"You Starks have already surpassed the Lannisters to become the richest house in the Seven Kingdoms," Dany said with a complicated expression.
"Highgarden in the Reach has more than four hundred thousand tons of grain in storage. I can't compare to that," Jon shook his head.
"Sansa inherited Aegon's estate. Did you know that?" Dany asked with an odd look on her face.
"The two wyverns?"
Dany carefully observed Jon's expression and eyes, confirming that he truly had no idea what his sister was doing, or what she had done.
"Strictly speaking, it was Illyrio's estate, including but not limited to nearly five hundred thousand tons of wheat, butter, and smoked meat."
Jon was stunned. "She didn't tell me."
"But she told me. She also said that the two hundred thousand tons of grain Aegon left on Dragonstone were no longer wanted and would all be given to me to help the common people of the Trident," Dany said with a meaningful smile.
Once Dragonstone accepted that gift, the inheritance Sansa received from Illyrio would be completely "legalized."
Not only could it be brought out and used openly, but it would also, to a certain extent, receive protection from Aunt Dany.
Dany now truly felt a measure of admiration for her nephew's wife's generosity.
"Two hundred thousand tons…" Jon's expression shifted repeatedly.
Even if an unexpected inheritance counted as a pleasant surprise, he still felt a pang of regret.
"Unlike the grain you left in Braavos, that hundred thousand tons there will definitely not be coming back. I keep my word and won't appropriate Aegon's property. If you're reluctant, have Sansa come speak to me," Dany said with a warm smile and an exceptionally cordial tone.
Jon glanced at her, and suddenly he seemed to understand his sister's intentions.
A sharp glint flashed through the gray eyes behind his visor as he said in a deep voice, "To be frank, the grain in Braavos was left there deliberately."
Dany's expression froze. She asked in surprise, "You deliberately left the grain in Braavos and waited for them to seize it? Could it be that the contract you signed with the Braavosi contains harsh penalty clauses?"
Jon nodded and said with a faintly smug smile, "Not too harsh. Just a thirtyfold penalty for breach of contract.
I knew the Long Night was coming. I knew there would be a global grain shortage. I also knew that when people are starving, they will do anything.
So even though I had the capability and sufficient time to transport all 370,000 tons of grain to the North, I deliberately left a portion in Braavos."
The way Dany looked at Jon changed. "I didn't expect the Iron Bank to be the one you outmaneuvered this time."
Jon's smile faded, replaced by bitterness. "Do you know the loan agreement I signed with the Iron Bank?
All the forests, mines, and estates within Stark lands, along with a thousand years of Northern taxes, were pledged as collateral. The annual interest alone amounts to tens of thousands of gold dragons.
Under normal circumstances, it would take at least two thousand years to fully repay the Iron Bank.
Two thousand years!
For the next two millennia, the Starks would have to live frugally, worse off than ordinary merchants.
If I didn't use some means, if I didn't repay the debt while I'm still alive, future generations of Starks would likely curse me to death."
"With a thirtyfold penalty, you'd earn at least thirty million gold dragons, wouldn't you? Your descendants should follow the Lannisters' example and call you 'Jon the Golden-Shitter.'
Perhaps a Stark named 'Jon' could surpass one named 'Brandon,'" Dany mocked lightly.
"No." Jon's face reddened as he waved his hand. "I never expected to collect the full penalty. If I can repay the loan and receive a few million gold dragons in compensation to help the Northerners who survive the Long Night rebuild their homes, that will be enough."
"Why?" Dany asked curiously.
Jon sighed. "After the Long Night, the North will inevitably be shattered and desolate, while across the Narrow Sea there will be no White Walker invasion and their strength will remain intact.
Braavos, which maintains the Faceless Men of the House of Black and White, has never been kind. Would they repay a massive penalty to a weak and powerless creditor?
I'll be satisfied if I can secure some benefit."
"You could sell the penalty contract to someone capable of collecting the debt from Braavos and split the proceeds fifty-fifty."
It would be like a South American country buried in debt declaring bankruptcy and planning to default. But once Wall Street sharks buy up a large number of those debt contracts, throwing tantrums no longer works. They would even dare to seize warships. Would you still dare not repay?
"Sell it to you?" Jon's eyes lit up.
"I don't want it. That little sum doesn't interest me," Dany shook her head.
"Little sum? Half of it would still be more than ten million!" Jon exclaimed.
"Do you know how much the Iron Bank owes me?" Dany asked calmly.
A thought stirred in Jon's mind as he recalled that the Dragon Queen also had a contract with the Iron Bank to purchase grain worth fifty million gold dragons.
"What multiple did you set for the penalty?" he asked, his voice trembling.
"Not as high as yours. Just twentyfold."
"Twenty times fifty million—how much is that? Has the Iron Bank gone bankrupt?" Jon asked blankly.
"Not necessarily. Other than the Iron Bank itself, no one knows how much gold Braavos has hidden.
And they won't need to bear the full compensation alone."
After signing a contract with me, they then split the grain purchase agreement into several portions and packaged them separately to sell to major grain merchants around the world. The large merchants then divided the big contracts into medium ones, and the medium contracts into small ones."
Jon's eyes widened. He looked at the Dragon Queen strangely and said, "Even if the world didn't perish in the Long Night, it would most likely be destroyed by this debt crisis."
Dany had just been about to say something when her expression suddenly turned grave. The dragonflame fireball above her head rapidly rose higher, pushing the darkness farther away.
On the snow-covered plain, which looked like it had been wiped once with a white rag, the embers of corpses sent up thin wisps of scorched smoke.
As far as the eye could see, there were charred bones and blackened mounds of snow everywhere, as densely packed as the pockmarks on Ser Richard's face.
But there were no Others, no wights.
Only then did Dany suddenly realize that she and Jon had been chatting idly in front of the main gate for quite a while, and not a single enemy had come to disturb them.
This was a battlefield.
"The wights have retreated," she said solemnly.
After the dragonflame fireball rose higher, Jon also noticed something unusual. Hearing her words, he frowned and said, "The wights fear no death, and their tide is endless. I thought they would never retreat."
Dany entered her dragon-spirit state. Drogon circled the city walls once, and she was startled to discover that only the fighting on her side had stopped. The siege elsewhere continued.
"They haven't retreated. It's just that—"
As Dany was about to speculate that the army of the Others had changed tactics, a figure slowly emerged from the darkness directly ahead.
The dead horse was wrapped in a layer of white frost, like frozen sweat. Black, stiffened intestines dragged down from its split abdomen. On its back sat a rider as pale as black ice.
It did not have the sparse, fragile white hair that floated like seaweed. Instead, on its wrinkled forehead was a ring of horn-shaped ice crystals, each as thick as a little finger, like long swords, encircling the crown of its head.
Dany felt nothing in particular about the Other's prominent "horned crown," but Jon was filled with doubt and shock.
That ring of ice-crystal horns looked remarkably like the "Iron Sword Crown" of the King in the North, House Stark: a bronze circlet engraved with the runes of the First Men, set with nine long sword-shaped black iron spikes standing upright.
The "Iron Sword" crown bore no gold, silver, or any jewels. It had only steel and bronze, dark and hard, the very metals of winter that resisted the cold.
Perhaps it was just a coincidence.
For some reason, when he saw that Other walking forward with an ice sword on its back, Jon felt uneasy, as if something very bad were happening.
The appearance of this Other knight was vastly different from the greatsword-bearing messenger whom Dany had slain before the battle. Yet based on appearance alone, it was difficult for humans to discern any essential difference.
It was like how people from the Celestial Empire see African Americans; they all look the same.
However, as it drew closer, Dany and Jon, and even the four Unsullied holding shields, grew solemn and felt immense pressure.
Because the cold wind seemed to cheer for it. The howling was nearly piercing. Jon's cloak whipped sideways, almost dragging him southward.
Snowflakes swirled around it like tiny sprites. Frost seemed to come alive, spreading before the horse's hooves.
The remaining sparks on the scorched corpses on the ground quickly went out, and even the smoke vanished.
When the Other came within thirty meters of the shield wall, the dragonflame fireball above Dany's head flickered like an oil lamp running out of fuel in a gale. The flame shook violently, then gradually dimmed.
"Oh no, why have the torches gone out?"
"The wind is too strong. Even the wood in the braziers won't burn?"
Behind Dany, along the city walls, torches and braziers went out one after another from east to west, like when the dormitory caretaker pulls the main switch at midnight and the brightly lit building loses power floor by floor.
The darkness was like the shroud on a mortuary slab, slowly being pulled up to cover the entirety of Winterfell.
At this moment, aside from the slightly dimmed, shriveled dragonflame fireball above the Dragon Queen's head, all the firelight in Winterfell had vanished.
Candles would not light. Torches would not light. Firewood would not burn.
More directly put, within several kilometers in every direction, there was no longer any fire element in heaven and earth, nor was any allowed to exist.
Panic and clamor erupted along Winterfell's walls. The torches had gone out, yet the wights were still attacking the city.
The chaos continued until Drogon roared in fury, "Wildfire bombs! Burn the ladders!"
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
The once-arrogant and wanton, bewitching wildfire now seemed like a shy maiden awaiting marriage, bashful and hesitant, wishing to hide beneath her red bridal veil.
The Other did not stop until it was twenty meters from the Valyrian steel shields. Its ice-blue eyes lingered on Jon's face for a moment as it said calmly, "I am the King of the White Ghosts. You have proven your qualification. I have come."
There was none of the ear-splitting crack of shattering ice. It spoke in ordinary Common Tongue. Aside from its excessively cold tone, it was no different from a normal person.
Well, not quite. At this moment the frigid wind howled like ten thousand vengeful spirits wailing beside human ears, yet its voice was entirely unaffected by the wind, clearly reaching everyone present.
Dany could do the same, because she was the Wind God.
But what about it?
"The King of the Others has truly come. It really is the King of the Others," Jon said in a trembling voice.
"It's too early," Dany frowned.
Looking at that lone rider, the pretty face behind her mask twisted with hesitation. Should she shout, "Let me test your qualification," and have the three dragons pounce together?
Or shout, "A pleasure, a pleasure," invite it into the city for talks, then shut the gates and set five thousand axemen upon it?
Or call over the Valyrian steel guards at the gate, line them up to welcome the King of the Others, then catch it off guard, surround it, and crush it under forty Valyrian steel shields?
Or tell it, "Wait here for a moment while I fetch the challenger," then slip out the back gate and circle around behind it?
Earlier, everyone had assumed the King of the Others would make a grand entrance surrounded by hundreds of lesser Others and hundreds of thousands of wights.
Now that it had come alone to this meeting, Dany could not help feeling restless. All sorts of schemes burst forth in her mind.
"I will challenge you!" Just as she was pondering which stratagem would be most foolproof, Second Stag's resounding voice rang out from behind.
(End of Chapter)
Want to read the chapters in Advance? Join my Patreon
https://patreon.com/Glimmer09