Ice and Fire: Reign of the Dragon.

Chapter 397: Flattery of Braavos

In the throne room of King's Landing, candlelight flickered, casting the hideous reflection of the Iron Throne on the stone wall. Daeron II sat in the throne, tapping the hilt of the Greenhand King's sword on the armrest with his fingertips, not out of anxiety, but a kind of almost cold patience. Prime Minister Ringol Varese sat on the obsidian throne beside him, and the silver dragon laurel leaf emblem glowed coldly in the candlelight, like a sharp sword hanging in the air.

The air held still as the emissary from Braavos entered the hall.

He was wearing a dark blue velvet cape, a tall pointed hat, and a Titan emblem on his chest. He walked with a steady pace, like a general rather than an envoy. Behind him, two followers dressed as faceless men stood silently, their faces blurred under their hoods.

"Your Majesty." The messenger bowed, his voice as smooth as a sharpened blade. "The Iron Bank sends you greetings."

Darren nodded slightly, but his eyes passed the messenger and fell on Lingol's face. An imperceptible light flashed in the Prime Minister's eyes.

Silver dragons are far more sensitive to news than red dragons. Their spies have already heard obscure news that the political situation in Volantis has changed dramatically. People have begun to flee in their family's former territory. The Tiger Party has secretly dispatched troops into the city of Volantis, and with the help of the Blackwall nobles, they brazenly launched a coup even after the Elephant Party knew about it and had already requested support from the surrounding city-states.

The most shocking thing is that these guys actually succeeded. Except for the Parliament Palace, Volantis and its affiliated towns were completely controlled by the Tiger Cloak Army infiltrated by the Tiger Party. The political situation in Volantis changed abruptly.

"What news has been brought from Braavos?" the king asked.

The messenger pulled a roll of parchment from his sleeve, with the mark of the Titans on the wax seal.

"The Free Cities have reached a consensus - the Tiger Party in Volantis must be ended. This is also in the interests of your country." He unfolded the scroll, his voice slightly flattering. "Braavos, Lys, Myr, Norvos, and Qohor will join forces, and we need dragons."

The hall was dead silent.

"Braavos wants to use my dragon fire to burn away Volantis' ambitions?"

"No, sir. We want to use your dragon fire to burn out a new order."

Lingol walked down the steps slowly, the dragon-headed scepter knocking against the stone slabs with a crisp sound. He took the parchment scroll and gently stroked the paper with his fingertips, as if he could touch the meaning behind the words.

"Norvos has never been fond of getting involved in disputes, and Qohor has always been at odds with your kingdom." He said calmly, his eyes piercing the messenger like a Valyrian steel sword. "What made them change their minds?"

The messenger smiled, a smile as precise and cold as the account book in the Iron Bank.

"The priests of Norvos suddenly received an oracle from the nameless god they worshipped," he said softly. "And the alchemists of Qohor found that their stock of materials was inexplicably damp, and the Dothraki khalasar responsible for transporting slaves to them was swallowed up by another khalasar."

The threat is self-evident.

"As for Lys and Myr," the messenger continued, his tone softening, "they are your dogs, and dogs will not stand for their masters' interests to be harmed."

Lys is the dog of the Iron Throne, and Myr is not much different. After Tyrosh took the surname Vareses, the third daughter had only one way left.

Daeron II's fingers tightened on the throne.

"How many dragons do you want?"

The messenger raised his eyes and looked humbly at the Prime Minister and the King.

"Five items."

The hall was in an uproar. The ministers were talking to each other. The Minister of the Navy even stood up suddenly, but Lingol gave him a glare and sent him back to his seat. "Five dragons, flatten the black wall of Volantis."

The envoy knelt on one knee, his dark blue cloak spreading like waves on the stone steps of the Red Castle. This action made everyone in the noisy hall hold their breath. The envoys of Braavos never kneel to any monarch, because gold is higher than royal power.

But dragon flame is superior to gold.

The messenger remained kneeling on one knee, his forehead pressed tightly against his knee. His posture was so humble that it was almost pious, as if he was not petitioning the monarch but praying to the statue in the temple.

"Your Majesty." His voice was low and restrained. "The Iron Bank is willing to exchange the permanent concession of the port of Volantis for the post-war rights. We beg the Iron Throne to send dragons to help us in the war, just as the Conqueror made a holy alliance with us two hundred years ago."

Ringol gently stroked the edge of the Silver Dragon Laurel Leaf emblem, and a barely visible arc appeared on the corner of his mouth. "Port concession?" His voice was as smooth as silk. "There are many ports in Essos that fly the Silver Dragon Laurel Leaf and the Three-Headed Red Dragon flags. Do you think we are short of docks, envoy?"

The messenger bowed his head, but his knuckles were slightly white. "And Volantis' monopoly on trade with Slaver's Bay?"

The Prime Minister chuckled, and the candlelight in the meeting room trembled. He walked slowly to the window, and the dragon head scepter struck the marble slab with a crisp sound. Outside the window, dozens of merchant ships flying the silver dragon laurel leaf flag were anchored in the port of King's Landing, and the masts were as dense as a forest.

"Mr. Envoy," Ringol said with his back to him, his voice filled with cold joy, "The merchant fleet of House Vareses is larger than that of Braavos. Do you think we lack the right to trade?"

The messenger finally raised his head, a hint of imperfection flashing in his eyes. He took a deep breath and lowered his voice: "The Iron Bank is willing to provide a loan of 13 million pure gold royals to your Majesty's court, with the interest halved."

Lingol finally turned around, his silver-gray eyes as sharp as a knife. "The interest rate is halved?" He tilted his head slightly, as if he had heard some funny joke. "How about this——"

He walked slowly back to the messenger and looked down at him condescendingly.

"First, Braavos opens all free trade ports to the Iron Throne and the lords authorized by the Iron Throne, and exempts them from tariffs."

"Second, the Iron Bank will provide the royal family with an interest-free loan of 15 million pure gold dragons for a period of 90 years."

"Third, Qohor must hand over the smelting technology of Valyrian steel. I believe Braavos can do it."

The messenger's face turned pale instantly. Each of these three conditions directly hit the core interests of Braavos, and even forced Braavos to make sacrifices - the free trade port was the lifeblood of the Iron Bank, interest-free loans would shake its financial hegemony, and the Valyrian steel technology was a secret that Qohor would never pass on. If Qohor wanted to share it, he would either have to make Qohor suffer so much that he had to share it, or he would have to pay the same price.

Qohor did not have the technology to manufacture Valyrian steel, but they had the mature technology to reforge Valyrian steel - a technology that Braavos also had, and at a lower cost.

So Ringol's real intention was to ask Braavos to hand over the technology hidden in the Iron Bank.
"Sir..." His voice was almost squeezed out from between his teeth, "This..."

"Or," Daeron II suddenly spoke, the shadow on the throne pressing down like a mountain, "you can continue to keep your technology and ports and wait for the Volantis Tiger Party fleet and 500,000 Tiger Cloaks to arrive at the Titans' crotch, and then consider our terms."

There was deathly silence in the meeting room.

The messenger slowly closed his eyes, as if he was weighing the final chips. Finally, he bowed deeply and knocked his forehead heavily on the stone slab.

"As you wish...Dragon King."

(End of this chapter)