Kal pondered for a moment, organizing his thoughts—then spoke steadily: "The most direct way to resolve the Crown's debts right now still lies in the war we just won."
"As for how to deal with House Lannister, that question alone can effectively resolve the royal financial deficit."
"After all, the wealth of the Lannisters is known to all!"
Here was a perfect plug for the leak—why not use it?
Kal was not wrong. They were, after all, the victors of the war.
And as the defeated side, the Lannisters' entire fortune would naturally become spoils and property of the Iron Throne.
This was also one of the reasons why Tywin Lannister had the confidence and assurance to negotiate peace with Robert.
He had decisively chosen to abandon the wealth his house had built for over a thousand years, in exchange for the continued survival of House Lannister—and for the families of the Westerlands to escape retribution.
Robert Baratheon, burning with fury and eager for Tywin Lannister's head, had in the end been persuaded by an empty treasury.
After all, his Hand, Eddard, had strongly supported the proposal.
Thus Robert had suddenly felt that letting the old dog live out his remaining days in humiliation might not be such a bad outcome—perhaps even more satisfying in its own way.
As for Eddard Stark, as long as the war did not continue and they had already become the victors, there was nothing wrong with such terms.
No more deaths, a peaceful transition, and sufficient gain for all—
—it served everyone's interests.
And so, even Robert Baratheon himself, the "victim," had been convinced; the war that had begun as a conflict between the court and its frontier lords thus ended in a rather anticlimactic fashion.
Hearing Kal's proposed solution, the three present were briefly taken aback, then soon understood his meaning.
Indeed—for the entire House Lannister, a debt of 3 million gold dragons was utterly insignificant.
But the issue was not so simple.
"I admit, it is indeed the best approach, Ser Kal," Eddard said plainly, "but it is not one that can resolve our problem at this moment. A distant river cannot extinguish a fire burning at your feet."
"And many things are not as simple as we imagine."
At the council table, Eddard directly pointed out the flaw, subtly hinting at Kal as well.
He did not want Kal to fix his hopes on such a solution.
For, in essence, it was not a reasonable method—and it would set a dangerous precedent.
After all, if every time the royal treasury faced a crisis they turned to war as the answer, then such madness would inevitably lead to destruction.
Kal of course understood the concern and the guidance behind Eddard Stark's words.
"Of course, Lord Hand. I only meant that this debt of 3 million is not truly a problem, since in essence we can handle it."
"Besides, the Iron Bank won't be collecting just yet, will it?"
Kal spoke, spreading his hands with a small jest.
Indeed, after winning the war, those creditors likely had more confidence in Robert than Robert himself.
Kal then continued.
"So, once we understand that we have nothing to fear behind us, we must start thinking about how to transform the economy."
"Of course, before that, if possible, I think it would be best for you and His Majesty to have a proper 'talk.' Before we do anything else, we must first plug the hole right in front of us."
"Otherwise, if that hole remains, this ship of ours will sooner or later sink to the bottom."
Robert's terrible habit of spending money truly had to be dealt with—otherwise, no matter how hard Kal worked, he could never outpace Robert's spending.
"I will speak with the King about this matter."
It was indeed an urgent problem.
Eddard Stark nodded, giving his word—a sign that he was determined to see the matter through.
"So, what then?" the Hand continued. "At present, the royal treasury is still empty, yet there are many areas that require funds."
"We must resolve this issue first, or else everything that follows will remain painfully difficult."
"Moreover, the army's expenditures are still increasing."
Eddard frowned and spoke in a deep voice, both hands resting atop the heavy tome before him, his sharp gaze sweeping over the three men present—
—as if hoping to draw out a suitable answer from them that way.
"My thought is to suppress expenditures temporarily, at least until our treasury can breathe again."
Ser Barristan Selmy considered a moment before offering this as a last-resort solution.
Everyone present understood what he meant—it was just a polite way of saying they'd have to tighten their belts for a while.
So—no tourney then?
That was indeed a bottomless pit for gold.
Yet just as Eddard Stark was weighing the feasibility of that suggestion, before he could even speak,
Kal directly rejected Ser Barristan Selmy's proposal from the side.
His response was full of righteousness.
"The tourney must be held—and it will be held!"
"My lords, perhaps you have not realized that this is actually an opportunity to strengthen the kingdom's unity and sense of identity—especially now, when we have just won a war."
"We are the victors—and we must display the bearing that befits us. This concerns both the honor of the King and of the Iron Throne."
"When a kingdom loses the dignity and strength it ought to possess—I believe you all understand what that means!"
Kal's voice rang out firm and powerful, completely cutting off any thought of canceling the tourney.
Eddard Stark, who had just been considering that this might be a reasonable measure, froze slightly at Kal's words, then quickly came to his senses.
His expression unconsciously grew solemn.
Clearly, with Kal's reminder, he had realized that the gravity of this issue was not merely economic on the surface.
"Kal, you're right. This must be treated with caution. We cannot approach it as a simple matter."
The Hand of the King stated his stance, silently dismissing his earlier inclination to agree with that suggestion—
—and instead chose firmly to stand on the King's side.
As one who had experienced many wars, who had personally overthrown a dynasty and helped build a new one from the ground up, no one could understand this matter more deeply than he.
It brought to his mind the corpses wrapped in red cloaks beneath the Iron Throne, and the lands and rivers stained by countless blood.
Yet as Kal's words fell, Varys and Ser Barristan Selmy, too, were startled awake after a brief daze.
Then, at the same time, a certain light appeared unconsciously in both their gazes toward Kal.
"But money must be spent, and matters must be handled—yet without money, nothing can be done. What are we to do then?"
Though Varys looked at Kal with a newfound and peculiar gleam in his eyes, none of the three seemed to notice it.
He had simply laid the practical problem on the table.
But faced with the three pairs of confused, uncertain eyes, Kal unexpectedly smiled.
His eyes flashed with brilliance, his presence commanding.
"I actually have a question for you, my lords—what kind of illusion makes you instinctively believe that holding a tourney must necessarily mean spending money?"
"If we think in economic terms, could we not find a way to turn it into a profitable enterprise instead?"
That statement, following one that had already shocked them moments ago, once again left them stunned.
Kal Stone had somehow produced yet another unexpected—and compelling—idea.
"For thousands of years, it has always been so, Kal. This is not a business of give and take," Eddard Stark said earnestly.
"But has it always being so for thousands of years made it right?!"
Kal asked in return, with a gentle smile on his face.
"My lords, even dragons have vanished from history—nothing is unchangeable. I think we should consider changing some of our ways of thinking!"
Kal countered Eddard's reminder.
His tone was equally earnest, his expression calm and composed, neither humble nor arrogant.
A man born and raised in the North, seemingly frozen into ice like that land itself, instinctively reacted to certain matters with a degree of stubbornness.
Kal was not surprised.
Unlike that man of Northern ice, however, the bald, plump eunuch's expression flickered slightly the moment Kal mentioned "profitable enterprise."
"Perhaps we could hear what Ser Kal has in mind, Lord Eddard."
Varys stepped forward, smiling pleasantly, his voice sweet to the point of cloying as he tried to play the mediator.
And Eddard, who had been momentarily taken aback by Kal's upward-looking words, straightened his expression again upon hearing Varys's suggestion.
Yet it was clear that Eddard's view on the matter differed from the others'.
Looking at the bald Master of Whisperers seated diagonally across from him, he did not hesitate to retort.
"Tournaments have always been costly affairs—wherever they are held."
"Varys, mind your words. This is not business. This is a place where knights earn honor—just like the battlefield!"
Eddard's attitude was firm, carrying a kind of conviction that brooked no argument—or, perhaps more accurately, stubbornness.
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