iron throne of ice and fire

Chapter 533 King and King 9
"They are deeply hostile to those south of the Wall." Tyrion put his hands behind his back and continued, "The wildlings outside the Wall are divided into hundreds of different tribes, each with its own unique customs, and the most common language among them is still the ancient language of the ancestors. If we want to rule them, the situation we are about to face is completely different from governing the Seven Kingdoms. We can even say... we know almost nothing about their 'world'."

Tyrion took a step forward, his eyes fixed on Stannis. "Swords may kill, but you know, my lord, that the sword alone cannot bring about a long and secure rule."

Stannis fell silent, his brows knitted together. After a long pause, he said, "Go on."

Tyrion nodded as if greatly encouraged, his voice slightly raised: "Of course, the threat of force must continue, but my suggestion is to send envoys to negotiate with the leaders of each wildling tribe outside the Wall."

At this point, the corners of his mouth slightly raised, revealing a meaningful smile: "From what I know, although those wild men seem barbaric and rude, they attach great importance to keeping their promises. If you can make them acknowledge you as their king before they pass through the Great Wall, then after they settle in the land you give them, they will surely behave themselves."

After saying this, Tyrion licked his lips subconsciously, thinking to himself, in fact...if the negotiations are really successful, even greater troubles are still to come.

However, this thought only flashed through his mind, and he chose to keep silent, because he knew in his heart that there was only one way to solve this potential problem - that was to plunder the North.

The red priestess glanced at Stannis and said to Tyrion: "It seems that you are the most suitable negotiator, wise little lion."

Tyrion knelt before Stannis and said, "I am at your service, sire."

Stannis's deep blue eyes moved slightly. He stared at Tyrion for a while, then said slowly, "I will send knights to protect your safety."

Melisandre leaned closer. "Perhaps they could bring wildfire and dragonglass weapons, Lord Stannis."

Stannis turned his head and his eyes fell on Melisandre's face. She pursed her lips and smiled: "I received news that Crabbe's merchant ship brought enough dragonglass weapons to Eastwatch to arm a thousand men."

As she spoke, she raised her hand and gently placed it on Stannis' shoulder: "You are destined to save this world. The Lord of Light has been guiding the Regent Green to continue to assist you in your great cause, Your Majesty."

Stannis's jaw moved silently for a few times, and he said coldly, "On the one hand, he announced to the Seven Kingdoms that I am the usurper, and on the other hand, he supported my actions. Is this Grimm Crabbe treating me as a pawn in his hands?"

"The night is long and dark, and everywhere is dangerous."

Melisandre gently stroked the back of Stannis' neck, her eyes full of piety and determination: "Under the true gods, we are all mortals. And you are the only son of fire, the prince prophesied - the reincarnation of Azor Ahai, the light bringer. In this dark age, you shoulder the mission of saving the people."

…………

…………

At the Blackwater River Wharf, a bustling crowd of people was moving around, and all kinds of noisy sounds were intertwined.

Ser Dale Seaworth (Davos' eldest son) was wearing shiny silver armor that gleamed coldly in the sunlight.

He was patrolling the dock meticulously with his guards, not leaving out any corner, his eyes full of vigilance and concentration.

Ser Arad Seaworth (Davos's second son), who was squatting next to the vendor and eating grilled fish, saw his brother at a glance. He immediately stood up, threw away the grilled fish bones in his hand, and strode towards Dale.

"Hey, Dale," Allard shouted at the top of his lungs.

Sir Dale turned around when he heard the voice and his eyes fell on his younger brother. His expression was very similar to their father's, calm and resolute, and the brown hair on his square face was also flowing and sparse.

He looked his brother up and down, and said gently, "I thought you had already left."

Sir Arad clapped his hands, trying to wipe off the oil stains on his hands, with a bright smile on his face: "I will take the afternoon boat. Sir Mason ordered me to bring the newly arrived blankets."

"Blanket?"

Dale couldn't help but frown, his eyes full of confusion. Ser Arad shrugged: "I guess, our noble Targaryen princess, how could her shoes be stained with dust."

Sir Dale frowned even more, and he looked at his brother seriously: "Arad, watch your tongue, it will bring trouble to our father."

After a pause, the elder brother's tone became earnest: "Father taught us that the highest honor of the Seaworth family is loyalty. We only need to obey orders."

When Arad heard this, a hint of impatience flashed across his face, but he quickly suppressed it: "Okay, okay, I will control my tongue, don't worry."

As he spoke, he took a step forward, put his arm around his brother's shoulders, and whispered, "Dale, you won't tell father about this, will you?"

Sir Dale glanced at his brother, a hint of helplessness flashed in his eyes, then he smiled and said, "When we get to Dragonstone, take good care of father."

Arad looked at his brother anxiously, as if to confirm whether he really would not complain.

He patted his chest, a confident smile appeared on his face, and jokingly said: "Don't worry, I am Lord Davos's strong shield."

After a pause, he glanced around and said in a low voice, "Dale, there are many strangers who have been asking about the Targaryen princess recently."

Dale nodded slightly, and as he walked forward, he said, "Now the entire Seven Kingdoms are paying attention to the Targaryen princess, so there is no need to bother with them."

He raised his hand to signal his adjutant to continue patrolling with the guards, while he and Arad walked towards the grilled fish stall that was filled with fragrant aroma.

…………

The Red Keep, the throne room, and the magnificent dome highlight the majesty of the Iron Throne.

The Regent was out inspecting the farmland near King's Landing. Mace Tyrell, dressed in a gorgeous green robe, sat majestically at the head seat of the royal conference table, acting as the governor of the kingdom.

He was listening to the statement of the Chancellor of the Exchequer, Lord Giles Rosby, and ignoring the occasional provocative glances from Princess Arianne.

After Earl Gales finished his statement, he slowly sat back in his chair. Prime Minister Mace nodded slightly, his movements steady and elegant: "To welcome Princess Daenerys, we need to prepare at least another 50,000 gold dragons..."

He stroked his carefully trimmed triangular beard and continued, "Lord Gales, I will arrange for the merchants from the Reach to meet you. The rest is entirely up to you."

As soon as he finished speaking, Earl Giles couldn't help coughing, and his cough was particularly abrupt in the silent throne room.

He relaxed a little, resisted the discomfort, stood up and saluted respectfully, with a hint of gratitude in his voice: "Thank you for your help, Prime Minister. I am very grateful."

Prime Minister Metz was very satisfied with the Finance Minister's humble attitude. He could not hide his smug look on his face. He raised his hand and said, "We must satisfy Her Royal Highness the Princess. Thank you for your help."

Princess Arianne then spoke slowly, "Respected Prime Minister, my political officer informed me that they are running out of gold royals to expand the prison. Please allow me to ask the Minister of Finance for some as soon as possible." Prime Minister Mace paused while stroking his beard. He looked at Arianne in surprise, with a hint of confusion in his eyes, "The prison is still being expanded?"

He frowned slightly, stroked his beard and thought for a moment, then said, "I remember... the day before yesterday, most of the prisoners were tried and exiled to the Riverlands and Crab Claw Peninsula by you, right?"

Arianne glanced at him lightly, raised the corners of her lips, and said with a half-smile: "Well, His Royal Highness the Regent's order is to continue to deepen the 'cleansing'. The good people are looking forward to the news of the crimes, Prime Minister."

Prime Minister Mace's cheeks slowly puffed up, and after a pause, he squeezed out a voice: "How many gold dragons do you need?"

Arianne leaned back against the arm of the Lord Chancellor's chair, her posture lazy and casual, and she held out three slender fingers to him.

Seeing this, the Duke of Metz couldn't help but stare: "Thirty thousand?"

As Lord Gyles coughed, Princess Arianne stared back at the Prime Minister without showing any weakness: "Three thousand gold royals."

Then, she couldn't help but mutter in a low voice: "It's not like we're building a palace..."

Prime Minister Mace seemed not to have heard Arianne's "complaint". He smiled heartily and waved his hand: "Lord Gales, increase the amount by three thousand... no, five thousand gold dragons."

Count Matus Rowan: “…”

Earl Giles nodded in the direction of the main seat: "As you wish, Prime Minister."

Princess Arianne smiled happily, as bright as a blooming flower: "Thank you for your generosity, Prime Minister."

Prime Minister Metz narrowed his eyes and stroked his beard, saying in a spirited manner: "Grandmaster, next topic."

The maester's necklace jingled softly, and Grand Maester Pycelle stood up tremblingly. His body was hunched, and his face was full of traces of time.

He cleared his throat and spoke: "Prime Minister, my Lords, at the order of His Royal Highness the Regent, I have sent an invitation to all nobles of the Seven Kingdoms to attend the coronation ceremony of Princess Daenerys."

As soon as Pycelle stopped, Prime Minister Mace suddenly turned around and looked at the Royal Butler standing beside him: "How is the repair progress of Maeger's Tower?"

Upon hearing this, the Imperial Butler was stunned for a moment, but he quickly reacted, then bowed slightly and replied respectfully: "The repair work has been completed, and the remaining decorations will be completed by the end of this month, Prime Minister."

cough cough cough.

This time the cough came from where Count Matus was. He raised his hand to cover his mouth and nose, as if trying to suppress his discomfort.

Then, seeing the Lord of the Reach looking at him with confusion and concern, Lord Matus sighed secretly and pointed at Grand Maester Pycelle who was standing with his back bowed.

After a pause, Prime Minister Mace sat upright and said majestically: "Please continue."

"As ordered."

Pycelle had roughly calculated the number of guests, and the ministers had another discussion on the details of the banquet, such as the seating arrangement, dishes, and entertainment programs. After several rounds of adjustments, they finally concluded the topic.

As soon as Pycelle sat down, Princess Arianne's voice suddenly rang out with a hint of coldness: "Grand Maester, has Winterfell responded?"

Pycelle's cloudy eyes slowly swept across everyone's faces, and he said in a trembling voice, "There is no reply yet, Your Highness."

Lord Matus glanced at Prime Minister Mace, who was frowning, and spoke for the first time in today's royal meeting. His voice was steady and calm: "Normally, the ravens from Winterfell should have delivered the reply from the Stark family."

Hearing this, Princess Arianne raised the corners of her mouth slightly, revealing a sneer: "The Starks may not have recovered from their fear yet. I believe they already know the fate of Baratheon and Lannister now."

Prime Minister Mace's frown suddenly relaxed, and a light flashed in his eyes. He seemed to be a hunter who saw his prey. "Don't they intend to voluntarily submit to the Targaryen Iron Throne?"

His voice, which could not conceal his excitement, fell and the surroundings suddenly became silent.

Count Matus's expression became complicated. Looking at Prime Minister Mace's uncontrollable excitement, he felt that Duke Tyrell's purpose was too obvious.

Yes, the Duke of Mace is considering the possibility of leading an army of 100,000 north to Winterfell... Storm's End has become an eternal regret in his heart.

He has longed to prove his military talent on the battlefield...Looking around the Seven Kingdoms, the only place where he can display his art of war is Pyke in the Iron Islands.

However, the fleet of the Reach had just suffered a severe blow and was unable to launch a large-scale sea crossing attack on the Iron Islands in the short term.

Just now... he was pleasantly surprised to find that there was a Winterfell among the Seven Kingdoms!

Seeing that everyone remained silent, Prime Minister Mace stroked his beard and sighed deeply, "Winterfell doesn't seem to be worried about the wrath of the Dragon family..."

Pycelle glanced at everyone and said, "Perhaps we can report to the Regent and issue a stern warning to Winterfell in the name of the Royal Council."

After hearing this, Prime Minister Metz frowned slightly, obviously not satisfied with the proposal: "This method is useless, right?"

Earl Matus looked towards the main seat and said, "Lord Mace, this step is necessary. Only in this way can we test the attitude of Winterfell and decide our next step."

Princess Arianne smiled. She rarely comforted the somewhat frustrated Duke of Inflatable Fish: "From what I know, Lord Stark is both stubborn and stupid. Prime Minister, you can look forward to the response from Winterfell."

…………

Tap tap tap tap.

The imperial meeting had just ended when a burst of dense footsteps came closer and closer.

Everyone looked and saw that the person coming was Klebb's retainer knight, Sir Per Pili. Behind him were the commander-in-chief of the King's Landing garrison and the commander-in-chief of the Red Castle garrison, as well as several adjutants.

"My Lords, Lord Green has ordered me to escort you to Sow Corner (located north of King's Landing, near the border between the Crownland and the Riverlands) to watch the tournament he is hosting."

(End of this chapter)