Tycho Nestoris was caught off guard by this sudden reversal. His meticulous mind raced, trying to decipher the meaning hidden behind Euron's abrupt shift—was it genuine interest, or a more complex trap? He found himself momentarily unable to read this man from the Iron Islands.
He wasn't the only one. The coalition leaders—Robert, Jon, Ned, and the others—exchanged confused glances. They didn't understand why Euron, having almost driven the man away, suddenly dragged the conversation back to the loan itself.
But having fought side by side for so long, they had developed a resigned trust in Euron's unconventional methods.
Euron shot them a very subtle look that said, "Hold your ground, stay silent." Despite being full of doubts, they chose to suppress the urge to ask questions, sitting like silent mountains and leaving the stage entirely to Euron.
Euron spoke to Tycho as if he had just been discussing a trivial matter, his tone relaxed. "A loan is a major event, after all. Mr. Envoy, why don't you return to your guest quarters and consider the terms carefully? As for us," he glanced around at his allies, "we also need to discuss this internally. We can talk again tomorrow."
This statement gave the envoy a graceful way out while buying precious time for his own side. Tycho Nestoris knew that saying more now would be useless. He recovered his usual composure and bowed.
"Then, I look forward to meeting you again tomorrow, my Lords."
With that, maintaining the dignity of a Braavosi envoy, he turned and slowly left the hall, leaving a room full of suspicion and calculation behind him.
Once Tycho Nestoris's figure disappeared through the doors, the suppressed questions in the hall finally exploded. Robert turned to Euron first. Though impatient, he gave his ally a chance to explain. "Euron, you better explain clearly. What exactly are you planning in that head of yours?"
Euron turned around. There was no apology on his face; instead, he wore the excited gleam of a pirate who has found buried treasure. "Apologies, everyone, for acting on my own. But the reason is simple—I want to borrow the hen to lay the egg."
He looked at the leaders present, his voice filled with ambition. "I have eyed the immense wealth of the Iron Bank for a long time, but I've suffered from a lack of opportunity to get my hands in it. This time, they delivered themselves to our doorstep. I want to use their gold dragons as chips to play a much larger game."
Robert frowned. He understood every individual word, but strung together, they made no sense to him. He grumbled, "Speak the Common Tongue!"
Lord Jon Arryn, however, looked thoughtful. He vaguely grasped Euron's intent. "You mean... you don't actually need this money for the war? Then how do you intend to use this massive sum?"
"Open a bank," Euron answered concisely. "The Free Cities have so many banks, yet Westeros, the vast Seven Kingdoms, doesn't have a single decent one. My Lords, don't you think this is a massive void waiting to be filled?"
Lord Hoster Tully pondered for a moment, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrest of his chair. The ruler of the Riverlands, known for his pragmatism, calmly threw a bucket of cold water on the idea.
"That is easy to say, Lord Euron, but the risk of opening a bank is like walking on the edge of a cliff. Leaving aside the Iron Bank's retaliation, simply operating a bank is no easy task. Do you remember House Hightower of Oldtown? As wealthy and deeply rooted as they were, they tried to establish a bank in the early years. Did they not end in failure and collapse?"
His words carried the weight of history, reminding everyone that in Westeros, finance was no child's game.
Hearing this, Euron was not discouraged. Instead, the corner of his mouth curled into a knowing, slightly arrogant smile. He had clearly done his research.
"You are right, Lord Hoster. I have studied House Hightower's attempt in detail." His eyes shone with determination. "They failed for many reasons: too much reliance on the single trade route of Oldtown, lending to too few concentrated targets, and more importantly, they tried to manage money—which is as fluid and fickle as water—the same way they managed land."
He straightened his back, speaking with confidence. "So, I will not repeat their mistakes. My methods will be entirely different."
Prince Oberyn of Dorne asked sharply, "Is your ambition merely to open a bank in Westeros?"
Euron Greyjoy shook his head. In those eyes that hid shadows, for the first time, he undisguisedly revealed an ambition to swallow everything. "That is just the beginning. If possible... I want to surpass the Iron Bank, and replace it."
This sentence exploded in the hall like a thunderclap, plunging everyone into shocked silence. Euron's plot was far grander, and far madder, than they had imagined.
Euron let out a low, magnetic laugh, his eyes shimmering like the restless tides. "So, Robert, when you go back, just relax. Be bold when you draft the loan amount—the more, the better."
He then turned to the coalition leaders, his tone becoming highly provocative, as if sharing a wonderful secret. "Gentlemen, if this bank truly opens, would you like a share? This is a golden opportunity to make your gold dragons lay eggs."
Eddard Stark shook his head slowly. The inherent caution of the North and his conservatism toward unfamiliar fields made him instinctively keep his distance from such financial adventures.
Robert Baratheon, however, had eyes that lit up. He wasn't interested in multiplying gold, but Euron's arrogant talk of surpassing the Iron Bank satisfied his combative nature immensely.
Lord Hoster Tully shrugged helplessly. The Riverlands had been ravaged by war; he simply couldn't spare much idle capital for such a risky investment.
Prince Oberyn smiled happily. "I will consider it, but we can discuss the specific amount later."
The seasoned Lord Jon Arryn spoke up at the right moment, pulling the topic back to reality. "Euron, let's discuss these grand plans after we work together to overthrow the Mad King on the Iron Throne. Right now, the war comes first."
Euron nodded readily, agreeing.
However, Robert could no longer contain his straightforward impulses. He waved his big hand, shouting as if buying wine at a market, "Fine! Then it's settled! We'll borrow five million gold dragons from that Iron Bank! Hahaha! And if you really crush the Iron Bank in the future, won't this debt be wiped clean? I'll have made a pure profit!"
Behind his seemingly reckless joke lay a startling bandit logic: betting on the credit of a future empire.
The Iron Bank. What Euron wanted wasn't to surpass it, but to replace it. And if he couldn't replace it, then he would destroy it...