Game of Thrones: I am Dothraki, not a barbarian

Chapter 190 The Sea King's Will

Tolmo never expected that Lajalo would make such a request. He had only humbled himself to beg Lajalo for shares, but Lajalo insisted on giving up the business he had worked so hard to build over a lifetime. This was no different from taking his life.

However, he was now almost in a desperate situation and could only delay and look for a turning point. Thinking of this, he bowed deeply again, then left the hall, his steps unsteady, as if he had aged ten years overnight.

After the door closed, Leon turned to Lahallo: "You really would consider his request?"

Rahalo shook his head and sneered, "Of course not. The Iron Bank and we have a mortal enemy relationship. How could I possibly let them go?"

“We should be wary of their next move,” Leon said, frowning. “Father will never repent. Once he leaves here, his first thought will not be how to make amends, but how to take revenge.”

“You want me to kill him?” Rahalo asked.

As soon as he finished speaking, a struggle flashed in Leon's eyes. After all, he was his biological father. Severing ties was one thing, but watching his father get killed was another.

He couldn't be as heartless as his father, otherwise how would he be any different from his father?
Rahalo understood his thoughts, walked back to the window, and admired the view outside.

"Let him live. If he dies, your brother, that concubine's son, will be the one to benefit."

...

Braavos is always shrouded in a thin mist at night, and the lights shining through the mist are like stars fallen to earth.

Thormo's figure appeared particularly lonely in the mist.

He walked heavily on the road leading to the Sea King's Palace.

The humiliation in Pentos was like a needle piercing his heart, and every second it felt as if someone was repeating those unbearable words in his ear.

"Lord Thormo," a voice came from ahead. Thormo had unknowingly arrived at the entrance of the Sea King's Palace. The chief swordsman continued, "The Sea King has been waiting for you for a long time."

Just as Thormo was about to go in, he saw Besaro, the major shareholder of the Iron Treasury, coming out of the Sea King's Palace. The smile on his face gave Thormo a vague sense of foreboding.

“Lord Besaro,” Tormo composed himself, “I have just returned from Pentos and have not yet had a chance to report to the board.”

Frega sneered, "No need for a report. We already know how well you performed in Pentos."

Thormo's expression changed. "Who told you that?"

"Does it matter?" Besaro shrugged. "What matters is that the next board meeting will discuss confiscating your shares, and you know what the outcome will be. Sorry, there's nothing I can do to help you."

Thormo felt dizzy and finally couldn't hold back any longer, he exploded, "I've served the Iron Bank my whole life! You can't treat me like this!"

“Your wrong decision has caused us huge losses,” Besaro said helplessly. “Iron Treasury’s operations in Pentos and Kohol have all been disrupted, which is a loss of millions of gold dragons! The long-term losses are incalculable!”

Thormo clenched his fist, his nails digging into his palm: "I will make up for these losses. I will make sure that Lajalo agrees to restart the business relationship before the next board meeting."

Besaro clearly didn't believe his promise, and casually said, "I hope so, Lord Tormo," before turning and disappearing into the mist.

Thormo stood there, stunned, feeling an unprecedented surge of anger.

For years, his position at Ironbank had been rock solid; he never imagined he'd face such a predicament. And all of this was because of that damned Lahallo!

Braavos' chief swordsman stood silently to the side, his eyes fixed on the distance, seemingly oblivious to the minor dispute.

Only when Freya looked at him did he continue leading Freya toward the Sea King's Palace.

It was already late at night, but the illness of Sea King Ferego Antalion had blurred the lines between day and night in the palace. Attendants and servants came and went, and as one went further in, there were many physicians waiting at the entrance to the bedchamber. They recognized Thormo and nodded to him in greeting.

Aquaman's bedroom is located at the highest point of the palace, from where one can overlook the entire city of Braavos.

Two swordsmen opened the door for Thormo, and he went inside. The smell of herbs and excrement inside made him frown.

The person lying in bed is hardly recognizable as the once majestic Sea King.

Ferrego Antalion was once the most respected ruler of Braavos, but now he is nothing more than a shell ravaged by disease.

His eyes were sunken, his lips were cracked, and every breath he took was accompanied by painful gasps. Thormo could hear the sound of the bellows being pulled, as if Ferrego might take his last breath at any moment. "Lord Sea King," Thormo called softly, "it's me, Thormo."

Aquaman's eyelids twitched a few times, then he slowly opened his eyes, which were cloudy and unclear, as if covered by a layer of white mist.

“Thormo…” Aquaman’s voice was so weak it was almost inaudible, “You went to…Pentos?”

Thormo sat down on the edge of the bed and nodded. "Yes, sir. But it didn't work out. Lahalo refused my request." It was a white lie; how could he possibly reveal that he was giving up his shares?

Aquaman let out a soft sigh: "That... centaur... is difficult to deal with..."

“Sir,” Thormo leaned down and said urgently, “Besaro says the board wants to confiscate my shares. Can you help me? Just one word, just one word will do.”

Aquaman paused for a moment, then shook his head. "No. Besaro and the others came. I promised them I wouldn't help either side."

Thormo's heart sank to the bottom in an instant.

"My lord, I have dedicated my life to Braavos! You cannot abandon me!"

A hint of apology flashed in Neptune's eyes: "I can't do anything about it. But I have other plans..."

Thormo frowned and asked, "What plan?"

Aquaman gestured for him to come closer and said in an almost inaudible voice, "My heir has been chosen..."

Thormo was stunned, unable to believe his ears: "Me? Become Aquaman?"

Ferrego nodded slightly: "Compared to those politicians, you understand better what's in Braavos' best interest. Centaurs cannot be compromised."

Thormo's heart raced. Aquaman!

That meant that Braavos held supreme power far exceeding that of the Iron Bank's board of directors.

Although according to the tradition of Braavos, one can only choose between money and power, who says that with power one cannot have both?
He not only wanted to retain his shares, but also to take revenge on the board of directors, especially Besaro and others who had betrayed him.

Most importantly, he would be able to gather all of Braavos' military forces to deal with Lahallo!
but.

If we wait for Aquaman to die naturally, it could take several months. By then, he will probably have lost all say in the Iron Vault.

As Thormo looked at the dying old man before him and then around the empty palace, a terrible idea began to take shape in his mind.

If only Aquaman were dead right now!
“My lord, you need to rest,” Thormo said, getting up and picking up a soft feather pillow from the bedside table. “Let me help you adjust your sleeping position.”

Aquaman nodded weakly. He and Thormo were longtime friends and he was completely unprepared.

Thormo could even hear his own heartbeat. With trembling hands, he placed the pillow on Aquaman's face, then gritted his teeth and pressed it down hard.

Aquaman's body twitched involuntarily, but it was just an instinctive reaction and posed no threat whatsoever.

His fingers scratched at the sheets a few times, and his legs twisted, but the movements quickly became weaker and weaker.

Thormo remained expressionless, his arm motionless. "I'm sorry, Lord Ferrego," he said in a low voice, "but Braavos needs a strong leader who can stand against Lahallo. And I will be that person."

The final struggle also ceased.

Thormo maintained the position for a few more minutes to make sure the old Aquaman was completely dead before slowly removing the pillow.

Aquaman's face had an odd calmness, as if he were simply asleep.

Thormo carefully tidied the bed, making sure everything looked natural, then put the pillows back on the headboard and gently patted them to restore their original shape.

Next, he feigned a look of terror and rushed out of the room: "Doctor! Doctor! Lord Neptune is in bad shape!"

(End of this chapter)