The Eminence in GOT-Chapter 27: Family Reunification

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***

279 A.D.

Witch farm.

«You little rascal! Come here! - The speed with which the woman's steel-like fingers closed around my ear made me suspect my mother had a secret military past.

«Aaaaaaah, Mom! Please stop! It's good to see you too! I'm old enough to have my ears pulled! Mommy, please stop it! You're gonna rip my ear off! - It didn't work. Despite all my cries and pleas, the two-finger pincers didn't even think of loosening their grip on my long-suffering ear.

«Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh. So you're an adult? Old enough to send one letter in eight years?! Old enough to have visited your family at least three times and never left Lannisport?! Old enough to even start writing proper letters when he became Lord?! - Seeing how my father, who had aged a little over the years, and my older brother, who had grown and matured over the years and had already taken the reins of the family, cowered in the farthest corner of the house, I realized that I wasn't the only one who was scared shitless by this fury that had mistakenly taken over my mother's body. And the torture continued. - I was worried about you, you brainless asshole. I checked with the merchants in Lannisport about your every voyage! I even enlisted your grandfather's help to bring me the news! And you!

«Mom, put the frying pan down! - I naturally panicked, remembering what a deadly weapon this kitchen utensil becomes in her delicate hands. - Dad, help!

«You do it yourself! - The two traitors shouted at the same time, fleeing into the next room, afraid of getting caught in the hot hand.

"I thought, as I twisted my ear out of the grip and avoided the meeting between my face and the hard cast-iron surface.

The morning after Barristan and I had successfully freed the king, realizing that his song was over, Denys Darklin opened the gates of the city and surrendered to the besieging army.

Aerys, who had slept his allotted eight hours, immediately upon awakening and coming to his senses, ordered that the Darklins be delivered to him in chains. The sight of several dozen shackled men, women, children, and old men in rags being led through a line of soldiers who laughed at them and almost openly stoned them was not an attractive sight. And when the king ordered the execution of all the Darklins, not just Denys and his Serala, who had encouraged her husband to rebel, my mood sank into tatters.

Denis was quartered, chopping off a piece of his body piece by piece with a blunt axe. Serala was given the cruelest execution of all - her tongue and genitals, with which she had "enslaved her lord," were ripped out, then burned alive in the Wildfire. Their children, a small boy of seven and a younger girl, despite the pleas of Prince Rhaegar, Barristan and mine, were let to feed long-neglected dogs, their parents revealed. Other members of their kind met an equally cruel fate - the torture of the red dragon.

This construct was a copper sculpture with a void inside, made in the shape of a three-headed dragon. Made to a third of the natural size of an adult, this statue was hollow inside and had a small door between the wings. Inside it, Aerys would close one Darklin at a time, and beneath its belly he would light a giant fire, pouring Wildfire generously into it. The people there were simply roasted to a state of stewed meat, in incredible pain. But the most monstrous thing was that a special pipe was installed in the dragon's nose. When a man inside the statue screamed in pain, his screams passed through this device and turned into a loud dragon roar, according to the king, indistinguishable from a real dragon. And the louder the red dragon roared, the louder the man inside screamed and the king outside screamed in ecstasy.

I can only say one thing - I did not have the strength to endure such a spectacle, neither morally nor physically (especially when one of the merciful ones who asked for mercy for the old men and children was simply executed). So I, with Prince Rhaegar for company, went on a three-day bender until all the Darklings were killed. Of course, if it had been up to me, I would have gotten away long ago, but the psychopathic king's orders were clear: wait until he dealt with the rebels and wait for the reward.

The Hollards, vassals and chief aides of the Darklins, suffered as well. Their clan was stripped of all ranks and lands, and most of their men were executed. The steward of the Darklins, John Hollard was married to Lord Denys' sister and was stuffed into a red dragon along with his wife and young son. Squire Robin Hollard died under torture on the rack right in the camp. The only survivor was a three-year-old boy named Dontos Hollard, son of Steffan Hollard, the twin brother of Simon Hollard, who had been slain by Ser Barristan, who had vouched for the boy. I took him in, promising to take care of him and make him a career as a good knight, instead of Selmy's offer to take him to King's Landing and raise him as a court knight.

"Yeah, right," I thought then, telling one of the Highlanders to take the sobbing boy to the ship. - "They'll beat him physically and mentally at court, turning him into either a weakling or a drunkard."

Still, fallen lords are more despised in this world than bastards.

Barristan had an interesting story to tell: after slaughtering Simon and six other guards, he mounted his horse and came after me, but was attacked by one of the patrols snooping around the city in search of the king. He slaughtered the attackers, of course, but was wounded himself, falling into one of the city's many ditches, where my foresters found him. They carried him to Old Bogoroscha, where they dressed his wounds and the next day carried him to the camp, where the maester took care of him.

After the execution and sacking of the Darklyn and Hollard lands, there followed a general return to King's Harbor, to reward the heroes and punish the unwanted.

Turned into one of the most controversial moments of my life.

In fact, the Twilight's Dome Rising, as it had been dubbed, gave me only three things: publicity in the Seven Kingdoms as the king's savior, a personal hatred of Aerys II Targaryen, and a knighthood from Barristan Selmy himself.

And while the first was quite natural, the third moment happened because of the second. When Barristan and I were called to the award ceremony, where the king wanted to personally give us awards for his rescue, I didn't expect much - money is not given in such a case, I don't need any land in the royal lands, but some hereditary title or trading privilege would be very useful to me.

But when this scum said, "Let me keep all the misappropriated Valyrian steel," not only me, but all the people present at that moment in the throne room of the Red Castle were stunned. To my perplexed look, he only condescendingly explained that all Valyrian steel in the world belongs to the dragons of Valyria, and he is the last of the dragons. Meaning that all Valyrian steel belonged to him. It was hard for me not to ask him about the Valyrian swords of the other noble houses, or to tell him to ***, but I held back.

I left the throne room burning with inner rage, with a keen desire to stab someone. It was only on the way out of the castle, in the Leaning Tower, that Ser Barristan caught up with me and, apologizing for his monarch (at which point my desire to crush Aerys' face with my fist only grew stronger), offered me an alternative.

For my heroism and bravery in saving the king, he wanted to knight me tomorrow on the steps of Baelor's sept, in the presence of the entire Kingsguard.

Such offers are not to be refused.

So I had to endure all-night prayer in the sept from dusk till dawn. The heavenly patron saint of knights is one of the seven hypostases of God, the Warrior, and I had to pretend to pray to him all night on my knees, folding my sword and armor at his image, wearing only one white shirt of undyed wool. It was freezing cold, but according to the beliefs it symbolized my purity and humility as an initiate.

In the morning was the next stage of initiation - confession to the septon, in my case to the Supreme, who turned out to be a very pleasant dry old man, who gave me a small lecture on the value of human life and its role in the world, and anointing with seven oils, according to the rite of the Seven. The most interesting thing is that my case was quite prestigious and that among the other knights there is even a separate privileged stratum called anointed knights, who were blessed personally by the Supreme Septon.

The most interesting and memorable thing followed afterwards.

Flashback.

The doors of Baylor's septum swung open, thanks to the churchwardens, and the bright light that poured through the doorway almost blinded me. I stepped outside, where a huge crowd had gathered below. Hundreds of ordinary people who had seen the members of the royal guard leave the White Sword Tower and head for the doors of Baelor's sept, were crowded at the base of the stairs, looking upward with undisguised interest.

Unfortunately for them, most of their view was blocked by the numerous lords and knights who occupied almost the entire stairwell leading up to the temple entrance. And if in the eyes of most of the knights I saw approval, admiration and even a slight envy because of the "honor" given, the faces of the lords were different. Stone statues, in whose eyes flashed sparks of squeamishness and gloating.

"Well, yes," I thought at the time. - "Some upstart merchant is being made an anointed knight, even though they think I'm not worthy of it. That's why I like the Dornish better, they have less hubris."

And finally, those who were the main stars of the performance today, along with me.

Ser Herold Hightower. Lord Commander and one of the oldest and strongest knights in the Seven Kingdoms.

Ser Harlan Grandison. Ser Whitebeard. One who has served four generations of the Targaryen royal dynasty, but can still belt most of the younger knights.

Prince Leawen Martell. The White Spear. The strongest of the living lancemen. He hasn't changed a bit over the years. Even his tarry black hair and close-cropped thick beard have not lost their luster.

Ser Erthur Dane. Heir to the title of Sword of Dawn. And the strongest swordsman of this generation. When I saw him, I thought for a moment what would happen if he met Aerys in battle. How would my favorite big brother fare?

And finally, Ser Barristan Selmy. Barristan the Brave, Ser Grandfather, Savior of the King. Clad in snow-white enameled armor, with a white cloak slowly developing due to the sea breeze, he, standing between the royal guardsmen standing at my sides, made a lasting impression.

"All that's missing is Oswell Went and the recently initiated Jonotor Darry. But that's understandable - someone has to guard the king," I thought as I approached the waiting knights.

«Kneel! - Solemnly, more playing to the audience, Barristan said, slowly pulling his sword from its white sheath.

Silently I kneel down. At that moment, the entire square in front of the sept froze, as if afraid to disturb the solemnity of the moment. And I understood them. The sword slammed into my right shoulder.

"It hurts," I thought before disappearing without a trace.

«Felix of House Temper, in the name of the Warrior, I pledge you to be brave. - The sword rested on my left shoulder. - In the name of the Father, I pledge you to be just. - Again on the right shoulder. - In the name of the Mother, I pledge you to protect the young and innocent. - Left. - In the name of the Virgin, I pledge you to protect all women. - Right. - In the name of the Old Woman, I bind you to honor and respect all the old. - Left. - In the name of the Blacksmith, I bind you not to stain your sword with innocent blood. - And a final blow on the right shoulder.....

There was a spectacular pause. The most important phrase of the ceremony was about to be said, after which I would officially become one of the most revered warriors of the Seven Kingdoms.

«Stand up, Ser Felix Temper.

As I stood up and buckled the sword the servant had brought to my belt-the same sword I had forged nearly a decade ago in Bern's forge-I looked out at the crowd and, at Barristan's subtle sign, drew my sword and pointed it toward the sky. As did all the knights and royal guards present.

And the world exploded with applause.

The end flashback.

I remembered that day as one of the brightest and most beautiful of my life. Not even the sickening smell of the capital city and the rage still smoldering inside at the Mad King bothered me.

I left the city only two days later, when the big party in honor of my becoming a knight was over (at my expense, of course), and, together with 30 accompanying woodsmen and Robin, kept the way to the West, along the Golden Road. My brig, together with Sigrid, Dontos and part of the crew, had long since made the waves toward Dorne, where Joen, having discovered his talents as an administrator in a few months, was successfully managing the construction and development of my fiefdom.

The aqueducts were almost half finished, thanks to the springs and lakes in the nearby mountains. The wharves, built much earlier due to better water-resistant cement, had long since received the ever-incoming ships carrying supplies of food, coal, obsidian, and new craftsmen. The foundations of a second fortress had even been laid, which was planned to be located on a small rocky island to the east of the harbor. In another three or four months the first manufactories, mines, foundries, ceramic workshops and the donjon of my castle will be completed. Then we can finally send a ship for Eilis.

The wedding better not be delayed too long.

That's why I decided to make a detour and stop by my family's house. I hadn't seen them in a while. I needed to make sure they were all right, see how Aerys was doing, see if my sisters were married, tell them about my wedding, and just relax. Saving the king, whose list of unpleasant nicknames had been joined by the Ungrateful, had sapped too much of my mental strength.

And as soon as I entered the house, which over the years had acquired several large additions, a normal board floor, and beautiful furniture, my poor ear was caught in a steel grip.

By the end of my inner monologue, my mother and I had managed to play "catch me up with the frying pan" almost all over the house and she, exhausted from such a run, trembled finely in my arms, pouring out all the accumulated emotions.

«Sonny, sweetie... Whimper... How glad I am that you came back... Whimper... - Grasping me like a lifeline, she showed her true face of a loving mother, whose absent-minded son came back after many years of separation. -I was so worried about you... Hnykh... There were such terrible rumors about you... Whimper... going around. As if you were sailing to the lands of cannibals and Dothraki... Whimper... Risking your life... Whim-a-a-a-a-a....

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore and burst into tears in my arms, pouring out all of her accumulated and hidden emotions.

"Yes. You are strange creatures women" - I thought, handing my mother to my father, who promised me a "serious conversation" with his eyes. - "You store up emotions inside you that eat you up from the inside out, and you don't show it to anyone. Is that a gift or a curse?"

My philosophical musings on the difference in emotional stability between a man and a woman were interrupted by my brother, who quietly approached, using only his lips to say a phrase that made me want to go to the other side of the world:

«The sisters will be here soon.

"Fuck*****..."

***

It was not until the evening that we were able to talk normally as a family, when the sisters returned, almost mirroring the scene with the screaming, the tearing off of my ear, and the beating (Thank the Gods, they were beating me with their fists, and my men were resting in an inn a few miles away - I would not have been able to wash off the shame if they had seen it). All the gifts I had brought, which had been sent to me in advance in King's Landing, were looked at and appreciated. My mother even stopped sulking after a close inspection of the spice set I had brought, and the twins almost strangled me with joy over the rare carved elephant bone hairpins made in I-Ti.

Now, sitting at the big table, sipping such homemade blackberry juice from my old horn mug and looking around at the family so close by, I realized how much everyone had changed over the years.

My father and mother. They hadn't changed much. Cersei was still a beautiful woman, with bright green eyes, sun-colored hair, and a lovely figure. This despite the fact that she would soon be 44 years old. Only the small wrinkles on her forehead and in the corners of her eyes, showed her true age.

"This is what clean air and a normal life does" - I thought, taking a bite of pie with baked apples.

Time had a much stronger effect on my father. His black hair, like the wing of a northern raven, had lost its color, becoming a white-steel shade. In combination with their long beard and mustache, which reached his waist, according to the latest Western fashion, it created a very strange impression. If Alexander's eyes were purple instead of blue, he might well have been mistaken for a Volantian and foxy aristocrat who had by some miracle found himself in Westeros. The only thing that disturbed this impression was the hard and masculine facial features that were common to all Northerners, but absent from the inhabitants of the Free Cities.

Aerys. His older brother had changed greatly over the years. He'd grown lean and wiry, more focused on speed and reaction than my father and me. We relied more on the strength and stamina needed to wield an axe, while he had the body of a true swordsman. Simple, no-frills facial features were very similar to mine, making us incredibly similar. Almost twins. Except for the hair-my short black hair, never grown back from my fight with Khal Bharbo, contrasted with his long, curly braid over his shoulder.

"He hated long hair," I remembered, twirling one of the many strands on my finger, as I had done before. - "It was either his sisters, fashion, or herd instinct that made him do it. Or maybe it's all of the above."

The sisters... Elia and Thea had changed the most. They have transformed from clumsy little girls into young beauties, capable of winning hearts with their looks alone.

I believe there are many kinds of beauty. There are exotic, giving the mystery and intrigue, beauty. A striking example - the famous Oriental beauties, with their appearance alone can excite a man's primal instinct of interest and desire. They entice and draw them into their nets, like sirens from Greek myths.

There is an otherworldly beauty, when looking at a girl, you think of her as something unearthly, out of this world. It seems to you as if she does not belong to this world and only her presence is a blessing of the Gods. Such was the beauty that Eilis possessed. Combined with her quiet and peaceful nature, it felt like she was an angel who had come down to earth. I had only managed to break through that image a few times, including in that conversation in Volantis.

My sisters possessed the third and most common type of beauty. Homely. There was nothing special about them, like big breasts combined with a narrow waist, or bright and enchanting eyes that could pull you into the abyss with a single glance. No, all of their features were very ordinary, well, maybe a little above average. But they were in harmony. The lashes matched perfectly with the eyebrows, the eyebrows matched perfectly with the lips, and the lips matched perfectly with the oval of the face. It's like the work of a hard-working but not super-talented sculptor - individually the features of the statue are nothing special, but together they create something new... perfect.

So, watching Thea help Elia braid one of the gifted hairpins into her long black hair, I was even getting a little sad. Because of my ambitions that forced me to leave home so early, I didn't get to see them grow up, mature, blossom, fall in love... although I was a little overzealous with the last one. Many of the local 'suitors' would probably lose all desire instantly if they saw their father or Aerys practicing.

They'd tear you to pieces.

«So, Brother. - The silence was finally broken by his older brother when dinner was eaten and he could start talking without fear of being hit in the forehead with a spoon. Father's habits were unchanged. - Tell me. We've only heard rumors about your adventures, and the information from your letter cleared things up a bit. We need more details.

Seeing my sisters' eyes burning with interest and my father and mother waiting, I couldn't refuse.

The story itself didn't take too long - I'd glossed over a lot of things, some were too boring, and I had to cut out Oberyn and Eilis and make up a new story as I went along. Although the description of the Essos cities, my becoming a lord, the rescue of the king and the recent knighting by the Knights of the Kingsguard caused a wave of excitement in all the family. But it didn't save me from the questions towards the end and the judgmental stares of my mother and sisters for appearing a bastard. Education, though.

«Good adventures have fallen on your skin, son. - My father said thoughtfully, looking at me through the glass of the glass that I sent three years ago. - But answer me this question - why didn't you become a lord in the West? The great lion is wise and generous. For a weapon of Valyrian steel, knowing your condition and whose son you are, he would easily grant you the Tarbeck lands, far more valuable than that lifeless valley.

Seeing such a question in everyone's eyes except my mother, more interested in getting another pie in the oven than in politics, I could only sigh.

«I couldn't, I just couldn't. - I answered, and seeing the incomprehensible look on the family's faces, I continued. - To become a Lord Vassal or Lord Bannerman in the West, the Outlands, the North, the Vale, the Stormlands, and the Riverlands, you need the king's approval. Aerys won't sign that paper on principle, preventing Tywin from having another vassal. Why do you think the lands of Castamere and Turbackhall haven't found a new lord yet? The King, in his envy and hatred of the Keeper of the West, would tear any such paper to shreds.

Taking a bite of freshly made pie and washing it down with milk, I continued.

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«Yes, and the Small Council wouldn't just look at strengthening the House of the Hand. They'd paint me to the king as a high-priority criminal who should be executed and his property confiscated. And they would have succeeded. So Dorne was my only option. All because of their privileges.

«Privileges? - Aerys asked interestedly, one eye glancing at his thoughtful father.

«Dorne was never conquered. - I said, slightly shocking all the household, who had never been interested in, and could never know, the history of the Seven Kingdoms under the Targaryen dynasty. - With the Targaryens' rise to power, Dorne, unlike the other kingdoms, did not lose its independence. Attempts were made to subjugate the lands, but without success. Although Aegon the Conqueror conquered the rest of Westeros with his dragons and army, Dorne was not easily conquered. Dorne was protected from the land army by the mountains, and from the dragons by guerrilla warfare tactics. It was there that the first king's youngest and favorite wife, Rhaenys Targaryen, was killed, with her dragon Meraxes. The Dornish warriors themselves did not gather in large armies like the King of the Hills and the King of the Expanse at the Field of Flame, where they were simply burned, nor did they huddle in fortified castles like Harren the Black at Harrenhal, so dragons were of little use. Deiron I the Young Dragon's conquest and subsequent retention of Dorne cost tens of thousands of dead soldiers and three years of unceasing war. But the region soon regained its independence. It was eventually settled by a union of dynasties - Daeron II Targaryen married Myria Martell, while his sister Daenerys was given in marriage to Maron Martell.

After wetting my throat and pouring another mug of milk, I continued the story.

«But marriage is not enough reason to join. Several preferences have been made, making Dorne much freer from the influence of the Iron Throne. The first... - I raised my finger at this point - .... is the title of Prince. A Prince of Dorn has the right, like a Hand, to rule his lands on behalf of the King. And this is a great deal of power, from being able to judge his subjects without regard for the king's opinion, to being able to bestow the title of lord on a mere man. Second... - Second finger - ...a different method of taxation. All kingdoms pay standard taxes, introduced as far back as Aegon I Targaryen, in the form of half of the sums collected by the Grandlords, consisting of the Thalia, the Merchant's Fee, the Craft Fee, the Knight's Fee, and the Faith Tax. But Dorne has paid a fixed sum each year for a hundred years, unchanged since the reign of Deiron the Good. Thirty thousand golden dragons.

Seeing the dumbfounded faces of my father and brother, who realized that such a sum was a mere trifle for an entire kingdom, I grinned.

«Money gets cheaper over time. At the time of the Red Dragon, this was a very large sum. - The shocked expression changed to one of incomprehension, and I realized that I'd been lucky in recent years - dealing mostly with educated people (Oberyn, Doran, merchants, lords, and my friends who'd passed the Citadel with me) had taken its toll. - Remember that gold, silver and copper, though considered rare and precious metals, are constantly being mined. And when something becomes more plentiful, it becomes cheaper.

Seeing the faces of my relatives smoothed in understanding, I didn't bother to clarify that this matter has many more details and pitfalls. In the Citadel alone, nearly three giant cabinets are occupied by the countless labors of maesters who possess the golden link of accountants, and have yet to understand all the nuances of money circulation and inflation of the Seven Kingdoms.

«The third and final privilege. - I continued, raising a third finger. - It consisted of voluntary military intervention. Unless the Prince of Dornish WILLINGLY wants to intervene in a war, even the King and Hand combined can't do anything. I don't like to fight and my main path is trade, so it was more profitable for me to settle in Dorne rather than the West, which the king probably wouldn't have allowed.

I didn't bother mentioning that I was afraid to be so close to Tywin Lannister, and that I remembered how fucked up his children were. No reason to quarrel with a father who genuinely respects the Great Lion and considers him a model lord.

«I understand your reasons, but I don't approve of settling in this whore's abode..." - Further conversation on "Why I shouldn't have settled in Dorne" was quickly cut short by my mother, who shut my father up with a piece of pie and asked the question that brought me home.

«When is the wedding?

«In three and a half months. - I answered instantly, knowing I'd get the crap beaten out of me if I didn't. - That's one of the reasons I came. To invite you to my wedding.

The ensuing shriek of happiness from my sisters and mother almost deafened the entire male side of the family. Although they can be understood - a wedding for any woman is a great reason to dress up and look at one of the main events in the life of a loved one. And if you add the fact that it will be the wedding of a lord, about which among ordinary people are legends....

The female part of the family terrorized me for a long time... Where, how, who, how much, what... They were interested in all the moments concerning the ceremony itself, guests, gifts, outfits, dishes and other stuff. At some point I just gave up and said that Eilis was in charge of organizing everything, apologizing in my mind in advance. For her, a somewhat apathetic and very calm personality, it would be very hard for her to be among three fires.

As a result, we were able to continue the conversation only an hour later, when my father took the excited women to their rooms and went to bed himself (old age is no joy), leaving me, Aerys, and the fifth candle in the dining room.

«Tell me, brother. - I began, realizing that I had told you everything about myself, and now it was time to become a listener, not a storyteller. - Now I wanted to know how you were doing.

Aerys looked serious almost at once, conveying that state of mind to me.

«Things are going well, especially since your gift to me a few years ago. Thanks to it, I've been able to gradually buy back small pieces of land from the Marbrands, Leffords, Braxes, Sarsfields, and other small houses. So now our family owns five tens of thousands of acres, which are used either as pastures or fields. The horses sell well to Lannisport, and the grain is bought at a small discount by merchants from Riverrun. - He said, leaning back in his chair and looking up at the boardwalk.

«You don't look pleased, for someone who owns the lands of a good lord and is a knight. - I remarked, pouring wine from my own fur into mugs.

«That's the problem, Felix. - Aerys said sadly, taking a sip of his drink. - Oh, Dornish! I respect that.

After taking another good sip and gesturing for more, his brother took out a small appetizer consisting of buttered goat cheese, popular in the West, with aromatic herbs and blackberries.

«So that's the problem. - He continued, draining another half of the mug. - I'm a knight-errant, with good land and enough wealth to be considered. But House Cold has no history of its own. We're new to the West and most of the locals look at us like crap. And if I'm clear-- if I make the effort, I can marry the daughter of a poor but noble house. But Thea and Elia...

At that moment, my brother hunched over, genuinely frightening me. I'd always known Aerys as a light-hearted slob, chasing every skirt and only getting serious when he was working and practicing with his sword. But now there was so much pain and regret in his eyes that it made me uncomfortable.

«I can't give them a proper dowry. - I can't give them a decent dowry," my brother said finally, drinking the rest of the wine in one gulp. - Almost all of the family's money goes to paying mercenaries to guard the villages, developing the pastures, and building the castle.

«A castle? - I was surprised to hear that.

«Yes. A castle. - My brother answered tiredly, looking up at the ceiling of the house where our charcoal drawings had been preserved since childhood. - A year ago, bandits began frequenting the area, and I had to hire mercenaries and free riders. I wanted to engage the latter as knights by organizing a small knight's lance, but I was refused. If a man doesn't have a castle, knights won't serve him. And the money for just one maester with a cast iron chain required almost three hundred dragons.

I almost choked on my wine when I heard the sum.

"He's being robbed!" - I thought, realizing that despite all of Aerys' talents in land management, he doesn't have a good outlook and understanding of the world around him. We need to bail out the native blood.

«I'll help you. I'll take care of the sisters' dowries and the castle. - My words made my older brother jump up and start the expected speech about how he could do it on his own, but my raised hand silenced him. Don't tell me you can do it yourself. - I'm not doing this for free. My land is not very fertile, like the rest of Dorne. Soon I will have trouble finding food. You will provide it for me, and in return I will provide you with a proper castle design and the money to build it. - Seeing how he was getting himself worked up (pride, damn it, doesn't allow it), I just sighed tiredly. I was lucky to have a brother who would never sit on my neck. - Don't think about saying no. I'll charge you every silver coin for the construction. You'll remember me by my words for a long time to come.

I didn't need to elaborate on the fact that I'd keep the prices down to a minimum and that he'd pay off his "debt" in a few years, but I could tell from the grateful and understanding look in his eyes that Aerys understood that.

«And what about the dowry?

«Don't worry about that. You agree that our sisters deserve the best, don't you? - I asked with a slight slyness, looking at my brother, and when he nodded in the affirmative, I continued. - I know about the majority opinion that the sooner you marry a girl, the better. There is a better chance of producing a good heir. But I suggest you wait five years.

«Why five years? - Aerys asked, as he poured the last drops of wine from my wineskin into his mug.

«In five years, my lands will be finally settled and profitable. Then I will be able to offer a dowry for our sisters..." Iris choked on the sum, splashing wine all over his shirt and part of the table. I had to stand up and clap him on the back, lest Gods forbid he die.

«For such a dowry they'd have suitors lining up to the Wall! - The older brother hissed, the juice getting into his windpipe and burning his lungs.

«Exactly! - I said cheerfully, pouring glasses of the golden Arbor wine I had hidden in my secret flask. - And among them we will be able to choose the most normal and adequate, who will respect and treat our angels well. And if something goes wrong ...

The inter-world gesture of holding his thumb across his throat clearly showed what would happen to those who would infringe on our sisters.

«Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! - Judging by Aerys' growing laughter, he understood my idea, and now he was laughing heartily and contagiously at the prospects.

«Ooh-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! - And naturally I soon joined him.

That day the head and heir of the Temper and Cold family laid the foundation of an eternal union that would last for many hundreds of years, not knowing that four pairs of eyes were looking at them like madmen from the next room.

***

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