In the days that followed, Luke had expected a period of peaceful leisure.
His plan was perfect: train the soldiers every day, visit the incubation chamber to play with those three chubby little ones in his spiritual world, travel back and forth between the two worlds to rule his domain, and in passing enjoy the fragrant, soft ocean horses in a life of utter luxury and debauchery.
Keep the music playing. Keep the dancing going… endless fucking!
What a perfect life.
Yet all these plans were thrown into chaos by an endless stream of visitors.
Every day all kinds of people ca knocking—rchants from every corner of the world seeking exclusive rights to his magical goods, minor lords from the surrounding lands hoping to curry favor.
Luke found them endlessly annoying and pushed almost all of them onto his "Grand Steward" Arthur to handle.
Arthur was skilled at dealing with these situations; Luke had paid him a fortune precisely so the man could work like an ox for him!
But in the following days, the visitors who arrived were no longer the kind Arthur could manage.
After all, the ground at White Ridge Pass was still thick with the stench of blood.
Even though the news of the "Hand's death" and the "King marching north" had dominated the headlines and topped every "trending list"!
The south shore of the God's Eye remained the most talked-about place in all of Westeros… A re rchant who only knew how to talk big had, against overwhelming odds, completely annihilated a coalition of more than a dozen noble houses.
Such a feat had not been seen in seven hundred years!
Luke chose to receive these "important guests" in the great hall of the castle at White Stone Town.
The first to arrive was the envoy from Riverrun.
A banner of red and blue fish rippled in the wind.
"The greatest archer in the Riverlands"—Ser Edmure Tully—rode a chestnut horse, followed by twenty fully ard knights and a maester in black robes.
He was young, with a gentle face, but he had deliberately tightened his jaw in an attempt to look imposing. Unfortunately his blue eyes betrayed him; they were filled with unease.
Luke couldn't help rembering this guy's famous codic scene: at his father's funeral, the "Three-Rivers Arrow God" had nearly turned the solemn occasion into roaring laughter, and it was only the Blackfish who had stepped in to stop the whole funeral from becoming a joke.
Luke received him in the castle's great hall.
The fireplace blazed brightly, casting its glow across Edmure's young face.
"My lord," Edmure began stiffly, "permit first, in the na of Riverrun, to express… astonishnt at your military victory."
He paused, carefully choosing his next words.
"Lord Harroway was my father's vassal. This matter has placed House Tully in a very awkward position. My father, Lord Hoster, sent here to ask one very simple question: what exactly do you intend to do?"
Luke leaned back in his chair and said nothing.
Edmure pressed on, steeling himself. "Lord Harroway certainly committed wrongs… from what I understand… you essentially uprooted his entire house. More than a dozen families now lack leadership, and a powerful new force has appeared in the heart of the Riverlands. Can you understand my father's concern?"
He leaned forward. "There is one more thing I must clarify. So say you used a form of magic in battle and instantly slaughtered over a hundred coalition soldiers. My father requires an explanation so he may answer to the other lords. What exactly happened?"
Luke's eyes narrowed slightly.
It was a very dangerous look.
He spoke slowly and deliberately: "Whoever offends House Jaqenion, no matter how far, must be slain. No rcy, no end."
"And I did not exterminate them to the last man. That was already an enormous rcy. What more do they want? What more does House Tully want?"
Edmure's face changed.
"Lord Harroway is a vassal of House Tully. I did not hold House Tully accountable; that was already courteous enough." Luke's voice grew cold. "The armor and weapons of House Jaqenion will never bend to anyone!"
Edmure was startled by the hard tone and nearly lost his composure.
Still, he tried to maintain Riverrun's dignity. "I have been instructed to offer you a solution. House Tully is willing to diate. Return part of House Harroway's lands and release the captive knights. In return, we will ensure the other houses do not unite to take revenge against you. You need House Tully's friendship, my lord. In the Riverlands, no one can survive alone."
Luke did not reply. He simply picked up his wine cup and took a sip.
His attitude could not have been clearer: see the guest out.
Nevertheless, Arthur still explained to Edmure Tully the surrender agreent House Jaqenion had reached with the defeated lords.
Less than two days after the Riverrun envoy left, the banners of the Twins appeared outside White Stone Town.
Beneath green-and-white twin-tower flags, rrett Frey rode slowly forward with a small party.
He was Walder Frey's ninth son, in his forties, lean, and possessed the classic Frey face: thin lips, small eyes, and an expression that always seed to be calculating profit.
He brought few attendants, but every one of them carried heavy chests.
"Most honored lord!"
The mont rrett entered he bowed deeply, every courtesy flawless. "My father, Lord Walder Frey, sends his most sincere greetings! On behalf of the Twins, allow to offer the warst congratulations on your glorious victory by the shores of the God's Eye!"
He bowed slightly as he spoke, but his eyes never stopped studying Luke's expression.
"To be honest, that old bastard Harroway has long needed soone to teach him a lesson. Relying on House Tully's protection, he lorded it over the Riverlands. Your battle was magnificent! The entire Riverlands is talking about your na."
Luke gave a faint smile. Although he held no fondness for House Frey—who among those who had watched Ga of Thrones could like Walder Frey?—he still wouldn't strike a smiling face.
"Convey my sincere respects to the lord."
rrett's eyes brightened and he moved straight to business.
"My father often says that in Westeros courage alone is not enough—you also need allies. You have carved out this foundation single-handedly, but now you need to hold it. And what is the best way to hold a foundation?"
He took a step forward and flashed what he clearly thought was a friendly smile.
"Marriage!"
"My father has daughters, granddaughters, and widowed daughters-in-law of every age and appearance. Choose any one you like. If you are willing to marry a Frey girl, the Twins' crossing will forever be open to you, and one thousand Frey soldiers will be ready to fight for you at any ti!"
He paused, then added, "Of course, if you are already married or not inclined to take a wife at present, my father said one of his sons or grandsons could marry your sister, your daughter, or even a distant cousin. The important thing… is that we beco family."
Finally he lowered his voice.
"Don't trust House Tully too much. They speak of diation, but they are really only thinking about how to bring you into their system. House Frey is different. We talk real interests. Will you consider it?"
Luke lifted his wine cup, hiding the cold smile at the corner of his mouth.
Marriage alliance?
A noble Celestial Dragon needed political marriage?
It would be more like them obediently sending their daughters to curry favor.
Marriage? Dream on.
That said… old Walder Frey might be a despicable piece of shit, but he really did have so good-looking daughters—the girl who had caught Edmure Tully's eye and made Robb Stark do a double-take was truly stunning!
"Convey my thanks to the lord for his kind offer," Luke said, setting down the cup. "However, my marriage is not sothing I am in a hurry about."
rrett's smile froze for a split second, but he quickly recovered. "No rush, no rush—marriage is a serious matter and must be considered carefully. Then… what about business cooperation?"
"Business we can discuss." Luke nodded. "Arthur will receive you."
--------------------------
Support us on P@tre0n and gain access to 100 chapters in advance!
[email protected]/inkshield
User Comments
0 comments from readers