Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 162 Brienne - The Ball

The revelry of the party continued, amidst the music and laughter, but Euron keenly caught a gaze that stood out from the crowd. It came from a corner of Tass—Brainy Tass had arrived as promised and was standing awkwardly beside her father. She wore a dress that clearly didn't fit her properly; for a warrior accustomed to armor and sword hilts, this ornate constraint made her feel awkward, every movement stiff and uneasy.

Euron approached leisurely, a wine glass in hand, his voice calm: "You've come. But it seems you're not quite comfortable here."

Brienne lowered her head, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible: "Yes."

"Head up, chest out," Euron said, staring at her with an unquestionable tone. "You need to be more confident."

He then turned to the gentle-looking yet wise-eyed old man beside her—Count Selwyn Tas, "Star of Twilight"—and bowed slightly, saying, "Your Excellency, please allow me to be so bold. I would like to introduce a few friends to your daughter. Would that be permissible?"

Count Selwyn smiled and nodded: "Of course, it is her honor."

Brienne blushed, hesitated for a moment, and then gently took Euron's arm. He led her first to Ashara Dayne. Ashara had already heard about this Tass girl who dreamed of becoming a knight from Euron. She kindly straightened Brienne's crooked collar and sincerely praised, "You are so tall, and you must be very brave. I believe you will become a knight."

Euron then led her straight to the circle of the Kingsguard—where Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, Ser Geralt Hightower, the White Bull, Ser Barristan Selmy the Dauntless, and even Prince Rhaegar and the young Jaime Lannister were present.

Euron's voice was clear and resolute, echoing among the legendary knights: "She, Brienne of Tarth, will surely be the first true female knight of the Seven Kingdoms!"

Faced with these heroes she had admired since childhood, Brienne trembled with excitement and couldn't utter a single word.

"Fearless" Barristan carefully examined the girl before him, who was only eight years old but already unusually tall. His gaze swept over her bones and physique, and he took her hand, looking at her broad palm and thick calluses. He nodded solemnly: "This road will be very difficult," he said, his eyes filled with encouragement, "but I look forward to that day."

Euron led a still somewhat hesitant Brienne through the bustling crowd to the territory controlled by the Iron Islands. Under the kraken banner, his father, King Coron, was speaking quietly with his brother, Victarion.

"Father," Euron's voice broke their conversation as he gently led Brienne to him, "I would like to introduce you and Victarion to a friend—Miss Brienne of Tass."

King Coron had long heard descriptions of the "Tass Sapphire," knowing of her extraordinary height and her dream of becoming a knight. However, the impact of seeing her in person was still beyond words.

His sharp gaze couldn't hide his surprise. He lingered on her for a moment before slowly nodding in greeting.

Then Euron turned to his younger brother, known for his bravery but somewhat simple-mindedness, a barely perceptible smile playing on his lips: "And this is my brother, Victorion Greyjoy."

Victarion Greyjoy's reaction was even more direct. He was already quite tall and imposing, but when he saw Brienne's even taller frame and broad shoulders, his eyes widened instantly, and he instinctively took a half-step back.

A terrifying thought exploded uncontrollably in his mind—this was the future wife his brother had mentioned finding for him.

By the God of Drowning, if we start arguing—will she punch me to death?

Brienne sensed the undisguised astonishment in the other person. She lowered her head somewhat embarrassedly, blinked her clear blue eyes, and said timidly in a voice so soft it was almost inaudible, "Y--hello."

Euron cleared his throat, breaking the brief silence, and turned his gaze to his still-shocked brother: "Victalion," he said, his tone carrying an undeniable guiding tone, "perhaps you should invite Miss Brienne to dance."

As if startled awake, Victalion scratched his coarse, short hair awkwardly. After hesitating for a moment, he finally extended a large, calloused hand to Brienne, which was covered in calluses from years of wielding weapons.

Brienne hesitated for a moment, a hint of bewilderment flashing in her blue eyes, but she ultimately placed her hand gently on his, allowing the future captain of Iron Island to lead her into the shimmering, electric dance floor. The two seemed strangely incongruous, yet strangely harmonious.

Watching them leave, Youlun turned to his father and asked calmly, "Father, what do you think of her?"

'

King Coron's gaze remained fixed on the striking figures on the dance floor. After a moment's hesitation, he offered a remarkably restrained assessment: "Hmm—very special."

"She will definitely become an excellent knight." Euron's tone was full of certainty.

King Coron slowly withdrew his gaze, looking at his second son, a deeper consideration flickering in his eyes: "I hoped she would become an excellent lady of the land. But unfortunately..." He paused, then revealed a new piece of information, "I'll tell you something, I just went to see her father, Earl Selwyn of Twilight Star."

"He rejected the marriage proposal." King Coron's voice was unreadable, "saying that his daughter is still young, and the matter—will be discussed again in a few years."

Upon hearing this, You Lun showed no surprise on his face, and simply replied, "Yes, she is not old enough yet."

"

Two young figures, brimming with youthful vigor, strode through the crowd and headed straight for Euron—Robert Baratheon and Eddard Stark, who were like brothers to him.

Robert arrived before he did, his voice preceding him. With a loud laugh, he grabbed Euron's strong arm and punched him squarely in the chest. The force was astonishing, nearly knocking Euron unconscious.

"You bastard!" Robert's voice was as powerful as his movements, his eyes gleaming with a pure thirst for battle. "I've had enough of those Bloody Troupe scum for ages! Why didn't you think of me when you were fighting? Why didn't you call me?" His tone was full of regret, as if he had missed a grand celebration. "That kind of battle is truly exhilarating, truly gets the blood pumping!"

Eddard Stark, a gentle and composed smile on his face, chimed in, a hint of barely perceptible sarcasm in his tone: "Their bodies have barely been buried, and 'The Flames of Greentree' is already playing over the same land. When it comes to creating hype, no one can match you, Euron."

Euron chuckled, skillfully changing the subject: "Isn't it a bit of a mood killer to talk about fighting and killing during such a celebratory time?"

He gracefully raised his hand, pointing to the noisiest and brightest area at the other end of the hall. It seemed to be the magnetic center of the entire banquet, where the most young and energetic figures gathered, and the laughter and chatter almost drowned out the musicians' performance.

In this lavish ball, the noble and beautiful young ladies were undoubtedly the brightest stars, attracting countless admiring and envious glances.

Among the crowd, the most eye-catching were Ariana Hoan, who wore the Queen's Crown of Love and Beauty, looking youthful, lovely, and beautiful; and Princess Ariane Martell of Dorne, who exuded fiery passion and untamed spirit.

Ashara Dayne of Starfall is renowned for both her beauty and swordsmanship; Cersei Lannister of Casterly Rock, with her blond hair and blue eyes, possesses unparalleled beauty and an innate pride; Lyanna Stark of the North, with a wildness tinged with purity, is like a spirit of the forest; Lynise Hightower of Oldtown is elegant, learned, and eloquent; and Catelyn Tully of the Riverlands is gentle and dignified, like still waters running deep.

Ashara Dayne stood like a serene lotus amidst the clamor, offering an elegant yet firm smile to each noble youth who approached her for a dance, and politely declining in a clear yet gentle voice: "Thank you for your kind invitation, but my dance partner is already destined—my fiancé is Euron Greyjoy."

Not far away, Catelyn Tully responded to the enthusiasm around her with the same solemnity and sincerity. Her gaze was calm, and her tone was gentle yet unquestionable: "Thank you for the invitation, but I am engaged to Brandon Stark." After that, she said no more, and her quiet determination deterred other eager suitors.

Just then, Euron walked through the crowd and headed straight for Asara. Ignoring the curious, envious, or scrutinizing gazes around him, he stopped in front of her, bowed slightly, and then extended his hand—an invitation that could not be refused.

Under countless envious and inquisitive gazes, Asara smiled and gently placed her hand in Euron's. He held it firmly and led her to the center of the dazzling dance floor. Melodious music flowed like silk, and they danced gracefully, their figures swaying elegantly in the flickering candlelight. It was as if the entire grandeur of the hall had faded, leaving them as the clear focus, the most dazzling couple of the night.

This scene deeply agitated Robert in the stands. He gulped down a large mouthful of wine, slammed his glass heavily on the table, and, slightly drunk and defiant, shouted, "No way! I'm going to find my Lyanna too!" With that, he actually turned and left, leaving Ed alone without hesitation.

Eddard Stark watched his friend's departing figure, speechless for a moment, and could only stand there helplessly: "————"

It's lively here, but it feels out of place for me.

Brandon Stark had just finished dancing with his fiancée, Catelyn Tully. He walked over to his brother, nudged the stoic Eddard with his elbow, gestured toward a dazzling figure on the dance floor, and whispered, "Don't just stand there like an idiot. Look over there, Princess Arianne Martell of Dorne, a beautiful, fiery rose with thorns in the desert. Go and ask her to dance."

Ed looked in that direction, then slowly but firmly shook his head.

The princess was indeed stunningly beautiful, radiant like the summer sun, but she was too alluring and passionate, as if every glance of hers was an invitation, causing countless men to fall for her and yearn for something to happen between them.

She was indeed the most lively presence on the dance floor, with one dance partner after another, her laughter as clear and melodious as silver bells. However, this dazzling brilliance did not suit his calm and reserved personality.

Only Arianne herself knew that she had absolutely no interest in the men who were fawning over her. Her laughter might be loud, but a sense of detachment always lingered in her eyes. Her gaze would often drift unintentionally towards Ashara, who was dancing with Euron.

But those envious glances always vanished in an instant, quickly withdrawn.

Euron was already Ashara's fiancé, and their figures dancing side by side looked so harmonious and well-matched.

Arianne's fingertips unconsciously traced the rim of her wine glass, a barely perceptible sense of loneliness creeping into her heart. She seemed to have had her chance once, but now, everything was lost.

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