Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 234 Negotiation

The first day of negotiations began in the suspended council chamber overlooking the azure harbor in Silent Bay.

Euron Greyjoy did not personally engage in the battle; instead, Earl Paxter Redwyn acted as his representative, dealing with the three elegantly dressed but anxious representatives of the Third Daughter Alliance. Euron himself sat quietly in the main seat like a detached judge, his fingertips unconsciously tapping the armrest.

Throughout the morning, as representatives of the Three Daughters' Alliance—a silver-tongued banker from Rees and a shrewd governor from Tyrossi—took turns to present their arguments, defend themselves, and attempt to prove their innocence with flowery language and complex logic, Euron remained silent.

He simply listened, responding with an almost cold, prolonged silence.

The silence, like a gathering dark cloud, weighed heavily on the hearts of everyone present. It magnified every subtle hesitation, every uneasy exchange of glances, making carefully prepared words seem pale and laughable in the absolute silence. The delegates' speech quickened involuntarily, fine beads of sweat appeared on their foreheads, and even in their haste to defend themselves, slight inconsistencies appeared in their words. Euron's silence became the most effective tool of interrogation.

Proving something that has not been proven is an impossible task.

All the Three Daughters Alliance could offer were some weak and feeble "evidence." They even brought in a trembling witness to try to prove that General Gustave Drummond was on vacation in Rees during the crucial period when the so-called "orders were issued."

Earl Pexel Redwin maintained the elegant demeanor of an heir to the Green Pavilion, but his words were like poisoned needles. He shook his head slightly and pointed out incisively, "Where the general is is not important. Not on the Steps Isles? A mere raven can deliver the order precisely. That proves nothing."

He adhered to Euron's will, ignoring any offers of compensation, concessions, or cooperation from the other side, coldly and stubbornly repeating his core demand: "We only want evidence, irrefutable evidence that directly proves you have no connection to the raiding of the Ironborn caravan. Otherwise," he paused, his tone calm yet carrying an unmistakable threat, "we can only conclude that negotiations have broken down, and all that remains is war."

When the Reese banker finally couldn't contain himself any longer and presented with trembling hands a "treasured evidence" they had painstakingly fabricated at great expense—perhaps several forged official documents, or perhaps a confession from a bribed "pirate"—Euron, who was sitting upright, finally made a move.

Euron didn't even reach out to take it; he merely lowered his eyelids slightly and glanced casually at the expensive parchment with his beautiful eyes, as if it were an insignificant piece of trash.

He casually waved his hand, as if shooing away an annoying fly. The "evidence" that the other party regarded as a lifeline was picked up without any politeness by the Iron Clan guard standing to the side and casually thrown into a corner to be buried in the dust.

This action is more insulting and destructive than any angry rebuttal. It clearly declares: all your efforts, your so-called evidence, are worthless in my eyes.

As the negotiations entered their second day, the atmosphere became increasingly tense.

The representatives of the Three Daughters Alliance had run out of tricks; they could no longer produce any evidence that could truly prove their innocence in the looting. Thus, the talks turned into a desperate game of escalating pressure. They kept increasing the amount of compensation they demanded from Jinlong, attempting to pry open a path to survival with astonishing wealth; they racked their brains to fabricate more seemingly plausible but ultimately fragile "new evidence" and stories.

They offered seemingly tempting bargaining chips such as trade privileges and port benefits, attempting to steer the discussion from "whether or not there is guilt" to "how to compensate."

Lord Paxter Redwin, seated at the negotiating table, was now like a block of steel chilled by ice water, cold and hard. He scorned all the glittering golden dragons and fancy promises, reiterating in a tone filled with grief and absolute resolve: "Life is priceless! How can the blood and souls of the Iron Islands' people be measured by these cold golden dragons? We don't want money, we want justice!"

Seeing that the other party was still mired in the quagmire of self-interest, Parker's voice suddenly rose. He perfectly repeated Euron's will, his words like a drawn sword, instantly piercing through all the hypocritical performance: "We're not here to play this childish money game! You and I both know perfectly well that whether 'Bloody Hand' Marin's dying words were true or false is no longer important!"

His gaze was piercing, fixed on the other man's pale face: "The important thing is, who did we—Lord Euron Greyjoy—believe!"

He abruptly stood up, raised his arm, and pointed to the shimmering, yet deadly sea outside the window, issuing his final ultimatum: "My fleet, and my troll friends, are right outside. Accept reality; you may lose some gold and face."

His voice suddenly plummeted to freezing point, carrying an undeniable sense of destruction: "Refuse it? What you will lose is everything you have built up in these waters over decades—your ships, your trade routes, your outposts, and even your lives."

"The choice is yours."

He concluded with a calm yet weighty announcement: "You have only three days to make a decision. If you do not provide a satisfactory answer by then, it will be considered that you have chosen war."

The negotiations dragged on for two days in a suffocating silence.

On the third day, when the representatives of the Three Daughters Alliance were almost overwhelmed by uncertainty and fear, Euron Greyjoy finally spoke up himself.

His voice was calm, yet carried an undeniable authority, as he presented a series of pre-prepared conditions that were harsh to the point of being humiliating:

A massive indemnity: The three-city alliance is required to jointly pay one million gold dragons in damages for the crimes of "inciting pirates and murdering Ironborn." This figure is like a hammer blow, enough to turn even the wealthiest bankers pale and to drain the three cities of years' worth of trade surplus.

Fleet restrictions: The Three Cities Alliance is required to immediately reduce the size of its fleet stationed on the Stone Steps Islands by half, or hand over a corresponding number of its main warships to the Iron Islands for "safekeeping," ostensibly to "maintain maritime security."

Taxation and Pricing Power: Demand permanent access to 50% of the tax revenue from all ports in the Steppes Islands under the control of the Three Cities, and the right to intervene in the pricing of key commodities such as wine and silk traded through these ports.

Personnel surrender: The demand is for mid-level naval officers and administrative officials directly responsible for liaising with the pirates and carrying out so-called "orders" to be handed over as a necessary "price" to pay.

With each statement he made, it was as if a block of ice had been thrown into the room. The delegates' faces went from pale to deathly white, their breathing became rapid, and some even subconsciously loosened their tightly bound collars.

Fierce objections and near-desperate defenses attempted to rise, but were forcefully suppressed under Euron's cold, all-seeing gaze. He was like an anatomist, coldly observing the experimental subject's struggles under absolute disadvantage.

Just as the other side's psychological defenses were about to completely collapse, realizing that they had no choice but war, Euron's tone suddenly shifted, even taking on a hint of "mercy": "—However," he gently raised his hand, silencing all the commotion, "I am not an unreasonable person who only knows how to make demands. What I value is not temporary gains or losses, but the future of the Steppes—lasting peace and mutually beneficial cooperation."

After this prelude, he displayed the "victor's magnanimity": "To show my sincerity, I am willing to waive the two most demanding conditions." He seemed to be making a huge concession: "You can handle the personnel yourselves. As for the fleet, there's no need to cut it in half immediately."

However, his gaze suddenly sharpened, locking onto the core interests like an iron clamp: "But the one million gold dragon indemnity, and 50% of the port's tax revenue and pricing power, are the bottom line, and cannot be changed."

Finally, he issued an ultimatum, leaning back slightly to place immense pressure on the other party: "Today is the deadline for negotiations. Think it over carefully."

He paused, then added, "Use your reason, not your emotions."

The members of the Three Daughters' Alliance delegation were pale, exchanging terrified and desperate glances. Finally, the head governor responded with a dry, hoarse voice: "We—we need internal deliberation. Tonight—before tonight, we will give you a final answer."