Chapter 81: Trap for Reputation
Across the city, Glaro Sythan sat in the room with warmth , heavy with wine, smoke, and the smell of expensive food .That was how Glaro liked it.
One of his associates, a broad-shouldered man with a sharp tongue, leaned forward as if he were about to reveal a grand secret.
"The Valens are already weakened," he said. "We need only make the city feel it. Their shops, their markets, their routes — all of it can be turned into a problem. "
Another man gave a slow nod. "They have already been pushed hard. But that is not enough anymore. We need something larger. Something final."
Glaro swirled the wine in his cup and listened without interrupting.
The first man continued, warming to the subject as though he were discussing trade instead of ruin. "We need to ruin what started it all . What started the fall of Valens — Lady Seraphine Valen along with all the sources of power and reputation of the Valens. We need to recruit all the Men in rough clothes and Drunks and Thieves. The sort along with our own men.They can be sent to stir trouble, provoke merchants, disrupt business. Enough noise, enough fear, and the Valens begin to look incapable of controlling their own streets. That would be a good stroke for ruining the foundations. But the main and last stroke should be Ruining Lady Seraphine. " He said in a creepy tone.
Glaro's mouth curled. "Good plan. But Is the last part really necessary" not out of good heart but possessiveness. What passed through his voice then was something uglier than mercy and more personal than politics. Possessiveness. The sort of twisted pride that came from being rejected and never truly letting the wound close.
The man warmed to the subject. " There are needs to remind a house that it is not safe. For that we need to attack thier biggest weakness."
One of the others smiled thinly. "That would be enough to make them look small."
"Small?" the first man said. "It would make them look finished."
That drew a few low chuckles around the table.
Glaro said nothing for a moment. He took a slow drink, then set the cup down. His eyes remained on the table as the men
Then one of them, more reckless than wise, leaned in and lowered his voice into something meaner.
he said. "Kidnap her, shame her, ruin her. Whatever breaks her best. If the city sees that even she can be touched, then the rest of the house will understand how little protection they really have."
The room went quieter after that.
Glaro's mouth curled.
"Good plan," he said, thought of finally having a taste of her pleased him.
The man straightened a little at the approval.
. "If she is left untouched, she may still become a symbol of resistance. That is the problem. She is tied too closely to the scandal. The city watches her. The Valens watch her. If she returns to safety, some may think the danger has passed."
"I want them embarrassed. I want them to feel chased even in their own halls." Glaro said
The older man among them, the one who had been cautious throughout, said carefully, "That will not be simple if Lord Valen tightens security. They already have , especially Those of Northern Brutes protecting them."
Glaro's fingers tapped once against the side of the cup. " Do what you can , whatever you want Pressure the merchants. Frighten the traders. If Valen wants to protect themselves, let them spend thier coin doing it. Let him. Let him waste himself trying to save what is already slipping."
That earned nods around the table.
Another man, eager to prove his usefulness, added, "We already outbid them for other mercenaries too. We can Bring in more rougher men. "
"Good," Glaro said.
The approval pleased them. It always did.
But one of the men, a little bolder than the rest, spoke again. "If Lady Seraphine believes her return has bought her peace, we should remind her that Braavos does not forgive so easily."
At that, Glaro's expression changed.
It was small at first. A tightening in the jaw. A hardening in the eyes.
"Yes,She should be reminded. The city does not forgive. It turns one's choices into a public wound and leaves it to fester."
Glaro continued, his voice gaining strength with each sentence. "Let her return mean more trouble. Let her name be spoken in the wrong rooms. Let rumors do what they do. She has already given the city a story. We will give it a better one."
The first man smiled eagerly. "That would help the final collapse."
"Yes," Glaro said. "It would."
"She should become a symbol of that weakness," he said. "If she can be humiliated, then the house can be humiliated, then the city will know the Valens cannot protect even their own blood."
One of them finally asked, "And if Valen strikes back?"
He took his cup again and drank.
The wine had gone warm, but his temper had not cooled. If anything, it had sharpened with the planning. Seraphine's rejection still lived under his skin like a splinter. He had dressed it in politics because that was the only way a man like him could tolerate being humiliated. But it remained there all the same, pressing on every thought he had of her. "We will also strike back. Sealord will not do a thing in this matter "
If she could not be his, then she could at least be a problem for her house.
That was the compromise pride often made with revenge And Glaro, flushed with drink and satisfaction, let them believe they had shaped it.
Across the city, the Valens would be trying to hold themselves together. Across the city, Seraphine would be learning again that return did not mean safety. Across the city, men would begin to choose their sides before they understood what game they were standing in.
Glaro raised his cup once more.
"To the Sythans," he said.
The others echoed him quickly.
He smiled as they drank with him.
To them, this was ambition.
To him, it was correction.
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