Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 131 Departure to Yangji City

On the docks of Dragonstone, the sea breeze, carrying a salty, fishy smell, fluttered Princess Elia Martell's skirt. Her pale face glowed with anticipation as she held the babbling Rhaenys in her arms, her gaze towards Euron filled with a rare, vibrant light.

“I haven’t been to Dorne since Rhaenys was born, and my brother has said many times he wants to see her. So it’s settled,” her voice was soft but couldn’t hide her joy. “Rhaenys and I will return to Dorne with you. I’ll go back to Sunspear to see my brother Doran first, and then I’ll set off with you, Miss Ashara, and my long-lost, wild brother Oberyn, to Harrenhal.” The thought of temporarily escaping the damp, cold sea breezes of Dragonstone, returning to the Dorne sunshine, and reuniting with her brother and friends seemed to lessen her physical weakness, a genuine smile playing on her lips. “I believe it will be a delightful journey.”

Euron stood beside her, his gaze sweeping over the ships anchored in the harbor. He nodded slightly, his tone steady and cautious: "It is my honor to travel with you and Her Highness the Princess, my lady. But this matter still requires Prince Rhaegar's final consent." He paused, then added, his reason impeccable, "After all, the journey is long..."

Sea voyages are fraught with uncertainty, and the prince's permission is of paramount importance.

His words expressed both respect for royal protocol and concern for the safety of Elijah and her daughter.

She safely handed over the final decision-making power to her husband.

A faint, confident smile appeared on Ilya Martell's pale face, and she nodded slightly.

Her tone was gentle, yet carried a subtle certainty: "Of course. My—husband," she paused almost imperceptibly as she uttered the title, "he won't object."

At the dinner party, she found an opportunity to tell Rhaegar about their plan to travel to Dorne together.

As soon as Ilya finished speaking, Rhaegar's gaze seemed to slowly withdraw from some distant dream. His violet eyes, as if veiled by a thin mist, swept lightly over his wife, seemingly more concerned with whether she would cause inconvenience to others than with the risks of the journey itself.

"It's a long journey," his voice was soft but lacked warmth, "Wouldn't that be too much trouble for Greyjoy?"

Upon hearing this, Euron, standing to the side, naturally leaned forward slightly, not in a stiff, formal manner.

It's more like a casual respect carried on the sea breeze.

“Your Highness, you worry too much,” Euron interjected, his tone relaxed and sincere. “It is my honor to have Princess Icha to chat with and keep me entertained on this journey. She is knowledgeable and witty, and time will pass much faster than expected.” He smiled, his gaze turning amicably to little Rhaenys in Ilya’s arms. “Moreover, with two princesses traveling together, this journey will surely be even more enjoyable.”

Euron then added in a reassuringly pragmatic tone, demonstrating meticulous attention to detail, "Comfort is paramount at sea. We've calculated the wind direction and tides, and plan to stop at Tass Island halfway through the voyage. It's a calm harbor, perfect for Princess Elia and Princess Rhaenys to relax ashore and escape the ship's rocking. We'll also take this opportunity to replenish our fresh water and food supplies, ensuring a comfortable and quick journey to Sunspear City for the rest of the voyage."

Rega nodded casually.

In the throne room of the Red Castle, shadows twisted and writhed between the pillars of light cast through the high windows.

Beneath the Iron Throne, amidst countless intertwined and tearing black blades, the gaunt figure of Aerys II was deeply embedded, his fingers unconsciously scraping against a rusted blade, leaving a subtle yet grating sound.

Prince Rhaegar stood silently beneath him, his silver hair and purple eyes making him as upright as a spear, yet he seemed to bear the weight of the entire hall alone.

"You're back." King Iris II's voice was hoarse, like the grinding of sand from the depths of a cave. "Perfect timing. Go see your mother, and your brother." He paused subtly on the word "brother," a hint of undisguised disgust lurking beneath. Then, his tone shifted, a fanatical flame flickering in his eyes: "The tournament at Harrenhal, you know about it? Are you going?"

"The Tournament of Harrenhal is known throughout Westeros, Father. It is a rare and momentous event in the Seven Kingdoms."

"Of course I wouldn't miss it." Rega's answer was impeccable and calm.

"A grand event? Humph!" King Iris II hissed. "Where did He'an get so many golden dragons? Hmm? Where did he get his money? Tell me!"

"I'm sure the Earl of Riveran has his own way of handling things. I've heard that the Iron Islands will be responsible for supplying all the drinks during the conference," Rega replied calmly, stating the information he already knew in a plain manner.

"The Iron Islands!" The Mad King's eyes narrowed sharply, like a venomous snake that had caught the scent of blood. "I've heard..."

That little sea monster is on your Dragonstone! Why is he on your Dragonstone? What does he want?

"He will also participate in the tournament. Furthermore, he is Ser Arthur Dayne's brother-in-law and is already engaged to Ashara..."

Dane was engaged; he was merely going to Dragonstone for training and had no other important business. Rhaegar's explanation was concise and clear, attempting to rationalize Euron's existence.

Aerys II let out a sharp, cold laugh. "Do you know what he did on his way to Dragonstone? Just because a few Frey knights 'harassed' his handmaids—" he exaggeratedly mimicked the word, spitting as he spoke, "—he slaughtered a dozen Frey men! Not a single one was spared! What a barbaric act!"

"This matter has been settled, Your Majesty. The Earl of Harrenhal has written to Marquis Walder Frey, ruling that the Frey family is at fault. Euron Greyjoy's actions are seen as upholding his own honor." Rhaegar's voice remained steady, but a faint trace of weariness flickered across his brow.

"Honor? An Ironborn?! A pirate?! I've never heard such a ridiculous joke!" King Iris II roared, his maniacal laughter echoing through the empty hall. "What honor does an Ironborn have? Plunder is their honor! Murder is their dogma!"

"The Iron Islands are also part of the Seven Kingdoms. Perhaps Father shouldn't call them the Ironborn, pirates."

Rega remained silent, only nodding slightly, maintaining the courtesy of silence. He knew that arguing was pointless.

After Rhaegar's figure completely disappeared through the heavy doors of the throne room, Aerys II's twisted rage did not subside; instead, it transformed into an even more sinister and treacherous scheme. He beckoned with his finger, and Varys emerged silently from the shadows like a ghost, his fleshy face bearing an eternal, unsettling smile.

"Go," the Mad King's voice was low but filled with malice, "deliver a letter to Walder Frey in Lee River City. Tell him the route the little sea monster took after leaving Dragonstone, in detail."

Varys bowed deeply, his expression inscrutable: "As Your Majesty wishes. However, Princess Elia Martell and her daughter will accompany the little sea monster—"

The Mad King waved his hand impatiently, as if shooing away a fly, interrupting him. His eyes were filled only with hatred for the "little sea monster" and the pleasure of revenge; he didn't mention a word about the safety of the Dornish princess and the Targaryen bloodline, as if they didn't exist at all.

Varys didn't ask any more questions, but simply bowed again and silently retreated into the shadows, as if he had never been there.

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