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"Your Grace, the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms value their honor and pride above all else. Treating their princess in such a manner will likely provoke the House Martell into open conflict with us. With the naval blockade in place, both Myr and Lys have already begun making moves. Is it truly wise to add more enemies at a time like this?"
Standing close to Jacaerys, ever watchful, was his trusted guard, Stone. Seeing Aliandra leave the fortress hall in silence, he finally spoke up, his voice carrying a tone of cautious concern.
Among Jacaerys' personal guards, Stone and Rudy were the most exceptional. Each had their own strengths—Stone, in particular, leaned more toward diplomacy and strategy.
Unlike most of the soldiers stationed on Bloodstone, who reveled in the recent turn of events, Stone grasped the deeper implications.
Jacaerys' coronation on Bloodstone might have seemed like a grand honor, but in truth, it was little more than a veiled exile. Even the once-dominant Velaryon fleet, which had long safeguarded the island, had silently withdrawn.
Jacaerys, however, remained unfazed. He let out a dismissive chuckle and scoffed"The Martells? They are nothing more than timid turtles cowering in their shells. Their armies may be vast, their soldiers many, but without a fleet to command the seas, they are no real threat to the Stepstones."
His confidence was unshaken, his ambition unbridled. "More enemies?" he sneered. "That doesn't trouble me in the slightest. The more we crush them, the faster they will bow before us—eager to call themselves 'friends' and hand over whatever we demand."
His tone was laced with unwavering confidence, but his actions were just as calculated. His treatment of Aliandra had been a deliberate move to humiliate Prince Qoren.
For days now, Jacaerys had been growing increasingly frustrated. The slow accumulation of just two measly points per day had been gnawing at him.
Once accustomed to reaping thousands—sometimes tens of thousands—of points in the chaos of war, how could he now settle for stagnation?
His Trait Panel was not made for peace. It was forged in battle, a tool that flourished in the fires of war, growing stronger only when soaked in blood.
And now, after Prince Qoren had taken part in the attempt on his life on Bloodstone, the man had the audacity to approach him for cooperation, even laying out a list of demands.
It was true that working with the Martells would accelerate the fall of the Kingdom of Three Daughters. But to endure such an insult? To swallow his pride and suppress his anger just for convenience? That would go against everything he stood for.
From the moment he decided to carve out his own destiny in this world, he had sworn to live freely, to never bow to anyone, and to never suffer humiliation in silence.
He had dared to challenge the might of Vhagar itself. Why, then, should he fear House Martell? If anything, he was running short on enemies. He needed more foes to conquer, more battles to wage, and more points to claim.
But there were more pressing matters at hand.
Jacaerys suddenly recalled the conversation he had yet to finish with Stone regarding the island's provisions. He turned to his trusted guard and asked, "Earlier, you mentioned that our supplies would only last ten more days?"
"Yes, Your Grace. Originally, we had enough provisions to last over two months, but today's coronation feast consumed an excessive amount of our reserves."
Jacaerys nodded, processing the information quickly. "I recall that we've been collecting quite a bit in cleaning fees recently, haven't we?"
Stone hesitated briefly before responding, "Indeed, Your Grace. We have gathered a substantial sum in gold and silver coins from both continents, along with a significant amount of gemstones and jewelry. Altogether, the value amounts to roughly fifteen hundred gold dragons."
Fifteen hundred gold dragons—enough to outfit a company of one hundred and fifty elite soldiers with top-quality weapons and armor.
In this age, such a sum was a fortune that would make even minor lords of the Seven Kingdoms green with envy.
Jacaerys' lips curled into a faint smile as an idea took shape in his mind. "Take that money and seek out one of the larger grain-producing towns in Myr or Lys. Offer to purchase food supplies at twice the market price."
Stone was visibly surprised. "Buy food with gold? Your Grace, while this would certainly serve as a temporary solution to our supply issues, it does not address the root of the problem. If we do not secure a stable supply line, we will face the same predicament again in the near future. Besides, would Myr and Lys even be willing to sell us provisions?"
Stone's concern was reasonable. His vision extended beyond the immediate crisis; he understood that the true challenge lay in establishing long-term sustainability.
Jacaerys, however, remained composed, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "Ah, but you see, the rulers of the Kingdom of Three Daughters are not like the lords of Westeros. Their governers come from the wealthiest merchant families, and most of the local leaders are powerful traders themselves. And what is the greatest characteristic of a merchant?"
He let the question hang for a moment before answering it himself. "Greed. As long as the profit is sufficient, a merchant will sell anything to anyone—even their enemies. And as for the root of our supply problems? It is quite simple: we are not yet strong enough. Once we have more power, such concerns will fade. For now, do as I say. That is an order."
Stone immediately straightened and placed a fist over his heart in salute. "As you command, Your Grace."
Jacaerys' guards were given the freedom to voice their thoughts and provide counsel. But once an order was issued, no matter how absurd or unreasonable it seemed, they had only one duty—to obey.
This unwavering discipline was the result of seven years of careful cultivation. And now, that discipline was beginning to bear fruit.
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Oak Town was situated on an island in the northwest of Lys' territory, a large agricultural town dedicated to farming wheat and other grain crops.
Compared to Tyrosh, Lys relied even more heavily on slavery, with a ratio of three slaves to every free Lysene citizen.
Of course, this was merely an average estimate. In agricultural hubs like Oak Town, the number of slaves far exceeded that of the Lysene overseers.
At this very moment, in the vast wheat fields surrounding Oak Town, a group of pale-skinned, golden-haired Lysene overseers lashed their whips through the air, barking harsh orders at the hundreds of dark-skinned, malnourished slaves laboring under the blistering sun.
"You lazy beasts, move faster!" one of the overseers shouted, his voice sharp and cruel. "Every single stalk of wheat must be harvested before the sun reaches its peak! Fail to meet the quota, and each of you will receive twenty lashes!"
The slaves trembled at his words. The whips in the overseers' hands were crafted with nine knotted cords, each tipped with barbed vines.
A single lash was enough to leave nine deep, claw-like wounds across the victim's back, resembling the savage marks of a wild beast's fangs.
If every slave were truly punished with twenty lashes, many among them would surely perish before the day's end.
Driven by the terror of death, the slaves pushed their exhausted bodies past their limits, increasing their pace as they harvested the golden wheat.
One of the overseers sneered, watching the desperate laborers. "Hah! These animals are pathetic. Treat them too kindly, and they start getting lazy. Only the lash keeps them obedient."
"You're right," another overseer chimed in. "But have you noticed how busy we've been these past few days? Even the unripe wheat is being harvested."
"Haven't you heard? A buyer came recently, offering twice the usual market price for grain. The governer saw an opportunity to make a fortune and took it."
"Selling unripe wheat as well? Won't that affect the supply for Lys later on?"
"And that's why you'll never be more than an overseer," the man scoffed. "The governor will simply buy more grain from other islands at a slightly higher price. That way, he still makes a profit."
"Hah! You talk like a merchant, but in the end, you're just an overseer like the rest of us."
As the overseers continued their idle banter, the wheat in their assigned area was quickly harvested, bundled, and packed for transport.
By midday, a fleet of warships approached Oak Town's port, their sails bearing the sigil of a black three-headed dragon. Hundreds of well-armed slave soldiers stood on guard, watching the foreign vessels with wary eyes.
At the docks, twelve brawny slaves carried an ornate bed draped in luxurious white wool.
Reclining upon it was a morbidly obese middle-aged man, clad in the fine silks of a wealthy Lysene merchant.
His plump face gleamed with satisfaction as he gazed at the chests of gold and silver coins, gemstones, and jewelry laid before him. After his attendants verified the authenticity of the payment, the merchant waved a fleshy hand.
At his signal, groups of slaves began loading sacks of barley, wheat, oats, and rye onto the warships.
Oak Town, true to its reputation as an agricultural hub, provided such an abundance of grain that the process took the entire afternoon to complete.
Once the final shipment was secured, Stone approached the portly merchant and gave him a nod of acknowledgment. "It seems the cargo exceeded the agreed-upon amount. I appreciate your generosity, Governor Magomar. I hope we can do business again in the future."
The obese merchant let out a hearty laugh. "Lord Stone, you flatter me! Of course, I had to include a little extra—it's only fair, given the splendid price you offered! To be honest, I was a bit worried before the deal. That 'King of the Narrow Sea' doesn't exactly have the best reputation… er, I mean, his reputation isn't exactly spotless. But now, I see my concerns were misplaced!"
"Naturally," Stone replied smoothly. "Those rumors are nothing but the slander of our enemies. Before I left, His Majesty specifically instructed me to ensure this was a fair and honest trade."
"Fair trade? King Jacaerys couldn't have said it better!" The merchant chuckled, shaking his head. "Those bastards on Lys always try to force my prices down. It's refreshing to work with someone who respects business! Ah, but I digress. May your journey be swift and smooth. I look forward to our next transaction."
"Likewise. Farewell!"
Four days later, Stone and his fleet returned safely to Bloodstone.
Inside the underground fortress, after hearing Ston's' report on the procurement mission, Jacaerys nodded approvingly.
"Well done, Stone!" Rising from his throne, he rubbed his hands together before giving his next command. "Tell the men to prepare for departure. We're setting sail to attack Oak Town!"
Stone's eyes widened in shock. "Your Majesty, didn't you say we made a fair trade with Oak Town?"
Jacaerys smirked. "Of course we did! We were the buyers then, and we conducted an honest trade. But now… we are their enemies."
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[Chapter End's]
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