Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

The longship cleaved through the grey-green waves, like an iron plow tearing through frozen soil, finally bringing the menacing towers of Pike City back into Euron Greyjoy's eyes.

The salty, cold sea breeze carried the familiar scents of home—damp rocks, decaying seaweed, and the lingering smell of war. The golden splendor of Lannister Harbor, the rich aroma of southern wine, and the whispers entwined with power and desire all seemed like a hazy, noisy dream.

The dream fades, revealing reality as the cold, hard foundation of the Iron Islands.

In the main hall of Pike City, the rugged stone walls, illuminated by roaring braziers and densely packed whale oil candlesticks, shed their daytime chill, revealing an almost wild warmth and bustle. The long table was once again piled high with roasted fish, blood pies, and large glasses of red wine; the atmosphere at the Greyjoy family's internal dinner was far more relaxed than when entertaining outsiders.

Euron sat at one side of the long table, slowly cutting a piece of seal meat. However, he soon became the focus of the banquet.

The marriage alliance between House Greyjoy and House Dayne, and between the Iron Islands and Starfall, Dorne—what this alliance will bring to the Iron Islands remains to be seen, but it is undoubtedly a major event, a matter of great importance to the entire Iron Islands. Euron, though the second son, is not to be underestimated in the Iron Islands. Arthur Dayne, with his reputation as "Sword of the Morning," is enough to command the attention of the Seven Kingdoms. Arthur Dayne is a member of Aerys II's Kingsguard; the Kingsguard do not hold land, do not marry, and do not have children, their loyalty is solely to their monarch. And as the eldest daughter, Ashara Dayne will be the future heir to Starfall.

Baron's voice was undisguisedly mocking, eliciting laughter from several distant relatives. "I heard that in the Lannisters' den, not only were your swordsmen amazing, taking down that little lion, but you also managed to get yourself a wife from Starfall? You're quick on your feet, nothing like your usual dawdling style. I heard she's a fair-skinned, purple-eyed, quite pretty woman, is that true?"

"Be civilized, Baron. She'll be your future sister-in-law!" Euron raised his eyes, glanced at his brother indifferently, and put a piece of meat into his mouth.

But this silence only fueled Baron's arrogance. He leaned forward, deliberately lowering his voice so everyone at the table could hear: "What? Did I hit the nail on the head? I heard Ashara Dayne is a delicate beauty, not some flower we Iron Islands can cultivate. You're quite the con artist, aren't you? Tell me, how did you manage to win her over? Did you learn those tricks from those southern bards, reciting sentimental poems to her?"

Euron didn't want to pay attention to this big fool and sighed, "How can you call a marriage alliance a scam! It's as if our Iron Islands are so inferior that we're not qualified to marry a noblewoman from one of the Seven Kingdoms!"

Father Corren Greyjoy sat in the head seat, his usually serious face unusually relaxed, a hint of amusement in his expression. He took a sip of his drink and joined the "siege": "Hmph, reciting poetry? If he could do that, even the God of Drowning would be laughing. I remember someone at a ball who almost slipped off his boots while inviting a lady, standing there stiff as a mast soaked in seawater."

A louder burst of laughter erupted from the table. Corren seemed intrigued and continued to spill the beans: "And, I heard that when he left the Lannisters and met with the young lady of House Dane, our fearless Ironblood straightened his collar three times outside the door, his voice tauter than a new sail? Isn't that right, Euron? His 'pretentiousness' back then was quite different from your current pathetic state."

The mother's reaction was quite different. Lady Sansa sat beside Coron, listening to her husband and eldest son's teasing, a satisfied and gratified smile on her face. She looked at Euron, her eyes softening, as if she were seeing that boy who had once been nervous and flustered. "Alright, alright, stop teasing him."

The mother finally spoke, her tone protective yet unable to conceal her joy, "Euron's settling down and finding a wife of such noble birth and virtuous character as Miss Ashara is a blessing from the Drowned God. Our Greyjoy family is about to welcome another member; what a joyous occasion!" She gently touched the corner of her eye with a handkerchief, as if she could already see her grandson surrounding her. "My little Euron, he's finally growing up to be someone's husband and father..."

She gently wiped her mouth, her gaze turning eagerly to Euron, her voice filled with impatient anticipation for her grandson: "Euron, my dear, now that the marriage is arranged, when exactly? Has anyone in Starfall City said when Miss Ashara will be able to marry into our family? We need a definite date so we can prepare as soon as possible."

Euron paused slightly as he cut the food, then resumed his normal pace: "It's still early, Mother. Ashara Dayne was born in 269 AC, and she's only eleven years old now. According to the Dayne family's wishes and the initial agreement, she will stay in Starfall City for the full three years to learn etiquette, history, and... how to become a proper housewife."

Lady Sansa's smile froze instantly, replaced by immense disappointment. She almost cried out, her fingers unconsciously clenching the hem of her dress. "Gods, does that mean we have to wait a full three years? This...this is too long!" Her gaze turned to her husband, Corren, with a hint of pleading. "Corren, can't we discuss this with the Dayne family again? Perhaps...two years? In two years, she'll be thirteen, almost of marriageable age, in our Iron Islands..."

"Shut-up woman!" Corren Greyjoy interrupted her impatiently, slamming his large hand heavily on the table, making the dishes rattle. His thick eyebrows furrowed, exuding the absolute authority of the head of the family. "The Dane family is an ancient and proud Dorne family, not just any captain's daughter from the Iron Islands! When we agreed to this marriage, we set a timeframe. Do you think you can change it so easily? Three years is three years, not a day less, not a day more! This matter is settled, so stop your nagging!"

Lady Sansa was intimidated by her husband's anger. Her lips trembled a few times, but she ultimately remained silent. She simply lowered her head in disappointment and sighed softly, as if she could already see her long-awaited grandson growing ever more distant.

Youlun listened silently to his parents' argument, expressionless as he put a piece of meat into his mouth and slowly chewed: Three years? He chuckled silently to himself, a laugh only he could hear, filled with a mockery and indifference incongruous with his age. Even if three years later, or another three years, I'd only be sixteen, she seventeen. I still think it's too early…

Thirteen or fourteen years old—in another world, this might just be the age of an innocent teenager. But here, in Westeros, on this continent where ice and fire intertwine, and power and survival reign supreme, this is the age at which noble marriages are most common.

In this world, love is a rare luxury, and marriage is a tool for consolidating alliances and passing on bloodlines. Making plans early is the best way to gain an advantage.

Euron wiped his mouth and finished his meal—this was the fate of the nobility. Early marriage, many children, weaving a web of power through offspring and in-laws.

Resistance? Pointless.

There's nothing we can do... that's just how the game is.