Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 206 Return to the Iron Islands

The next morning, before the sea fog had completely dissipated, Euron came to Asara's door to say goodbye.

Asara had long anticipated the impending separation, but when the moment truly arrived, tears of reluctance still welled in her eyes. She forced back her emotions and straightened Euron's clothes, her fingertips lingering on the rough fabric for a long time.

Before leaving, Euron summoned his bodyguard, Victoria Daniels, known for her ruthlessness. This assassin, renowned for her composure and lethality, was not happy to hear that Euron wanted to leave her in Dorne. The thought of her annoying brother being there made her want to refuse.

"You will remain in Dorne," Euron's voice was low and resolute, "to stay with Princess Elia and Ashara. Your task is to ensure their safety—to guard against possible poisoning and to be vigilant against any possible assassination attempts." He gazed into Victoria's sharp eyes. "Every three days, send a raven to report to me on her condition. This is more important than any battle."

When Victoria heard that she would be staying with Princess Elijah, her stern expression softened. She genuinely admired the Dorne princess—her unpretentious and approachable manner, her delicate, porcelain-doll-like face, and her always comforting, gentle smile. Even more remarkable was Elijah's patient listening to others, her eyes always filled with sincere understanding; to Victoria, accustomed to solitude and vigilance, this was like an unexpected ray of sunshine.

Despite a voice deep inside her reminding her that as an assassin, she shouldn't harbor any affection for anyone—for fear that such feelings would become a fatal weakness if the other person later became her target—Victoria chose to ignore this voice. After all, since her failed assassination attempt on Euron and subsequent capture, she was no longer a "woman of regret."

She immediately nodded solemnly, keenly sensing the importance Euron attached to this matter. This task was far more than just ordinary guard duty; it carried the unspoken concerns and weighty promises of her master.

Elijah did not refuse Euron's arrangement. She gently took Victoria's hand and stood on the dock, waving goodbye to the receding ship. Arianne, Asara, and Oberyn also stood on the shore, but their expressions varied—Asara waved her scarf incessantly, her eyes filled with reluctance; Arianne crossed her arms, her gaze indifferent; while Oberyn simply stood quietly, his face deep and unfathomable.

Euron, standing at the bow of the ship, also looked back into the distance, his fingers unconsciously tracing the fresh gunshot wound on his cheek. He couldn't help but grit his teeth and gasp – it was the "parting gift" Oberyn had given him the night before.

Recalling the events of last night, Euron couldn't help but smile bitterly.

Oberyn arrived carrying a spear and bluntly stated, "Have a spar with me. But you're not allowed to fight back; just stand there and let me hit you."

Euron was taken aback: "What kind of competition is this?"

"This isn't a contest," Oberyn's spear tip gleamed coldly in the moonlight, "it's for me to beat you up and vent my anger! Otherwise, I'm afraid I'll suffocate."

Euron, who was in the wrong, had no choice but to agree and received a thorough beating. Strangely enough, after Oberyn finished venting his anger, he actually calmed down and even took out Dornish wine, a specialty of Dorne, and drank with Euron under the stars until late at night.

Looking at the figure on the shore who had beaten him up last night but came to see him off this morning, Youlun rubbed his still aching wounds, a helpless yet knowing smile appearing on his lips.

The ship cleaved through the grey-green waves, leaving a white trail on the vast sea. Euron stood alone at the bow, the sea wind whipping his robes. Deep down, he secretly hoped the Mad King would send a fleet to pursue them—giving him the chance to channel his pent-up frustration into battle, to vent it all on this sea that belonged to him.

In fact, Euron was also filled with resentment. He never expected to find himself in such a situation, but since it had already happened, it was like an arrow shot and there was no turning back.

As someone accustomed to being in control, this feeling of being out of control made Euron extremely irritable. He stared at the undulating sea in the distance, his fingers unconsciously stroking the hilt of his sword.

If a few foolish ships showed up, I could slaughter them all, wouldn't that be wonderful?

Unfortunately, things didn't go as planned. The voyage was unusually calm for several days, and not a single suspicious vessel appeared.

The waves lapped rhythmically against the hull, and the seagulls' leisurely cries accompanied the voyage; it was as if the whole world had chosen to fall silent at this moment.

Finally, the ship sailed safely into the Iron Islands waters. The familiar, rugged coastline gradually came into view, and under the gloomy gray sky, the silhouette of Pike City stood tall, as if it had always been waiting for the return of those who had sailed far away.

As soon as the ship docked, Euron strode straight toward the council chambers of Pyke City. The sea breeze still wafted through his robes, carrying the salty and biting chill characteristic of the Iron Islands.

Inside the council chamber, King Corren Greyjoy sat regally on the Seastone throne, aged yet still imposing; standing beside him were the menacing-looking Baron and the sharp-eyed Victarion. Even his usually reclusive mother was present. They had clearly been waiting for some time, and a tense yet urgent atmosphere permeated the entire hall.

Since the tournament at Harrenhal concluded, news has been pouring in from all over the Seven Kingdoms like a boiling cauldron: some say the Mad King publicly humiliated Lord Tywin, others say Prince Rhaegar openly insulted Princess Dorne, and still others say that undercurrents are stirring in the Vale, the North, and the Stormlands—every raven brings new rumors, and every merchant ship brings new variables.

Euron's gaze swept over each of his relatives present, a meaningful smile curving his lips: "It seems I've missed quite a few fascinating stories."

King Coron raised his aged yet sharp eyes and nodded slightly to the travel-worn Euron: "You've returned just in time. Have a seat." His voice was as deep as waves crashing against rocks, yet it carried an undeniable authority.

Since Nalisa slept with Euron, the entire Greyjoy family viewed her differently. She was tacitly considered Euron's woman, a change in status that earned her unprecedented trust and respect in Pyke City.

At this moment, Lisa was responsible for reporting intelligence to the core members of the family.

She knew that the information gathered from all over the seven kingdoms was a mixture of truth and falsehood. Some were overt movements, while others were undercover transactions; some were shrouded in mystery, making it difficult to discern their authenticity, and some were simply rumors deliberately spread by various parties. She analyzed the source and credibility of each piece of information one by one, pausing occasionally to allow everyone to ask questions, and sometimes adding her own judgment.

The flames in the fireplace danced on her face, reflecting her focused expression. Every word was carefully chosen, every message carried the weight of the political changes in the seven nations.