The doors of the Obsidian Throne Hall slowly opened, and Reville Hightower, carrying the Valyrian steel sword "Steelflame" on his back and holding the banner of House Varezes, walked in with his chest held high. As a newly appointed noble and a Bloodsworn Brother of Draezel, the young squire was dressed exceptionally formally today. Over his chainmail, he wore a red silk surcoat embroidered with House Hightower's emblem—three whales connected head to tail. Draped over his shoulders was a half-cloak woven from crimson and silver, the symbol of the Bloodsworn Brothers.
Following Reville Hightower was Joffrey Cafferen, dressed in a green surcoat. At his waist hung "Nightstar," the Valyrian steel longsword inlaid with sapphires. His personal sigil was embroidered upon his surcoat: a longsword and shield added between the two facing stags of the original House Cafferen crest. Beside him stood York Waters, whose Valyrian steel longsword, "Tidecaller," hung at his waist. The young mercenary, after becoming a Bloodsworn Brother, had also designed a personal sigil for himself—a complex pattern of a crab, a longsword, and a war horn formed the design upon his black surcoat.
Draezel followed the three Bloodsworn Brothers, entering the hall flanked by Hofa the Lawkeeper and Athor Celtigar. Behind him walked Valarr, wearing the Valyrian steel armor "Silver Shield" and holding Samantha's hand, while Rhae followed dressed in a fitted long robe. Lingor, clad in a purple ceremonial robe, followed his uncle with a serious expression upon his small face, a look that caused Samantha to occasionally glance toward her brother, worried something might be wrong with his mind.
The two ladies of House Varezes, Diana and Lady Leira, followed behind Valarr and Rhae. Both ladies were dressed with great solemnity today. Diana wore a loose gown of half-purple and half-green, with her personal arms—a quartered shield bearing House Tarly's Striding Huntsman and House Varezes' Silver Dragon and Laurel—embroidered upon her cloak. Like her good-sister, Lady Leira's silver gown also bore a quartered shield of a red crab and a silver dragon, though Lady Leira lacked Diana's slightly swollen belly.
Behind the two ladies stood Suchi, who was responsible for guarding the rear.
The group slowly entered to the melodious music played by the musicians in the second-floor gallery. Draezel walked onto the raised platform and stood before a weirwood throne, while Lady Diana stood before another. Led by Valarr and Rhae, the others lined themselves in two rows along either side of the purple carpet, awaiting the arrival of the principal guest.
"Aegon II Targaryen, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, arrives."
Smooth yet majestic music rang out once more.
This time, Aegon and his Kingsguard entered.
Ser Tyr Templeton and Ser Steffon Darklyn cleared the way for the King. Every few paces, a Kingsguard knight remained behind to stand opposite one of Draezel's Bloodsworn Brothers. By the time they reached the Dragonstone Throne, only Ser Steffon Darklyn, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, remained beside Aegon.
The young King swept back his black-and-red cloak, planted Blackfyre upon the ground, and slowly took his seat.
Draezel and Diana bowed slightly toward Aegon before taking their own seats.
Lisandro stared at the warriors lined up in two ranks, and his expression suddenly changed.
What was he seeing?
Not only did every warrior wearing the crimson-and-silver half-cloak carry a Valyrian steel weapon, but even the Kingsguard—those seven White Knights sworn to protect the royal family, a legendary institution known even throughout the Nine Free Cities—possessed three Valyrian steel swords among their ranks.
Since when had Valyrian steel become so common?
Even the immensely wealthy House Rogare possessed only a single Valyrian steel sword, "Truth," and a dragonbone-hilted Valyrian steel scimitar.
"Welcome, Governor Lisandro Rogare of Lys," the young King said in High Valyrian. "As descendants of Old Valyria, we welcome your arrival and hope you enjoy your stay."
Aegon's attention was immediately drawn toward the giant standing behind Lisandro.
The man stood a full seven feet tall, with black hair and dark skin. His scarred face was concealed behind a black silk veil. His eastern lamellar armor and feathered tower-shaped helm further emphasized his immense and imposing frame.
"Thank you for your hospitality, Your Majesty."
Lisandro glanced toward Draezel, whose attention remained fixed upon Aegon, and also noticed Aegon studying his attendant.
He replied in High Valyrian.
"Your Majesty, this is 'Shadow' Shandor Ko. He once won one hundred life-and-death duels within the fighting pits of Meereen and drank the blood of his enemies. He once tore out an opponent's throat with his teeth after his sword shattered. The man who sold him to me claimed he slew lions, bears, wolves, and wyverns in the arena using nothing but stones picked from the sand."
"I've heard of him."
Valarr looked at the giant with burning eyes.
"Giant, I look forward to witnessing your skill."
Shandor Ko silently bowed his head.
"Prince Valarr, Shandor Ko's tongue was removed by his former master. He cannot answer your words. Please forgive the offense."
Lisandro spoke sincerely before steering the conversation back toward the purpose of his visit.
The Governor signaled to Drazeko and his eldest son, Lisandro Rogare the Younger.
The two immediately brought forward the prepared golden chest and placed it before Aegon.
Lisandro carefully opened it.
Knowing that Westerosi customs were relatively conservative and held little appreciation for the fashionable trinkets beloved in Lys, they had prepared something practical.
A chest overflowing with gold.
"Your Majesty, because of the folly of the Triarchy and the depredations of Dalton Greyjoy, our contact with Westeros was unfortunately interrupted. Fortunately, Lord Dalton has recently shifted his attention toward Myr, granting us the opportunity to restore communication with Westeros."
Lisandro lowered his head and spread his arms dramatically as he recounted the hardships suffered by Lys.
Lys needed an alliance with the Iron Throne before Myr secured one first.
At the same time, he carefully calculated his position.
The young King was not the true decision-maker.
Whether he could persuade the Iron Throne to ally with Lys and simultaneously secure a marriage between Lara Rogare and Prince Viserys depended almost entirely upon Draezel's attitude.
Unfortunately, Draezel was not an easy man to persuade.
Indeed, if he wished to achieve his goals, Draezel would almost certainly demand a painful price from Lys.
Thinking this, Lisandro felt less conflicted.
He continued describing the misery of Lys following the raids.
Aegon sighed and shook his head. He even attempted to squeeze out a tear or two, but unfortunately failed and could only continue sighing while watching Lisandro's performance.
Meanwhile, Draezel listened with faint amusement.
Occasionally, he prompted Aegon to ask questions according to the script they had prepared the previous night.
The questions touched upon numerous sensitive matters:
Which noble houses held influence in Lys.
How many fleets Lys possessed.
The layout of its harbors.
Its population.
The size of its army.
And its approximate annual income.
It seemed this Governor of Lys was no fool.
He clearly understood that Lys itself could not protect its interests from such a weak position.
What he needed was to prove his own value—to House Targaryen and House Varezes alike.
The value of House Rogare had to exceed that of Lys itself, a city that could be stripped bare by the Red Kraken at any moment.
After all, Lys had already alienated Volantis through the Disputed Lands wars and damaged relations with Braavos through the slave trade. Now Tyrosh had been reduced to ashes by the Red Kraken, while Myr remained consumed by the collapse of its alliance network.
Lys had effectively become an abandoned piece on the cyvasse board.
[Continued in Part 2 due to length.]
Draezel gently rubbed the armrest of the weirwood throne as he quietly listened to Lisandro's speech.
There was nothing particularly new in it.
Most of it consisted of empty pleasantries.
The Governor of Lys began with the era of the Valyrian Freehold, lavishly praising the glorious deeds of House Varezes and the ancestors of House Targaryen.
To be honest, even Draezel—who knew his family's history extremely well—had never heard of some of the exploits Lisandro was describing.
Lingor, standing beside him, was equally bewildered.
Uncle Rhae never mentioned any of this, did he?
Old Maester Viserys never mentioned it either, right?
After a lengthy speech that wandered from the Valyrian Freehold to Aegon's support during the war against Volantis, while carefully glossing over the conflicts surrounding the Stepstones during the era of the Three Daughters, Lisandro repeatedly emphasized the close economic ties between Lys and Westeros.
Only then did he finally arrive at one of the true objectives of his journey.
"Your Majesty, the people of Lys beg for your mercy. The Red Kraken's fleet has ravaged our towns, turned prosperous shipping lanes into seas of death, and reduced once-famous perfume workshops to ashes. The city weeps. We have paid dearly for having once stood against your Realm."
Lisandro lowered his head.
"Lys is willing to offer half of the city's annual revenues as tribute. We beg your forgiveness and ask that you accept the title of Protector of Lys. Please compel those bloodthirsty monsters to withdraw. Lys can no longer endure their devastation."
Lisandro appeared so distressed that tears nearly filled his eyes.
Aegon II looked somewhat helpless.
However, he firmly maintained his silence and did not directly answer the Governor's plea.
Draezel, meanwhile, continued thinking.
He needed to determine exactly how much Lisandro was willing to pay—and where the man's bottom line lay.
It was already obvious that Lisandro intended to completely sacrifice Lys's interests and bind House Rogare to the war chariots of the two Dragonlord houses.
That required careful consideration.
Half of Lys's annual income was indeed an enormous amount of money.
The question was whether Lisandro could actually guarantee those payments.
Draezel estimated that Lisandro possessed enough influence to shape Lys's politics, but probably not enough to completely dominate the city.
The tribute might arrive reliably during the first few years.
But as the wounds inflicted by the Red Kraken gradually healed...
Draezel was not worried in the slightest that the Red Kraken would refuse to withdraw.
The Ironborn were not land-hungry feudal lords.
Very few Ironborn cared about territory.
What interested them was plunder.
Could they raid?
How much wealth could they seize?
The complete sack of Tyrosh had already kept the Iron Fleet occupied for a long time.
Even then, the remaining Iron Fleet still relied upon speed and experienced crews to suppress the navies of Lys and Myr.
That alone demonstrated how weak the two Free Cities had become.
Draezel realized his thoughts had drifted too far.
Returning to the Red Kraken himself—
The man was clever.
That much was evident from his decision to attack the Three Daughters and from his practice of sending a portion of the spoils to King's Landing.
He was more intelligent than nearly every Greyjoy before him.
The only exceptions were Goren Greyjoy, who had expelled the Faith of the Seven from the Iron Islands, and Vickon Greyjoy, who had cautiously dealt with Aegon the Conqueror and temporarily abandoned the Old Way.
King's Landing and Dragon's Nest City had silently tolerated his raids for two years.
Now it was time for them to stop.
If they refused—
Dragons would be waiting.
Once the Red Kraken withdrew, dissatisfaction with Lisandro would inevitably emerge throughout Lys.
Draezel had no interest in examining how House Rogare intended to solve that problem.
However, he was absolutely certain of one thing.
As bankers, they would certainly transfer the tribute payments through their own financial institutions.
And in that process, House Rogare could manipulate countless things.
As long as they secured an alliance between Lys and Westeros and successfully arranged a marriage into House Targaryen, the situation would naturally develop in their favor.
House Rogare would transform itself into an agent of the two Dragonlord dynasties.
Everyone would profit.
A perfect arrangement.
As for how they intended to accomplish it—
Draezel could already predict what would happen after today's audience.
Rhae was out of the question.
That boy hid in either the library or the Dragonpit so often that even Draezel occasionally struggled to find him.
But there were many others they could approach.
As long as they could influence enough people and convince them that an alliance with Lys benefited House Varezes, they would move steadily toward victory.
Thinking of this, Draezel actually felt a trace of anticipation.
He sighed inwardly.
As expected of the family that once forced House Dagareon to sell one of their own sons.
They remain remarkably shrewd.
House Rogare was an interesting opponent.
Only interesting.
Not proposing a marriage alliance during the audience itself had been an excellent decision.
Had it been rejected publicly, there would have been no room left for maneuvering.
A private proposal, however, would allow them to exert influence behind the scenes and gradually guide events toward the outcome they desired.
Draezel smiled and finally interrupted Lisandro.
"Governor Lisandro, we sympathize with the losses Lys has suffered during these recent raids, but..."
Draezel slowly shook his head.
Below the dais, Lisandro briefly displayed an expression that seemed to say:
Just as I expected.
The expression vanished so quickly that almost no one noticed it.
"The Realm also has its own difficulties. We must discuss these matters with the Small Council. Therefore, I ask for your patience."
Draezel smiled politely.
"Rest assured, during your stay at Summerhall, all expenses incurred by House Rogare shall be covered by us."
Being politely delayed by Draezel did not diminish Lisandro's confidence.
After a lengthy ceremonial conclusion, everyone departed the Obsidian Throne Hall.
Once the hall had emptied, Draezel silently led Tigaro Dagareon into the Hall of Five Fingers.
"Your Highness, your prediction was correct," Tigaro said.
"Governor Lisandro began sending invitations immediately after leaving the audience chamber. He has already approached Sebastian and Prince Valarr."
"Sebastian makes sense."
Draezel completely understood why Lisandro would target Sebastian first.
Sebastian currently managed the wealth of House Varezes.
Anyone attempting to purchase influence could hardly ignore him.
"Valarr?"
Draezel rubbed his forehead.
"How did they approach him? Through that giant?"
Tigaro nodded.
"Lisandro's sons, Lisandro and Fredo, proposed a sparring match between Shandor Ko and Prince Valarr. The Prince had little reason to refuse. Hofa therefore sent Suchi along with him."
Draezel nodded.
"Hofa handled that well."
Then he asked:
"Who else?"
"The two ladies."
Tigaro's expression remained neutral.
"Lady Rogare invited Lady Diana and Lady Leira to the flowing gardens of Summerhall tomorrow at midday to sample Lysene delicacies. Refusing would have been difficult."
Draezel smiled and nodded.
That, too, had been expected.
"And?"
"And me, Your Highness."
Tigaro lowered his voice.
For a brief moment, the gloomy young man revealed something unusual.
Anger.
The emotion vanished almost immediately.
"How do you intend to deal with them?"
This time Draezel genuinely smiled.
It was clever of House Rogare to identify the right people to approach.
Unfortunately for them, one of those people possessed a very personal grudge against their family.
A grudge connected to the destruction of his house.
A grudge that had nearly deprived young Tigaro of far more than his future.
Draezel was very interested in seeing how this would unfold.
"I will make them pay more, Your Highness."
Tigaro smiled as well.
"At the very least, I will make them experience what my father experienced."
Draezel nodded.
"Do as you wish. Just remember to leave them alive."
A faint smile lingered on his lips.
"We still need House Rogare."
"I understand, Your Highness."
Tigaro melted back into the shadows of the Hall of Five Fingers.
Moments later, another figure emerged from the darkness.
The Faceless Man, Kungur Potter.
"Your Highness," the Faceless Man said quietly, "the target of the Faceless Man who entered Westeros has been identified."
Draezel's expression became serious.
"Who?"
The Faceless Man lowered his head.
"Lady Jeyne Arryn."
He paused.
"And her heir, Joffrey Arryn."
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