Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 144 Battle for Honor

Ashara and Arianne walked hand in hand through the crowd.

Asara's face was filled with uncontrollable joy and pride. Although she had long known that Euron was a master swordsman and had undergone months of arduous training with her brother Arthur on Dragonstone, witnessing his heroic feat of defeating ten Dornish warriors in a row still stirred her heart, and her violet eyes sparkled with captivating brilliance.

Arianne wasn't about to miss the chance to tease her friend. She nudged Asara lightly with her elbow, her voice low but loud enough for those around to hear, her tone full of sly teasing: "Look at some of them, they were so nervous they almost tore their skirts apart just now~ afraid that if someone failed, she'd be forced to consider remarrying someone else tomorrow."

Two red clouds instantly rose on Asara's cheeks. She glared at Arianne shyly, but did not deny it.

Euron, upon hearing this, showed a hint of curiosity. He looked at Ashara and asked seriously, "So, if I had really lost just now, according to the rules of Dorne, our engagement would really be null and void?"

"Of course not!" Asara immediately shook her head, explaining softly, "That's just what the challenger says. Usually at that point, the woman's family—like my brother, or Prince Doran—will step in and declare: This person has proven themselves with strength and courage; though defeated, they are still honorable! The engagement remains valid." It's just a traditional way of encouraging the contestants and keeping the final decision firmly in their own hands.

After hearing this, Youlun deliberately let out a long sigh of relief, put on a regretful expression as if he had "lost a lot," and said with a distressed smile, "You should have said so earlier! If I had known it would be like this, I wouldn't have fought so hard just now. Losing a couple of matches wouldn't have mattered."

His lazy joke immediately made Ashara burst into laughter, and Arianne let out a string of clear laughs.

After the banquet ended and the noise subsided, Euron and Ashara said goodnight to each other at the end of the corridor and returned to their respective rooms.

Warm steam filled the bathroom as You Lun leaned against the edge of the tub, closing his eyes to relax his body after the intense battle.

Lisa knelt behind him, gently wiping his broad back with a soft cloth, water trickling down his taut muscles. Her movements were gentle, and after a moment of silence, she spoke softly, her voice tinged with barely perceptible worry: "Your behavior tonight—was rather reckless, almost offending all the nobles of Dorne."

Euron didn't open his eyes or answer. He simply reached out and precisely embraced Lisa's slender waist. His water-drenched hand habitually caressed her smooth skin, carrying a hint of lazy possessiveness.

Lisa stiffened slightly, then gently but firmly grasped his restless hand, her voice even lower: "No—you just officially met Miss Asara today, you can't do this." She paused, then earnestly advised, "Right now—you should go find Miss Asara."

Euron finally opened his eyes, turned to look at her, and gave a knowing smile: "Go find her? Ashara comes from the Dane family and adheres to the rules of propriety. She will never agree to any transgressions before marriage."

"I didn't mean for you to go—" Lisa's cheeks flushed in the steamy air as she hurriedly explained, "I meant, you should go and talk to her. She's your future wife, the noble jewel of Star City. And I—" Her voice trailed off, filled with resigned submissiveness, "I'll only ever be your concubine."

"No." Euron's voice suddenly became clear and firm. He turned around, water splashing. He cupped Lisa's face, forcing her to look at him, his gaze intense and unwavering. "Listen carefully, Lisa. Not a salt concubine."

Euron gently stroked her chin with his thumb, each word ringing out: "You are my woman."

That was true in the past, is true now, and will be true in the future. And she will be one of the queens who accompany me to the pinnacle. I will never let you suffer any injustice.

In the misty haze, Eulen's promise was burning hot and solemn.

Although Lisa was filled with indescribable emotion, she resolutely suppressed the ripples in her heart. She clearly knew the boundaries of her identity and position, and she understood Euron's true heart's desire. Therefore, she softly but solemnly advised Euron not to worry about her, but to go to Asara's side and spend quality time with her.

Euron heeded this well-intentioned advice.

When the night was still and quiet, he came to Ashara's door and gently knocked on it.

The door opened, and Asara appeared in the soft light. Without exchanging many words, the two walked together to the stone steps by the window outside the room and sat down. A cool Dornish sea breeze blew gently, ruffling their hair and carrying away the hustle and bustle of the day.

They stood shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand, talking quietly in the tranquil night.

From the rich red wine of Dorne to the damp, cold sea breeze and arduous training of Dragonstone; from Prince Rhaegar's melancholy to the breathtaking flames and naval battle of Greenwood—Euron recounted the story calmly, while Ashara listened attentively.

As she listened, a blush crept onto Asara's cheeks in the moonlight, whether from the wine, the night breeze, or the comfort brought by the person beside her, she couldn't tell. Gently, as if naturally, she nestled her head on Euron's broad shoulder, finding the most comfortable position.

The evening breeze, whispers, and snuggling—everything was just right.

The following morning, the sandy plaza outside Flowing Gardens, usually used for training, was already filled with many Dornish swordsmen filled with resentment.

Instead of waiting quietly, they deliberately swung their swords forcefully, slamming the blades against the shields, creating a series of loud, jarring clangs and shouts. The deafening noise shattered the tranquility of the garden, their intention simple and direct: to keep the arrogant Ironborn from sleeping soundly and force him to come out of the castle immediately.

However, they did not know that this clamorous provocation sounded like the most wonderful invitation to Euron.

Euron was secretly pondering that the "points" he had gained yesterday were far less than expected, and he couldn't be happier to have these challengers who had come to him willingly.

"If it's offered to us, we might as well take it."

With this in mind, Euron calmly appeared.

The result was predictable, just like the previous night, only this time even faster. Ten confident young noblemen from Dorne were defeated one after another, falling to the ground, their faces filled with disbelief and humiliation.

In order to "harvest" these "points" that were offered to him more consistently and efficiently, Euron did not hesitate to show off his superb acting skills.

Euron's victory was not a simple retreat; rather, he deliberately displayed just the right amount of humiliation. It was an undisguised, arrogant gaze, as if defeating his opponent was merely brushing away a speck of dust. Accompanied by his disdainful and arrogant back as he turned to leave, every detail was like a cold file, relentlessly grinding down the sense of honor that the Dornish nobles valued most, leaving them filled with shame and indignation, almost grinding their teeth to powder.

"Let's continue tomorrow if you dare!" The humiliation of defeat turned into the most direct challenge.

When asked to accept the invitation, Euron readily agreed, but the infuriating smile on his lips never disappeared.

Thus, the nature of this daily contest outside the Flowing Water Garden had already quietly changed.

It was no longer about romance, no longer about Ashara Dayne or Arianne Martell. It had evolved into a battle of honor, purely to defeat Euron Greyjoy and to save face for the entire younger generation of Dorne.