At the Dragonstone docks, surging waves continuously crashed against the shore, kicking up splashes of water.
"Cheer up, Ser," Greene Kleber quipped, "Your furrowed brow makes people uneasy."
Davos Seaworth forced a faint smile and said, "My apologies, I haven't learned to keep a straight face."
Greene shook his head with a smile.
Davos hesitated, then spoke, "Earl Greene, Duke Stannis, whom I know, always makes wise decisions. I hope you will make your choice soon."
"Ser Davos, we are friends…"
Greene's brown eyes flickered as he continued, "I confess to you, I feel Duke Stannis is more interested in that sacred fire prophecy."
He pointed to the flaming heart banner fluttering on the dock, as the wind from the sea created endless ripples.
"When I saw this on the ship, I already understood Duke Stannis's resolve."
Davos gazed at the red banner for a while, recalling the scene when he was knighted.
That year, Duke Stannis, with only a small number of garrison soldiers, held the city for nearly a year under the heavy siege of the combined forces of House Tyrell and Redwyne Family. Even the sea route was blockaded by House Redwyne from Arbor, and the horses in Storm's End had long been eaten, cats and dogs consumed, leaving the defenders with only tree roots and rat meat to eat.
It was a cloudy, moonless, and windy night. Under the cover of darkness, he risked crossing the Redwyne Fleet and the treacherous reefs of Shipbreaker Bay. His small boat had black sails, black oars, and a black hull, with a cargo hold full of onions and salted fish, though not much… it was enough for the defenders to hold out until Eddard Stark led his troops to relieve the siege of Storm's End.
After the war, Duke Stannis granted him the fertile lands of Cape Wrath, a small castle, and the title of knight… and also saved him the time of trimming his left hand's fingernails.
...
Davos sighed, saying, "I am incompetent; I couldn't persuade the lords of the Stormlands to support Duke Stannis. They prefer Duke Renly, who speaks more sweetly."
Greene turned his head to look at Davos: "They will ultimately choose the final victor, Ser."
A hint of helplessness appeared on Davos's face: "Clearly, not many people are willing to believe Duke Stannis can sit on the Iron Throne right now."
Greene looked at the flaming heart banner again, muttering, "Ser Davos, are you trying to tell me that Duke Stannis has to make some difficult choices?"
Greene turned to Davos and continued, "You must know Storm's End very well, don't you?"
Davos nodded slightly.
Greene began, "Songs say that the first Storm King, Durran, won the love of the beautiful… Elenei, who was the offspring of the sea god and the goddess of wind.
On their wedding night, Elenei gave her virginity to a mortal, and from then on, she had to endure birth, old age, sickness, and death like a mortal.
Her parents were heartbroken by their daughter's decision, and they summoned gales and giant waves, unleashing their wrath upon Durran's castle.
That night, his friends, brothers, and wedding guests were all swept away, either smashed against the castle walls or drowned in the ocean, with only Durran, protected by Elenei, escaping harm."
Davos's eyes trembled; he understood Greene's implicit meaning: whatever the original intention, everything has a price.
Davos collected his thoughts. He admired Stannis and believed that difficulties were only temporary, and that the great Stannis would eventually sit on the Iron Throne. His loyalty to Stannis never wavered.
Davos's voice was friendly, but his gaze was firm: "Earl Greene, it still stands tall."
Greene reached out and patted the Onion Knight's arm: "Ser Davos, I await your good news."
Greene left an ambiguous statement, then, with a flick of his cloak, stepped onto the gangplank connecting to the the mermaid.
...
The the mermaid slowly left the port. Greene stood on the stern deck of the the mermaid, gazing at Dragonstone, carved in the shape of a dragon, thinking… dragon glass mines… Others… Melisandre… dragons.
...
As evening approached, the the mermaid docked at Mermaid Port. Greene, the 'King of Rolls,' immediately began his inspection, accompanied by his butler, Herschel.
As the face of Klaeb Territory to the outside world, Greene's financial investment in Mermaid Port, though far less than his military expenditures, has never ceased.
Mermaid Port is predominantly white, with clean and wide streets, lush trees planted on both sides, and well-arranged buildings, with shops and residences neatly lined up.
Under the strict laws of the Kleber lord, Mermaid Port enjoys good public order and is very clean, which is a rare sight in Westeros.
However… due to Stannis's Royal Fleet's blockade of Blackwater Bay, merchants from King's Landing are almost nowhere to be seen, making Mermaid Port much more desolate than before.
...
In the afterglow of the sunset, the seawater shimmered, reflecting golden light, complementing the white port like a beautiful painting.
Herschel said indignantly, "My lord, if it weren't for a big leather merchant from Lys who happened to arrive, the goods we prepared for the King's Landing merchants would have become food for rats."
He then said excitedly, "Steward Rosel's furs purchased in White Harbor have also been reserved by the Lys merchants. When the Black Pearl returns from the North… no, I'll find a way to contact Rosel directly and have the Black Pearl go straight to Lys."
Under Stannis's command, no ship could pass through Blackwater Bay to the Blackwater River Dock in King's Landing, and King's Landing merchant ships could not leave port; this included merchants from Dragonstone… he treated everyone equally, very fairly.
Greene pulled the reins, turning his horse around: "Thank you, Herschel."
...
...
Essos, Vaes Dothrak.
In the Governor's study, the petite Daenerys Targaryen sat, with Jorah Mormont and others standing before her.
Daenerys's silver hair cascaded like waves over her shoulders, and her small face showed worry: "We don't have enough gold, do we?"
Ser Jorah looked at the silver-haired princess and said, "Princess Daenerys, King Viserys also demanded high prize money, and his demands will only increase. We cannot satisfy him."
After a pause, Daenerys said, "Aren't the city's merchants very welcoming of my brother holding a tourney on his naming day… Do you think they will support us?"
"Unless you order the soldiers to hold swords to their throats…"
With that, Ser Jorah snorted coldly and continued, "That kind of tourney from Westeros is a novelty here and attracts many people. The merchants just want to seize the opportunity to make a fortune, not out of the adoration King Viserys believes."
He hesitated, then added, "I think their real intention is you, Princess."
Although she had warned herself never to easily give in to her brother, when her brother proactively approached her recently, saying he would no longer drink heavily, and even uncharacteristically showed concern for her condition, Daenerys was both happy and touched.
So, she agreed to Viserys's request to host a celebration on her naming day. The result, however, was not the warming of sibling affection Daenerys had imagined, but a never-ending stream of demands from her brother, such as holding a Westeros-like tourney on that day.
Was she disappointed? Or did she feel too naive? Thinking this, Daenerys barely managed to maintain a calm expression on her face.
Daenerys's violet eyes looked out the window, and she softly said, "Am I being treated as a valuable commodity again?"
Although there was no anger on her face, the hand hidden under the table was tightly clenched into a fist.
Ser Jorah looked worriedly at the silver-haired princess and said, "It is said that Dick dissuaded King Viserys, who was starting to waver."
Daenerys seemed somewhat lost in thought, murmuring, "Yes, I'm worth ten thousand men… At least no one in this city can afford that price…"
After a moment of silence, Ser Jorah stepped forward, his eyes fixed on Daenerys, whose face concealed sadness.
"Princess Daenerys, besides his determination to reclaim the Iron Throne from the usurper, Viserys is a king easily swayed by flattery."
He continued, "I want to tell you directly, there are certainly people in this world who cherish you, but that person will definitely not be your brother."
After a pause, Ser Jorah looked again at the still expressionless Daenerys, then continued, "King Viserys is dangerous, he is dangerous to you, you… you trust your brother too much."
Daenerys, by the act of touching her hair, quietly wiped away the tear that had not yet fallen from the corner of her eye.
Ser Jorah looked at Daenerys, who was trying to appear calm, and felt a pang in his heart.
His voice was like the winter wind: "Princess Daenerys, King Viserys needs to sober up. I am willing to do it."
"Ser, I appreciate your loyalty, but I hope you remember that Viserys is my kin, and I will not intentionally harm my brother, never."
Daenerys looked out the window, her voice calm.
After a while longer, Daenerys's gaze moved to Ser Jorah, and her expression softened: "I promise…"
Her gaze swept over the few people present, and she continued, "I will not disappoint you again. This is the last time."
Everyone bowed to Daenerys in acknowledgment.
...
...
Essos, near a small port, the rising sun cast a soft glow across the sky.
In the clear, transparent small lake, Rennel swam like a fish, her red hair scattered in the water, like a flame.
By the lake, Jon Snow couldn't help but secretly glance at the beautiful scene in the water again… Rennel came here every morning, which was truly a… good habit.
Jon walked a few steps, picking up Rennel's clothes, which she had casually left on the grass. The ice boy from the North, at this moment, couldn't hide his joyful mood.
...
By the bonfire, Rennel took the long dress. She didn't rush to put it on, her bright eyes looking directly at Jon, whose gaze was wandering.
"Does it look good?"
Hearing this, Jon immediately turned his head away.
The red-haired girl let out a clear laugh: "Do you like it?"
Jon's voice sounded somewhat helpless: "I'm very sure."
The red-haired girl seemed a little angry; she threw her clothes onto the grass, and Jon passively felt a gentle warmth.
When Jon's breathing became heavy, the red-haired girl suddenly burst into laughter, then pushed him away and picked up her clothes again.
While putting on her dress, Rennel said, "My father is waiting for me to make breakfast. If I'm late, he'll come looking for us with a harpoon."
Jon rubbed his face with both hands and said, "Alright."
After a while, Rennel sat close to Jon, resting her head gently on his strong arm, and said, "Have you decided?"
After a pause, Jon shook his head slightly: "There are people there I don't know if I should see. I haven't made a decision yet."
Rennel looked up at Jon: "You go. Once you're there, maybe you'll find the answer."
"I can take you with me."
"My father won't agree."
Jon reached out and embraced Rennel: "I'll be back soon."
Rennel reached out and touched Jon's cheek: "Shy boy, I'll wait for you to come back, but don't make me wait too long. My father has always wanted to find me a fisherman husband."
Jon smiled gently and said, "I've calculated the time; I'll be back in three months at most."
...
...
Pyke of the Iron Islands is an ancient fortress. It was originally built on a cliff protruding from the sea, but later, as the supporting rocks of the cliff were continuously eroded by seawater, Pyke's towers gradually became isolated on fragile and precarious sea stacks, surrounded year-round by salty seawater.
At the main gate of Pyke, Theon Greyjoy had brown-black hair, a lean build, and dark skin. He first looked at his own hands, then stared blankly at the woman who shared his sister's name, his lips trembling incessantly.
Asha Greyjoy was slender with long legs and short black hair.
She showed a rather wicked smile: "Did it feel good, my dear brother?"
Theon finally came to his senses, somewhat enraged: "You, why didn't you tell me your identity earlier?!"
"Sister had to see what kind of person you'd become in Winterfell first."
She gave Theon a mocking bow, then continued, "Well then, Prince, I beg your leave. I need to change into some presentable clothes so I can formally attend your welcome feast."
Theon watched his sister's retreating back, standing foolishly motionless… He had actually… in front of Asha… And she had… Oh, gods!
Theon felt like a complete and utter fool, and he had willingly been one!
Theon's mute attendant giggled foolishly nearby. This laughter finally brought Theon back to his senses and gave him an outlet to vent his anger.
Theon slapped his attendant, Wex, hard, "What the hell are you laughing at?!"
He slapped him again, angrily saying, "Who told you not to speak earlier! Who told you that you don't have a tongue! In your next life, remember to grow a tongue for me!"
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