if they found a way to involve themselves in any plot against us," I added, adding one more group to the list of our enemies.
"Perhaps you should put your talents to making friends instead of enemies, Nephew," Vaemond said. I grunted.
"I'll do you one better," I said.
"Somehow I think you've gotten the wrong—"
"How do you think we would do as rulers of Tyrosh?" I asked.
A/N: I mean, it was inevitable, was it not? Next chapter comes on here by Wednesday night. Next three chapters up on patreon(https://www.patreon.com/c/Oghenevwogaga) (same username as here and link in bio), you can support me there and read them early.