Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 151 Sales pitch – Sea Monster Red Wine

The attendant deftly uncorked the bottle, and a rich, complex aroma of fruit and oak instantly wafted out, filling the air. He respectfully poured wine for the Duke of Tywin, Prince Oberyn, and others present. The wine was a deep ruby ​​red, shimmering brilliantly in the light.

Lord Tywin Lannister did not rush to drink. Following the etiquette of wine tasting, he calmly picked up the glass, gently swirled it, and observed the "tears" of wine clinging to the side of the glass.

He then brought the glass to his nose and took a deep sniff. The aroma was rich and layered, with the sweetness of ripe black cherry and plum, mixed with a unique minerality and a sea breeze-like crispness, and the finish was smoky and spicy from the fine oak barrels.

Merely observing its color and smelling its aroma, Tywin's usually imperceptible brow twitched slightly. With his discerning taste and knowledge, he had already determined that this was no ordinary wine, and might even surpass many renowned top-tier red wines.

Although Cersei Lannister still wore a disdainful expression, when she subconsciously imitated her father's actions and smelled the unusually complex and alluring fragrance, a barely perceptible look of surprise flashed in her eyes.

Everyone slowly raised their glasses, taking a small sip of the deep, ruby-red liquid according to etiquette. The liquid lingered in their mouths for a moment, savoring the delicate tannins and complex flavors unfolding on their tongues. After a brief silence, heartfelt exclamations of praise rang out from the table, except for Cersei Lannister, whose lips remained tightly pressed together, her expression displeased, as if she had drunk vinegar rather than fine wine.

Lord Tywin Lannister slowly set down his glass, a barely perceptible smile softening his usually stern lips. He commented, "Full-bodied and well-structured. The tannins, though robust, are silky smooth, with a rare minerality and power in the finish. This is no small feat, Mr. Greyjoy. Your dedication and patience in winemaking are truly remarkable." His praise was calm and precise, more like a well-considered evaluation report.

Prince Oberyn Martell laughed heartily, sparing no praise: "Ha! Fine wine! On the palate, it's bursting with fruity flavor, but beyond that lies the heat of the Dornish sun and the sharpness of the sea breeze! This wine has an indomitable spirit, just like its master! Euron, I must order a few more barrels from you!"

Tyrion Lannister swirled his glass, took a small sip, and his shrewd eyes immediately lit up. "Excellent! The aroma reminds me of the aged, wise-scented leather scrolls in the Oldtown Library, yet on the palate it's such a youthful and vibrant storm of berries! Paradoxical! Enchanting! This is a flavor fit for poetry!"

Ser Kevan Lannister nodded slightly, succinctly expressing his approval: "Full-bodied and perfectly balanced. A truly exceptional brew." As Tywin's most trusted lieutenant, his affirmation carried considerable weight.

Even Jaime Lannister added with a smile, displaying his characteristic chivalry: "The potency of this liquor is enough to give a knight a good drink before charging! Fine liquor!"

Princess Elia Martell smiled at Euron, her voice gentle yet clear: "I told you, this is truly fine wine. Its quality is enough to silence any prejudice."

The atmosphere at the table became lively because of the unexpectedly excellent wine, and heartfelt praises rose and fell. Only Cersei remained aloof, her silence forming a stark contrast with the praise around her.

Lord Tywin Lannister took another sip of the deep liquid in his glass, allowing its complex and powerful flavors to fully unfold in his mouth. After a moment, he slowly set down his glass, his pale green eyes, adorned with scattered gold, sharply fixed on Euron, and offered a weighty assessment: "The quality of this wine is indeed superior to the best vintage wine of Greenbeard."

He shifted the conversation to the most practical question, his tone revealing the prudence and pragmatism of a true businessman: "Can such a fine wine be mass-produced now?" This was not just about the taste, but also about its potential commercial value.

Euron smiled confidently; this was the question he had been waiting for: "Of course, Your Grace."

"Our cellars are fully prepared. After the Harrenhal Tournament, the 'Golden Kraken' will officially set sail for the Seven Kingdoms and even the free trading cities across the Narrow Sea," he said, his tone respectful yet dignified. "At that time, we will need Lord Tywin's guidance to open up the Western markets for our fine wine."

Lord Tywin Lannister nodded calmly almost without hesitation, making a decision that reflected both his approval of the quality and his keen business acumen: "Of course. The first batch of fifty barrels of this golden sea monster will be ordered for Casterly Rock."

Euron continued his presentation with unhurried ease, like a merchant showcasing treasures: "In fact, our Iron Islands' 'Sea Monster' series of red wines includes far more than just this one 'Golden Sea Monster'." We then proceeded to describe it according to grape variety,

The winemaking process and aging time are divided into four levels: White Sea Monster is refreshing and crisp, suitable for women and children; Blue Sea Monster is mellow and long-lasting, similar to the red wines of Qingting Island in the past; Purple Sea Monster is deep and complex, with an added flavor, and is slightly cheaper; while the Golden Sea Monster you just tasted is the ultimate collection, and of course, the most expensive. Each one has a distinct flavor and personality, enough to satisfy various occasions and tastes.

Upon hearing this well-organized and strategically sound presentation, a rare, discernible smile appeared on Tywin Lannister's rock-solid face. It was a smile tinged with appreciation and surprise. He commented in a low voice, "Greyjoy, you certainly—are very good at business."

Euron sighed softly, a sigh tinged with heaviness and a bitter smile: "It is a last resort, Your Grace. You are surely well aware of the barrenness and harshness of the Iron Islands. If we do not wish for our people to survive through the ancient method of 'forever relying on plunder,' we must forge a new path. Prosperous trade is a more solid foundation than any fleet."

Euron's fiancée, Ashara Dayne, sat quietly beside him. Her long, dark hair cascaded down her back, making her skin appear even whiter and more translucent. In particular, her unforgettable violet eyes, inherited from the Dayne family of Starfall City, were clearly reflecting Euron's figure. Her gaze was filled with undisguised adoration and heartfelt respect.

Lord Tywin Lannister's gaze swept over the young couple's tightly clasped hands. A hint of gentleness appeared on his usually stern face, as if he were seeing a reflection of his younger self and Joanna. He spoke calmly, his tone carrying the approval of an elder: "Ser Arthur Dayne is not only the most skilled swordsman on the continent, but also possesses an exceptional eye for talent. It seems he has found a truly suitable husband for his beautiful sister, Lady Ashara."

Ashara felt the gazes of the crowd, but instead of bowing her head in embarrassment, she gripped Euron's hand even tighter. She raised her captivating purple eyes, her voice soft yet filled with happiness and determination: "Yes, Lord Tywin. I feel incredibly fortunate."

This sincere confession and the harmonious scene before them caused the three Lannister siblings opposite to look at the lovers, each with a different expression and complex gaze.

Cersei's eyes burned with an uncontrollable jealousy and resentment; everything she longed for but could not have seemed to sting her. Jaime's gaze, on the other hand, was intertwined with a hint of longing and a faint melancholy, perhaps a fleeting moment of pure emotion. In the depths of Tyrion's worldly-wise eyes lay a bittersweet yet sincere blessing, a distant and tender glance cast upon a kind of beauty that he dared not even dare to hope for.

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