Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 387 The Meaning of Leadership—Am I Beautiful?

On the deck, Alicia's sword flew out of her hand for the third time, landing with a clang three steps away.

She knelt on one knee, sweat streaming down her hair and staining the wooden deck with dark lines. Her training shirt was soaked through and clung to her back; every breath was hot, and her chest heaved violently.

Euron casually twirled his sword, deftly sheathing the unsharpened training sword at his side. He barely broke a sweat, his breathing as even as if he had just returned from a walk.

"Want to play again?" Euron asked, his tone revealing no hint of triumph over victory or defeat.

Alicia looked up, a bright and joyful smile blooming on her sweat-drenched face. The laughter, hoarse from the battle, rolled out of her throat, yet felt incredibly real.

"I'm not playing anymore," Alicia replied breathlessly, wiping the sweat from her chin. "If we keep going, we'll lose anyway. My bones are about to fall apart, and you haven't even gone all out yet."

She looked at Euron, her eyes showing no anger, but rather a gleam of ignited excitement. These three decisive defeats seemed not to be a disgrace, but rather the release of a heavy shackle from her heart.

The setting sun burned the clouds into a magnificent purplish-red, and the thousand-year-old dragon Halsien spread his giant wings, carrying the two across the shimmering sea.

A strong wind blew in our faces, and the space available for riding on the dragon's back was indeed cramped.

Euron had just settled into the dragon saddle and was still considering how to make the warrior queen, with whom he was riding for the first time, not too awkward—after all, for two people who were not familiar with each other, such a distance was rather inappropriate.

Before Euron could speak, Alicia behind him naturally leaned forward, her arms wrapping around his waist without hesitation, firmly gripping the edge of the dragon saddle in front of her. Her chest pressed against his back, her movements swift and decisive, without a trace of the coyness of an ordinary woman.

"Hold on tight," Alicia's voice came through the wind, clear and calm, "I don't want to fall off this big guy's back."

Euron paused for a moment, then a slight smile appeared on his lips. He had been overthinking it; the woman behind him was the warrior queen who ruled the island of women, not a delicate flower that needed to be carefully protected.

The thousand-year-old dragon Halsien soared smoothly beneath the twilight sky, its wings stirring the flowing clouds. The two sat on the dragon's saddle, the wind whistling in their ears, yet strangely creating a private space for conversation.

Euron recalled the anecdotes Oberyn Martell had mentioned many times and turned to ask, "I've heard that on the Isle of Women, there's a magical spring that any woman who drinks from it will give birth to a daughter?"

Alicia's voice came from behind him, with a knowing smile: "Whether it's true or not, just ask Prince Oberon, and you'll know." Her answer cleverly avoided direct confirmation, but implied that the rumors were not unfounded.

"Then," Euron pressed, always keenly interested in these ancient secrets, "where does this magical spring come from?"

"Its origins have been lost to time." Alicia's tone became distant as she recounted a legend etched into her blood, saying, "A thousand years ago, our ancestor Nymeria led a fleet of ships across the sea and discovered it when she first set foot on that island. The ancient saying is that it was a unique blessing bestowed upon our wandering people by the Mother River, Lorne."

Euron was silent for a moment, the sea breeze ruffling his hair. He changed the subject, touching on deeper layers of history: "Nymeria, the warrior queen of Rhoyna, once ruled the prosperous city-state of Nasa. So much time has passed, haven't you—never thought of going back?"

Alicia's answer was without hesitation, clear and firm: "No. We have lived on the Isle of Women for a thousand years, and this is our home. Besides," her voice revealed a pragmatic calm, "with our current population and strength, even if we went back, what difference would it make? That is a history that has been sealed for a thousand years. I will not risk the safety of all my people in pursuit of a false sense of past glory."

Euron turned his head slightly upon hearing this, a hint of genuine admiration flashing in his eyes. Gazing at the churning sea of ​​clouds on the horizon, he suddenly spoke: "If you ever have the chance, would you like to visit Na'Sa Star—the land that Nymeria once ruled?"

Alicia's breath hitched almost imperceptibly. She followed his gaze, as if trying to pierce through a thousand miles of clouds to see that homeland that existed only in epics and dreams. "Na Sa Star—" she repeated softly, as if tasting a strange and sweet fruit on her tongue, "I have never—been to such a faraway place before."

"The world is far more vast than the island beneath our feet," Euron's voice held a seductive quality like the ocean waves, "It's worth seeing for yourself."

Alicia slowly shook her head, the momentary daze fading from her eyes, leaving only a rock-solid clarity. "I understand," her voice was soft, yet as firm as a nail, "but I cannot. I am the Queen of Women's Island, and my duty is to protect my people."

Euron gazed at her wind-blown hair and her eyes, reflecting the glow of the sunset yet filled with unwavering resolve, and sighed deeply. In that sigh lay regret, understanding, and undisguised respect. "Alicia," he said solemnly, "you are a true leader."

Alicia gazed at Euron's silhouette, outlined by the sea breeze, and suddenly asked, "And what about you? Your roots are in the Iron Islands, your fiefdom is Harrenhal, your king is in Westeros. Yet you are always adrift at sea, or waging war everywhere. In your heart, what should a true leader look like?"

This was the first time someone had asked him such a question. Euron chuckled softly, the scales of the thousand-year-old dragon sending a cool sensation through his palm: "You seem to know me quite well."

The thousand-year-old dragon swept past a shattered cloud, gazing at the azure sea below, and slowly spoke: "Now that Robert, the new King of Westeros, has firmly secured the Iron Throne, peace reigns throughout the land. The merchant fleets of the Iron Islands will operate smoothly, and the maesters and craftsmen will take care of the reconstruction of Harrenhal." There was no regret in his voice, but rather a clear understanding. "Whether I am here or not, the waves of the Iron Islands will still crash against the shore, and the stones of Harrenhal will not be piled up any faster. I believe a true leader is one whose people can live normal lives whether you are here or not."

Alicia murmured, "It functions normally whether it's there or not. Will it work the same on Women's Island?"

"That's a question you need to think about." Euron turned his head, a shadow of the dragon wings flashing in his eyes, and laughed, "For me, it's better to let the golden sea monster flag fly farther than to let it rot at home."

Alicia chuckled softly, the wind carrying her words to his ears: "So you chose sailing, you chose endless conquest!"

"Conquer?" Euron raised an eyebrow slightly, glancing sideways at you with a hint of dangerous amusement in his eyes. "You've got some nerve. Aren't you afraid I'll really throw you off this cloud?"

"You won't," Alicia answered without hesitation, her arms still firmly wrapped around him. "There are many people in this world who think of you like this, but they just don't dare to say it. I merely said what they dared not say, and since you've done it, what's there to fear from what others say?"

Euron chuckled softly, the sound quickly dissipating in the howling wind. "Well said," he said, facing the churning clouds ahead, "if I really cared what others said, I wouldn't have set sail in the first place."

Alicia chuckled softly in the breeze: "You asked me three questions just now, now it's my turn." She tightened her arms around his waist slightly. "First, what is the purpose of your relentless conquest?"

Euron gazed at the horizon where the sea met the sky, and after a moment of silence spoke, his voice unusually calm: "To ensure that this sea—is forever free of war."

Alicia was speechless for a moment; this answer was completely unexpected.

"Just like Westeros today," he continued, his voice as calm as deep water, "a new king has ascended the throne, and the wars have ended. Commoners and nobles alike are able to thrive in peace."

Alicia pondered for a moment: "Then, the second question—if that day ever comes and all the coastlines are flying the flag of the golden sea monster, what will you do next?"

"Westward," he answered without hesitation. "I promised my three sisters on Lonely Lantern Island that we would explore the ends of the known world together. We would cross the Sea of ​​Sunset and search for a new continent."

"It seems you were born to never find harbor in any harbor," Alicia sighed, then changed the subject with a hint of slyness, "One last question—"

She suddenly leaned forward, her warm breath brushing against his ear: "Do you think I'm pretty?"

Euron, who was always quick-witted, fell silent for the first time. Only the wings of the thousand-year-old dragon continued to beat rhythmically against the clouds.

"Nass Island, we've arrived—"