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The midday feast still had to be eaten. It was held in the Great Hall of the Red Keep as before, the long tables laden with abundant food. However, compared to the unrestrained revelry during the wedding and the tourney, the atmosphere was starkly different.
Goblets were still in hand, but no longer being drained recklessly.
This meal felt more like a political council meeting not held in the council chambers.
Euron conversed in low tones with Lord Tywin and Lady Olenna Redwyne. He informed them that the first batch of startup capital for the bank, one million Gold Dragons, would arrive at the port of King's Landing in a few days.
At the same time, he proposed establishing the first bank branch in King's Landing to quickly undertake lending business in the Crownlands and control the core financial lifeline.
Before the Gold Dragons arrived, the Lannisters and Redwynes needed to utilize their resources and influence in the capital to set up the bank's framework.
Both Tywin and Lady Olenna had no objections; this was precisely the first step they expected from their investment.
Euron also reached a consensus with Eddard Stark. He handed over the prisoners transferred from Dorne to Ned. On his return to the North, Ned would escort them to the Wall to join the Night's Watch. Upright and placing great importance on the Wall, Ned agreed readily.
Hand of the King Jon Arryn also took this opportunity to entrust Ned with taking other prisoners captured during the war in King's Landing to the Wall. This move alleviated the supervision burden and food pressure on the capital while adding manpower to the Wall guarding the realm—killing two birds with one stone.
On the other side of the long table, Lord Tywin and Lady Olenna discussed grain pricing and trade between the Westerlands and the Reach, their words full of calculation and weighing of interests.
King Quellon discussed preliminary ideas for rebuilding the Royal Fleet with Lord Hand Jon Arryn; the Iron Islands' shipbuilding technology and maritime experience were undoubtedly significant assets.
Prince Oberyn of Dorne exchanged views with the stern-faced Stannis Baratheon regarding the future establishment of a bank branch at Storm's End.
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Throughout the luncheon, conversations rose and fell, yet none were about pleasure.
Between the clinking of cutlery flowed realistic topics of power, money, and territory. This feast lacked the usual casualness and leisure of noble gatherings. Behind every smile might hide a condition; every raised glass might signify a silent compromise or alliance.
Robert's gaze held a trace of emptiness. Thinking that he would soon be drowned in countless petitions, court quarrels, and fiscal deficits, having to face these headache-inducing nuisances every day, the fine wine in his cup instantly lost its flavor. Immense fatigue and boredom surged in his heart.
Suddenly, for no reason, he envied Euron—though a second son unable to inherit the Iron Islands, he was thus spared many heavy burdens of an heir. He could marry the woman he loved as he pleased, do what he wanted, go anywhere he wished, enjoying the freedom Robert now desperately craved but had lost.
Then, Robert shook his head, as if trying to shake off this sudden melancholy. He suddenly remembered something and turned to Euron with a booming voice, asking with a hint of curiosity, "Euron! Now you are Lord of Harrenhal, possessing your own independent fief. You count as establishing a cadet branch of House Greyjoy, spreading leaves and branches. According to tradition, you must have your own house sigil and words! Well, have you decided?"
Others also looked at Euron with curiosity.
Euron was prepared for this. In fact, he had discussed this privately with his father, King Quellon, and his brother Balon. Hearing the King ask, he exchanged a knowing look with his father beside him, then smiled and replied, "Your Grace, I have a preliminary idea. I will formally submit it to the Grand Maester for record later."
Hearing this, Robert's interest piqued instantly. He waved a large hand. "Don't wait for later! Come, bring it out. Let me have a look first, see what new trick our Kraken has come up with!"
Euron smiled and calmly took two carefully drawn parchments from his chest, slowly unfolding them on the table before Robert.
The first was the sigil pattern: the main subject still adopted the signature golden kraken of House Greyjoy, symbolizing his blood origin and rule over the ocean. But the background was no longer a single black; instead, it was divided into three distinct color blocks—azure blue representing the boundless sky above, ochre yellow symbolizing the solid earth in the middle, and deep blue signifying the sea below. The entire sigil proclaimed that this new lord's ambition was no longer confined to the ocean.
Westerosi heraldry strictly followed the principle of "same origin, different branch": cadet branch sigils needed to reflect the blood connection with the main house but highlight uniqueness through pattern modification, color adjustment, or symbol superimposition.
Euron's sigil kept the main golden kraken unchanged, only altering the background color. It conformed to the rules and gained the approval of those present.
On the second sheet, written in bold, vigorous strokes, were the House Words—"Anchors Unbound by Ports, Blades Unafraid of Land!"
These two short phrases were full of enterprise and conquest. They retained the Ironborn's daring spirit of navigation while declaring their determination to extend their power onto the continent.
When Euron's house words, filled with enterprise and conquest—"Anchors Unbound by Ports, Blades Unafraid of Land"—were mentioned at the banquet, they immediately drew waves of admiring comments from the surrounding nobles. These words embodied the Ironborn's nature of being inseparable from the sea while heralding their ambition to expand onto land. Truly ingenious.
King Robert listened carefully. His thick fingers tapped the rim of his gilded goblet as he murmured the two phrases repeatedly. "Anchors unbound by ports, blades unafraid of land..." He looked up suddenly, his booming laughter drowning out the surrounding discussion. "Hahaha! Good! Sounds damn exciting!" He slapped his thigh hard, eyes flashing with appreciation. "It rolls off the tongue, and has plenty of spirit! From sea to land, reasonable and logical! This is worthy of my brother, worthy of the Lord who will soon govern Harrenhal!"
The grand wedding and the long series of banquets finally came to a close.
At the farewell luncheon, King Robert raised his heavy goblet heroically, clinking it forcefully with Euron's. The clang and the spilled wine were not just for friendship, but an endorsement of his words: "Anchors Unbound by Ports, Blades Unafraid of Land."
After the meal, the nobles gathered in King's Landing began to disperse like a receding tide. East, West, South, North—various banners fluttered in the wind as convoys set off one after another, returning to their respective territories and orbits.
Robert stood personally at the gates of King's Landing, bidding farewell to every important bannerman and ally. He slapped Ned's shoulder firmly, whispered a few words to Oberyn, and beneath his hearty smile lay a trace of melancholy, not knowing in which year they would meet again.
Euron's convoy also headed north alongside Lord Hoster Tully. Amidst his retinue of hundreds, there was an inconspicuous carriage.
Sitting inside was Allyria from Stoney Sept, tightly holding Bella, the daughter she bore King Robert. They would travel with Euron to Harrenhal, to be settled and looked after by this new lord.
This was both Euron's accountability to Robert and a shelter for the mother and daughter.
Before they left, Robert had vowed to Allyria that he would often visit them at Harrenhal.
But Euron, riding on horseback, held little hope for this in his heart. He knew this King brother too well; his passion came fiercely but left just as quickly. Loving the new and tiring of the old was almost his nature.
Those promises made in moments of tenderness would often eventually dissipate into time and new temptations.