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After much painstaking effort, Euron finally succeeded in recreating Dorne's legendary ultimate delicacy—Charcoal-Grilled Fire Dragon Pepper Scorpion. The unique, wild aroma, and the sincerity and effort behind it, finally lted the last bit of resentnt in Ashara's heart. She allowed Euron to take her hand once more, the rift between them healed, their relationship restored.
This newly ward tenderness did not last long before a ssage brought by the latest rchant ship to Dorne made Euron frown, a wave of displeasure rising in his heart.
It was said that the unfathomable Iron Bank of Braavos intended to provide massive financial support to House Redwyne of the Arbor. Their aim was to help develop a brand-new, top-tier red wine more competitive than ever, to rival the "Kraken Red" which was currently dominating the markets of the Free Cities with its unique taste.
This was undoubtedly a direct challenge from the capital forces of the Free Cities.
This kind of capital infiltration by the Iron Bank was not new.
Whether in Essos or Westeros, be it the proud glass craft of Myr, the priceless Tyroshi dye, or the exquisite handicrafts and luxury goods of Lys... wherever there was a profitable industry capable of market monopoly, the invisible yet ubiquitous hand of the Iron Bank could almost always be seen trying to intervene and eventually take control.
The one who sent this important ssage was Lord Paxter Redwyne, who had just returned to the Arbor. In his secret letter, he not only truthfully reported the Iron Bank's proposal but specifically ntioned his response at the ti: "I need to consider it."
This cautious reply made Euron smile as he read the letter. He understood that this was Paxter Redwyne showing goodwill, subtly stating his position: The Arbor valued its alliance with the Iron Islands more than the Iron Bank's Gold Dragons.
Euron accepted Paxter Redwyne's gesture.
After pondering for a mont, he penned a reply. His words were direct, decisive, and pragmatic: "Only a fool refuses free Gold Dragons. Take it first; agree to them."
However, behind this seemingly relaxed decision, Euron's feelings toward the Iron Bank were far more complex. Deep down, he felt both disgust and an irrepressible envy toward this Braavosi institution's ability to control the lifelines of nations and even sway succession with endless funds.
He knew the Iron Bank's modus operandi well: providing massive loans to the royal families of the Seven Kingdoms and various lords, trapping them in a quagmire of debt to control them firmly. Once a debtor nation defaulted, the Iron Bank would not hesitate to fund opposition forces within that country or even directly orchestrate the overthrow of the ruler. The new ruler, pressured by international rules and the need for stability, often had to acknowledge and inherit all previous debts. This thod of turning money into invisible shackles, manipulating the rise and fall of kingdoms like puppets, disgusted Euron, who advocated direct power and absolute control.
Yet, beyond disgust, he clearly recognized the terrifying effectiveness of this financial power. He longed to find a way to counter or even control this force, but it was like facing a bottomless fog; he had yet to find a clear breakthrough.
Euron knew the wisdom of "two heads are better than one." He did not act arbitrarily this ti but gathered Elia, Prince Doran, Oberyn, and Ashara to discuss the Iron Bank together.
When he ntioned coveting the Iron Bank's massive cash flow, Oberyn laughed first, his tone carrying the boldness and pragmatism unique to the Dornish. "If we could rob it, I'd have taken n to do it long ago! Would I leave you to ponder it here now?"
Prince Doran sat in his wheelchair, a calm smile of worldly wisdom on his face. He spoke slowly, his voice peaceful yet thought-provoking. "Since ancient tis, countless people have had thoughts like yours. The line of people envious of the Iron Bank's money could stretch from Braavos to Sunspear. But why has no one truly shaken it for so many years? Its foundation is far deeper than you imagine."
Ashara joined the discussion softly, sharing what she knew. "I heard that not only does the Iron Throne owe astronomical sums to the Iron Bank, but many great houses across the Seven Kingdoms are also heavily in debt. Yet strangely, I've never heard of anyone daring to borrow their money and not pay it back."
Listening to everyone's analysis, the fire in Euron's eyes did not retreat but burned brighter. He grinned, revealing a fierce smile mixing ambition and pirate nature. "Hmph, sooner or later, I'll let them know whose rules are harder. When that ti cos, follow for a big score," he looked around at everyone, his tone full of seductive power, "I guarantee every one of you will get your fill of profit!"
His words were too blunt and wild, causing Elia, who was drinking water, to cover her mouth and chuckle, shaking her head reproachfully. "Listen to your tone; you don't sound like a lord or noble at all, but clearly a pirate bandit planning a raid!"
This was but a small interlude in winter.
Winter had arrived, and harsh cold enveloped the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros.
Except for the southern Dorne, which still felt so warmth, from the Wall in the North to Lannisport in the West, from the Eyrie in the Vale to Storm's End in the Stormlands, vast lands were covered in thick ice and snow. Rivers froze, fields lay barren, a silence wrapped in silver.
In these freezing days, Quellon Greyjoy and his eldest son Balon, far away in the Iron Islands, received a letter sent via raven across the frozen sea. The letter was from Euron, the handwriting concise and powerful like the man himself, yet conveying a warm ssage enough to dispel the cold: "Father, Brother: My son Caesar has been born safely. Mother and child are well."
Information from all over the Seven Kingdoms gathered in Euron's hands like snowflakes through Lysa's secret channels, each carefully copied. Most territories were silent in the cold; nobles and commoners holed up in castles or huts, surviving on stored grain with little disturbance. However, two pieces of intelligence from King's Landing and the North caught Euron's attention particularly.
---
From King's Landing: It was snowing rarely in the capital, and a fragile layer of thin ice ford on the Blackwater Rush. However, colder than the weather were the hearts of the people. Due to food shortages, massive riots broke out among the poor in the Queen's District and Flea Bottom. The "Mad King" Aerys II's response was horrific—he ordered the arrest of over a dozen ringleaders in the square and used wildfire to burn them alive to intimidate all restless subjects.
Another matter was even more secretive: Crown Prince Rhaegar Targaryen did not stay in the Red Keep to appease the people. Instead, taking only his three most trusted Kingsguard—Ser Arthur Dayne "Sword of the Morning," Ser Oswell Whent, and Ser Gerold Hightower—he left King's Landing silently, his whereabouts extrely secretive.
From the North: Intelligence pointed to a more private connection—secret correspondence had been maintained between Lyanna Stark and Prince Rhaegar.
Combining these two pieces of news, Euron tapped his fingers lightly on the table, a glint of understanding flashing in his eyes. He was almost certain that Rhaegar's secret departure from the capital was not for official business; his destination was highly likely the North. The Dragon Prince, famous for lancholy and music, was probably braving the snow to secretly et his "She-Wolf" up north.
After analyzing the intelligence, Euron's brows suddenly furrowed tightly. He abruptly rembered a crucial matter temporarily shelved by nurous affairs—the divorce from Elia that Rhaegar Targaryen had solemnly promised. Half a year had passed, yet there was still no news, no substantive progress whatsoever.
He moved imdiately, finding Elia and Prince Doran, and gravely inford them of his latest findings. "Rhaegar has likely secretly gone to the North by now, probably to et the Stark daughter. But regarding the divorce he promised back then, there hasn't been a single word. It seems he has long thrown this matter to the back of his mind."
Hearing this, a cold light flashed in Prince Doran's worldly eyes. He nodded calmly, instantly understanding Euron's unspoken implication and the stance Dorne should take at this mont.
"I understand what you an," Prince Doran's voice was steady and decisive. "Since he does not actively fulfill his promise and disregards the dignity of my Dornish princess, then we shall end this matter ourselves. In the na of Sunspear, I will officially send letters to all major castles and nobles across the Seven Kingdoms, announcing it to the world."
Soon, an announcent with rigorous wording, stamped with the sigil of the Prince of Dorne, was copied multiple tis and carried by ravens to all parts. The announcent clearly stated:
> "Announcent Regarding the Dissolution of the Marital Relationship Between Elia Martell and Rhaegar Targaryen."
> "The two parties entered into a legal marriage in the Great Sept of Baelor in King's Landing on Midsumr's Day, 278 AC, witnessed by the Seven."
> "However, following the Tourney at Harrenhal, as both Princess Elia Martell and Prince Rhaegar Targaryen have no intention to continue maintaining this marital relationship, by mutual consent, this marital bond is hereby formally dissolved."
> "Custody of the legitimate issue of the marriage, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, following the dissolution of the marriage, shall belong to her mother, Princess Elia Martell."
> "Premarital properties shall return to their respective owners, with no joint debts or financial disputes. All settlents have been completed."
> "This is hereby announced to all of Westeros. From the date of this announcent, both parties are free to marry, unrelated to each other, and neither party may claim rights based on this marital relationship."
Ravens bearing Dorne's announcent flew high, scattering like ssengers across the Seven Kingdoms, rapidly spreading the news of Elia and Rhaegar's divorce to every corner of Westeros.
This announcent caused an uproar in the noble circles of the Seven Kingdoms. Most regarded it as a colossal joke.
By warm fireplaces and at banquets, nobles raised their wine cups, savoring this royal scandal with relish, laughing with undisguised mockery.
The face of the Targaryen royal family had beco a laughingstock to accompany everyone's als.
In the Red Keep of King's Landing, "Mad King" Aerys II flew into a rage upon hearing the news, considering it a public provocation and insult to royal authority by Dorne. He roared, the burning wildfire seeming to flicker in his eyes.
Yet beneath the fury lay a trace of powerlessness—even his Targaryen ancestors with dragons had never truly conquered Dorne, let alone him, now isolated and increasingly mad. In the end, he could only swallow this rage forcefully.
Conversely, far in the North at Winterfell, the faces of House Stark turned iron-green upon seeing this announcent. Although their daughter Lyanna's na did not appear directly, she was undoubtedly dragged into the center of this storm. The paper seed to shine a blinding spotlight on them, bringing imnse embarrassnt and pressure to the entire family.
Prince Rhaegar and Lyanna Stark, rumored to be in the North, felt a mix of myriad emotions when they finally saw the contents of the letter. The love they pursued was now laid bare before the world by a cold announcent.
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