iron throne of ice and fire

Chapter 673 Endless life
"..."

Hearing Earl Roose's sarcasm, Viscount Velas shook his head helplessly: "Tyrell members are not distinguished by men or women, but only by their ability and contribution to the family."

Count Luce stared at him for a moment with his light-colored eyes: "Is it a special blessing from the gods that makes the woman of the rose more outstanding than the man?"

Velas remained silent for a longer time before slowly speaking: "My lord, the deal between Tyrell and Bolton is not yet over."

Upon hearing this, Earl Roosevelt's eyes flickered slightly: "Viscount, it seems that Dreadfort still has value in Tyrell's eyes."

As he spoke, he pursed his thin lips: "Please forgive me for refusing, but in my eyes, Highgarden has no value anymore."

"Nobody likes accidents..."

Viscount Velas, his elegant expression unchanged, shrugged and continued, "...Fortunately, the Reach has preserved its honor and strength amidst this chaos, just as it did seventeen years ago."

"Seventeen years ago?"

Earl Luce sneered again: "Seventeen years later, the stag, the lion, and the falcon have vanished, the trout are barely surviving, and King Green I has taken the Vale, the Riverlands, the Westerlands, the Stormlands, and the Royal Territory. Ah, the Golden Rose has indeed preserved its honor."

Velas's handsome face stiffened for a moment, but his smile remained unchanged: "You missed one. The North is also... barely clinging to life."

Lord Roose clenched his fist and said coldly, "As long as Lord Stark is here, the honor of the North will be restored sooner or later."

His emotionless eyes shifted towards me: "Lord Tyrell, patience is the most valuable survival wisdom of a nobleman."

"Yes, I have to admit that."

Viscount Velas met Luce's gaze and shrugged slightly: "Stannis is dead. Although the war is over, the game of the nobles will not stop. This is the wisdom passed down by the nobles for thousands of years."

Lord Roosevelt narrowed his eyes, giving the Highgarden heir a quick glance before speaking: "Dreadfort will not test that man's patience. If Tyrell is interested in provoking you, may the old and new gods bless you."

His brows were still furrowed. He paused, then added, "As a former friend, I'll remind you again: that man's wife is the Dragon Queen."

About three hundred years ago, Aegon the Conqueror used dragonfire to destroy the former ruling family of the Reach—the Gardeners.

However, Tyrell, the steward of the Gardeners' family, promptly surrendered Highgarden, and in return, Aegon rewarded the Tyrell family with Highgarden and the Reach.

Viscount Velas twitched the hand gripping the armrest of his wheelchair, his voice trembling almost imperceptibly: "Thank you for your kind reminder, Earl of Dreadfort."

There was a pause.

Count Luce asked directly, "Tell me, why did you come to me? I thought we would be strangers forever."

Velas seemed to be admiring the withered flowerbeds in the distance, and continued, "Has that 'Queen of Thorns' come up with another brilliant idea?"

A mocking smile appeared on his thin lips: "Viscount, as an obedient child, you should obediently pass on the message. My patience is running out."

Velas's standard aristocratic smile vanished instantly. He shifted his gaze expressionlessly, paused, and then spoke: "Rouss Bolton, you are indeed a Northerner."

Count Roosevelt scoffed, “Velas Tyrell, arrogant Southerner.”

Velas: "..."

Rumor has it that the Earl of Dreadfort is one of the few First Men nobles in the North who doesn't resemble barbarians...

Luce's skin was very pale, darker than milk and lighter than rock; time seemed to have left no trace on his face...

Turning her gaze away, Velas ended the suffocating stare between the two; the noble rose would not allow herself to get stuck in the mud with the rude northerner.

and.

Velas also guessed the reason for Luce's unusual behavior: the count was afraid of the man he spoke of.
Not wanting to leave behind or create any hidden dangers for the Dreadfort, they aimed to preserve the honor of the Bolton family under the new dynasty.

Thinking of this, Velas smiled slightly: "It wasn't Lady Olena's deal, Earl Luce, it was my own suggestion."

"I'm not interested..."

Velas raised his hand to interrupt Luce, his gaze returning to him: "You need a suitable wife, and my cousin just happens not to have found a suitable husband yet."

[The Earl of Luce's second wife, Bessanie Leswell, died of a fever; their son died of an internal illness about four years earlier.] [The Earl of Luce's third wife was Vadah Frey, known as Fat Vadah. Marquis Walder Frey promised her a silver deer of equal weight as a dowry; his fiancée later died at Robb's "Red Wedding" (image 374).]

Following the Bloody Wedding, the Southern nobles, who already looked down on the Northern nobles, became even more averse to marriage alliances with them. Meanwhile, the ancient Northern nobles were unwilling to form alliances with the Dreadfort, making it difficult for Count Roosevelt to find a suitable marriage partner.

Count Luce's pupils contracted slightly. He paused for a moment before slowly speaking, "It seems that the noble rose doesn't care about the eyes of others."

“Stark, Seven, Dustin, Horwood, Manderley, Mormont, the Umber family…”

As he spoke, Viscount Velas smiled calmly and spread one hand: "At least the honorable Skinners did not trample on the sacred rights of guests, did they?"

Count Luce remained silent for a long while: "Reason."

Velas's voice held a newfound sincerity: "Our deal took an unexpected turn. Life and Death, Tyrell is willing to compensate us to mend our precious friendship."

Lord Roosevelt was silent for a moment: "Shouldn't Stark be the first choice for this 'compensation'?"

Velas looked in the direction of Megata, shook his head, and said, "No, Tyrell's first choice is the Queen and the King's heir."

Earl Luce couldn't help but chuckle, "Truly worthy of being called...everlasting."

"I will take this as a sincere compliment from you."

Then, looking somewhat tired, Velas said, "I will prepare a generous dowry for my cousin, and I hope she will be happy for the rest of her life."

Count Luce's wariness deepened: "Dreadfort won't provoke that man."

Upon hearing this, Viscount Velas chuckled: "Of course, Dreadfort is, after all, part of the North, while Stark..."

He seemed to carefully consider his words, then moved his lips: "...He will always be Bolton's lord."

Ha, what a hypocrite.

Count Luce glanced at him and asked directly, "Northern roses are worthless. Please tell me the true purpose of Southern roses, or rather... what do you intend to do with the Dreadfort?"

Velas glanced at the sky: "When the sun sets, you will meet a young girl in a little trouble at the 'Blacksmith's Tavern' at the Blackwater River docks. Please rescue her, like a knight in a poem..."

Sitting in his wheelchair, he nodded slightly and then gestured for the attendant waiting nearby to come over: "Friendship is precious, and we need to rebuild our mutual trust."

After watching Velas's departing figure for a while, Count Luce turned around and, with his guards, strode off in another direction.

……

At night, Layton, one of the stewards of the Red Keep and whose hidden identity is the Chief of Intelligence, enters Megaton.

Outside the bedroom, Steward Surana said with a stern face, "Your Excellency Layton, you should know very well the Queen's rest time."

Layton looked embarrassed and said with a slightly helpless tone, "Your Excellency, Lady Surana, Her Majesty Green has specific requirements for the efficiency of certain intelligence gatherings. I am now the Queen's eyes and ears."

"I hope so. I'll go and report it."

Not long after Steward Surana went in, the door was opened again, and Layton was given permission to enter the bedroom.

Daenerys reclined on the bench, looking up from behind her thick books: "Lydon."

Layton paused slightly. Daenerys's expression and tone were so similar to his master, Grimm, that he was momentarily stunned.

He bowed respectfully: "Good night, my queen. Please forgive my intrusion."

"What happened?"

"A little bird from the docks brought news that Earl Bolton, who was planning to depart tonight, has stayed at the inn."

"Oh?"

Daenerys closed the book, slowly straightened her back, and pondered for a moment: "Is it because of Viscount Tyrell?"

(End of this chapter)