The news that Gylbert Farwynd of Lonely Light had arrived on Pyke with his three daughters naturally reached King Quellon's ears first.
According to the traditions of the Iron Islands, the ruler of all the islands received these vassals from the far west in his hall.
However, the atmosphere of the meeting was unusually stifling. Though the Farwynd father and daughters stood before King Quellon, their expressions were as detached and indifferent as strangers meeting by chance.
Their attitude toward King Quellon lacked the respect a vassal should show a liege lord. In their speech and manner, there was not a shred of self-awareness or humility expected of a bannerman.
What displeased King Quellon even more was that after a brief and cold exchange of pleasantries, their conversation shifted bluntly. Their only repeated request was to see Euron.
This blatant disregard made him, the King of the Iron Islands, feel insignificant. King Quellon's face gradually darkened, and a surge of offended anger rose in his heart. He said no more, simply gave a cold snort, and swept out of the room, leaving these rude visitors hanging in the empty hall, ignoring them completely.
No one expected that Gylbert Farwynd's visit would end the way it did—he transformed into a seal and vanished into the deep sea, leaving his three treasured daughters behind with the parting words: "They are your Salt Wives."
The atmosphere at that evening's banquet became exceptionally peculiar because of this sudden news.
When word spread that Euron Greyjoy had "inexplicably" acquired three Salt Wives, and people saw the Farwynd sisters following him step for step, the air in the long hall seemed to thicken.
King Quellon's hand paused on his wine cup. The expression on his face was complicated, finally resolving into an ambiguous grunt. Ashara was initially surprised, but after her gaze flitted between Euron and those three identical faces, a wry smile touched her lips. Other family members exchanged looks of curiosity, inquiry, and amusement.
The three new additions—Rachael, Nicole, and Zoey—became the undeniable center of attention at the feast.
They completely lacked the rigid concept of hierarchy and status common among noble families, nor did they possess the wariness and guardedness of ordinary people. No matter what they were asked—be it legends of Lonely Light or their own abilities—they answered with eyes wide and clear, honest to a fault, hiding nothing.
What fascinated everyone even more was their identical appearances and movements as triplets, and their unique way of speaking—completing each other's sentences in a relay.
"Does the lighthouse of Lonely Light truly never go out?" Asha asked curiously.
Rachael nodded: "Yes."
Nicole added: "Relies on earth-fire and crystals."
Zoey concluded: "Has burned for a thousand years."
They sat there quietly, like three flawless, exotic works of art. Their very existence, and that unworldly purity and synchronization, were enough to shift the banquet's atmosphere from its initial awkwardness to something unprecedentedly relaxed and amusing.
King Quellon seemed infected by this novel atmosphere. Rarely for him, he mimicked the sisters' unique sentence-breaking style, asking slowly with a mix of teasing and inquiry:
"Your father—"
"Just left you—"
"To be someone's Salt Wives—"
"Don't you—"
"Feel like—"
"You were sold?"
As his words fell, everyone's eyes focused on the three sisters. Rachael, Nicole, and Zoey looked at each other, seemingly finding nothing offensive in the question. They answered frankly in their signature relay style:
Rachael: "No—"
Nicole: "We will be with Euron for a very long time—"
Zoey: "Exploring unknown seas—"
Rachael: "People who are always together—"
Nicole: "Should naturally—"
Zoey: "Be like husband and wife."
Their logic was simple and direct, as if derived from some ancient and pure natural law, leaving the crowd stunned.
Ashara, Euron's properly wedded Rock Wife who was currently pregnant, sat right beside them. Normally, hearing such "treasonous" talk, she should have felt offended or even angry. But strangely, looking into those three pairs of crystal-clear eyes devoid of any malice, she couldn't muster a shred of anger.
She simply imitated their tone as well, asking softly with a hint of helplessness and great curiosity:
"Do you know—"
"Euron—"
"Already has a Rock Wife—"
"That is me!"
"Are you willing—"
"To share—"
"Your own—"
"Husband with others?"
Her question cut to the core. The hall fell silent instantly, everyone holding their breath for the answer from these three magical girls.
The sisters looked at each other again and offered their seamless explanation:
Rachael: "We are triplets—"
Nicole: "Hearts and minds connected—"
Zoey: "Can only marry one person—"
Rachael: "Father said—"
Nicole: "Women can't be three Rock Wives to one man—"
Zoey: "So we can only be Salt Wives together."
This self-consistent logic left everyone speechless.
In Westeros, you indeed couldn't take three wives simultaneously. What they said... seemed to make a strange kind of sense?
But thinking about it carefully, something felt very wrong.
Euron rubbed his forehead, attempting a final confirmation. "Do you know what 'Salt Wife' actually means?"
The three sisters nodded simultaneously, expressions serious:
"Yes, we know—"
"Of course we know—"
"We aren't children—"
"It means every day we must—"
"Sleep and eat together—"
"And bear your children."
"Pfffttt~~~~~" Asha, sitting nearby, finally couldn't hold it in. She sprayed her ale across the table, leaning back and slapping the wood, roaring with laughter.
The subtle tension in the hall was instantly shattered by this sudden, childlike bluntness and Asha's explosive laughter, turning into a scene of hilarity.
Euron looked helplessly at Ashara, his face full of innocence and a wry smile as he spread his hands. "You saw it yourself. This really has nothing to do with me."
Ashara raised an eyebrow, her tone carrying a hint of playful reproach. "Nothing to do with you!? Then why didn't they go be Balon's Salt Wives? Why did they come specifically for you?"
Balon, who was drinking ale nearby, choked violently upon hearing this. He coughed hard and waved his hands frantically. "Argue all you want, but don't drag your brother into this..." Before he finished, he felt a cold gaze from beside him. His wife, Alannys, was staring at him with a look mixing caution and murderous intent. He immediately added sensibly, "...It's very dangerous."
Ashara frowned slightly, her gaze returning to Euron with a trace of confusion and worry. "So what now? Are you really going to take them as Salt Wives?"
Euron sighed, his tone firm yet gentle. "Of course not." He rubbed his brow, looking like he had a headache. "Sigh... this matter needs to be considered at length."
Synchronized confusion appeared on the sisters' faces. Rachael spoke first: "But Father just said—"
Nicole continued: "We are already your Salt Wives—"
Zoey asked finally: "How can it be considered at length?"
Euron explained patiently, "I mean, you can stay and work for me, use your abilities. But the title of Salt Wife isn't necessary."
The sisters looked at each other, still puzzled. Rachael tilted her head: "But just now—"
Nicole mimicked Euron's earlier tone: "You clearly said—"
Zoey said seriously: "Following you without a title is improper."
"I misspoke! It is proper and legal!" Euron waved his hand decisively, ending the topic with undeniable authority. "Alright, it's settled."
Euron clearly didn't want to dwell on this issue, so he quickly changed the subject. "By the way, what can you do? Any special abilities?"
Hearing this, the sisters immediately perked up and began counting off their skills one by one:
"Swim in the sea—for a very long time—"
"Catch fish in the sea too—"
"Can turn into seals—sea lions—and walruses—"
"Can control small animals—in the sea, sky, or land—"
"As long as they aren't especially huge—"
"Can make salted fish, grilled fish, fish soup—"
"Can do laundry—can read—can write—"
Finally, the three added in unison, their eyes clear and earnest: "And we can bear your children too~~~"
Euron couldn't help but facepalm and laugh bitterly. "Let's skip the child-bearing part... let's talk about the others. How many flying creatures can you control at once? Say, ravens?"
The sisters answered fluently without needing to think:
"Each person—five—"
"Fifteen in total."
A light flashed in Euron's eyes. He immediately ordered Lysa beside him, "Lysa, take them under your wing for now. Teach them properly how to gather and organize intelligence."
Lysa nodded steadily, glancing at the sisters with appreciation. "En, I think they will be very talented in this regard."
The sisters, however, showed synchronized hesitation.
Rachael: "But we agreed—"
Nicole: "To go to the Far West together—"
Zoey: "How can we follow someone else?"
Euron explained patiently, "'Following' doesn't mean being inseparable every moment, like you three sisters. We can't be glued together every second, understand?" His tone turned solemn as he gave a promise. "Anyway, remember this: in the future, when I set sail for the Far West, I will definitely take you with me."
The sisters seemed to only half-understand, but based on their trust in Euron, they nodded in sync.
Euron looked around at the Greyjoy family members, who were already doubled over with laughter, some even twitching on the table. He shook his head helplessly.
"Alright, that's enough," he raised his voice, a mix of amusement and resignation in his tone. "We should return to Iron Wind Island. If we stay any longer, I fear some people might actually die of laughter here."
His words drew a louder round of laughter and good-natured jeering. The banquet came to an end in an atmosphere of unprecedented liveliness and joy.