The Stony Shore.
The sea wind carried a sharp, salty chill as it swept across Galon's dark brown hair.
He stood atop a towering black reef, looking out over nearly thirty longships lined up along the coast.
They had once been the claws of the Ironborn invasion, but now they lay silent, waiting for a new master to give them a different purpose.
Behind him stretched a camp that had already begun to take shape.
The discipline of the Glover soldiers, combined with the gradually restrained wildness of the Skagosi, had forged a force with formidable combat strength.
Asha Greyjoy stood slightly behind him.
The sea breeze lifted her dark hair.
Normally careless about her appearance, she instinctively adjusted it, as if hoping that when he turned, he would see her at her best.
Her gaze rested on the ships, but the corner of her eye lingered more on Galon's silhouette.
Over the course of their journey, her initial unwillingness and intent to use him had long since been replaced by something far more complicated.
After her failed attempt to recruit him, she had watched as he gradually tamed the Skagosi through both force and strategy.
During their camps, Galon often arranged contests between the Glovers and the Skagosi.
Sometimes duels of a few men, sometimes small group battles.
Aside from individual strength, the Glovers won most of these matches.
Through these victories, Galon subtly instilled discipline into the Skagosi, appealing to their respect for strength.
More importantly, he was fair.
Rewards and punishments were clear and consistent.
Even his own men were not spared if they broke the rules.
By the time they reached the Stony Shore, even Spartacus and the other Skagosi had fully accepted his command.
After observing him for so long, Asha began to notice something else.
There was a certain presence about Galon, something that made it hard not to be drawn to him.
And above all, he treated her with trust and respect.
Every time they camped, he ensured she was properly settled, even leaving her tent unguarded.
During quieter moments, he would seek her out to talk about the sea and distant lands.
Whenever he acknowledged or praised her thoughts, she felt a strange lightness, as if she had drunk strong wine.
Now, after days of traveling together, her feelings toward him had become tangled.
What began as calculation had turned into trust… and something else she could not quite name.
One thing, however, she understood clearly.
The man before her was like the deep sea—calm on the surface, yet capable of swallowing everything beneath.
As her thoughts drifted toward him again, Galon broke the silence.
"The ships are ready."
He did not turn around as he spoke.
"What remains is deciding where to drive the blade."
Asha took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus.
Whatever confusion she felt toward him, her hatred for Euron ran deeper.
She pushed down the turmoil in her heart and began analyzing the situation.
"Pyke is easy to defend and hard to attack.
Even if Euron seized power, he still has followers—desperate men drawn either by fear or by his promises.
With them, taking Pyke will be extremely difficult."
She stepped forward, standing beside Galon, her eyes briefly lingering on his face.
"I think we should go to Ten Towers first.
That is my uncle Rodrik Harlaw's domain. He is the most likely—and most capable—ally we have.
Through him, we can contact other houses still loyal to the rightful Greyjoy line, gather intelligence on Pyke's defenses, and then—"
As she spoke, another thought formed quietly in her mind.
If she wanted to secure her rule as Queen of the Iron Islands, she could not rely entirely on Northern forces.
Otherwise, the Ironborn would never truly accept her.
But before she could continue, Galon cut her off.
"Too slow."
His voice was calm, yet decisive.
Asha froze, turning to him.
Galon faced her, his red eyes burning with intensity.
"Speed is everything, Asha. We cannot be certain of your uncle's stance.
And contacting other houses?
Men's hearts are unpredictable. Who can guarantee that no one will betray us to prove loyalty to the new king?"
His words struck her into silence.
"If we go to Ten Towers first, the news will leak.
And once Euron is alerted, if he fortifies or strikes first, we will be crushed at sea with this force."
Asha frowned.
"Then what if he gathers his forces at Pyke? We don't have enough men to breach its walls."
"Then we draw him out."
Galon's gaze sharpened.
"The men you brought—one of them is from Lordsport, correct?"
Asha nodded.
"Tristifer Botley. His elder brother is dead. He should now be heir to Lordsport."
She paused, then realized his intent.
"You want to use him to take control of Lordsport... and lure Euron out?"
"Yes."
Galon turned toward the restless sea.
"Euron seized power through betrayal. His rule is unstable.
Right now, his attention will be focused entirely on his mad pursuit of dragons. He will never expect us to cross the sea so soon—nor so boldly."
His voice was steady, logical, impossible to ignore.
"We use your secret routes to bypass the outer islands and reach Lordsport under cover of night."
"We seize control there, gather intelligence on Pyke, and then lure him out.
Strike fast. Kill him before he can react. And once he is dead, you—his rightful heir—raise your banner before Pyke.
Those inside who resent him will turn... That is how we win with the least cost."
Asha stared at him.
The plan was bold. Reckless, even.
Even for her, it felt dangerously ambitious.
"This is too risky..."
Galon met her gaze without hesitation.
"Of course it is."
"But war itself is risk. Hesitation only multiplies it... This is your only chance."
His voice lowered, persuasive, almost irresistible.
Asha hesitated.
But when she looked into his eyes—steady, unwavering—her doubt began to fade.
His strength, his clarity... they made her want to believe.
"...You're right." She drew in a breath, resolve hardening in her expression. "Hesitation leads to defeat."
"Then we do it your way."
"Straight to Pyke. I'll guide you through the hidden routes."
A faint smile tugged at Galon's lips.
Inside, his thoughts were far colder.
Her trust was growing. But it was not enough.
He had refused her plan to go to Ten Towers for a reason. He wanted her isolated. Dependent on him.
So that when she claimed the Seastone Chair, her authority would be inseparable from his support.
So that she would rely on him completely.
In power.
And in heart.
That was true control.
With that thought, Galon extended his hand.
Asha met it.
Their hands struck together briefly, sealing the daring plan.
The sea wind howled louder.
As if heralding the storm to come.
__________
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