Harlow's house. An ancient and respected family that dates back to the Gray King. The family is strong and rich. Under the rule of the First of the Harlows (this is the official title of Lord Roderick Harlow), there are four minor branches of the family, as well as eight vassal houses. Harlow, in this regard, are the record holders from the "not great" houses of Westeros. The island of the same name, over which their power extends, is very rich and fertile. However, the agricultural product produced is barely enough to feed the island's large population, which is larger than on any other island in the archipelago. Lord Harlow is able to easily field several dozen fully equipped warships, packed with the choicest crews, making them the strongest lords on the islands... after the Greyjoys, of course. The Harlows often opposed the Greyjoys, quite reasonably believing that they were much stronger, richer, more authoritative, and, in the end, no less worthy of supreme power. The Greyjoys managed to smooth out this situation only by regular dynastic marriages through a generation, which eventually turned the competitor into a pillar of power. No family in the Iron Islands would dream of opposing the union of the Greyjoys and Harlows. The forces are so unequal.
Lord Roderick himself is a man in the full bloom of his physical and mental powers. Medium height and the same build, brown eyes that betray a lively mind, and brown hair. He wears a short beard, already touched with gray. With his neat and restrained style, he stands out strikingly from the discordant ranks of his fellow tribesmen, and, on the whole, gives the benevolent impression of a wise, cautious and rational man. All this gave a combination that could not but arouse sympathy.
Roderick is a man of hard fate. The kind that quietly breaks many really strong men in half. His wife died, all his sons died in a senseless war, and his older sisters went crazy from their tragedies. But the lord had enough willpower and inner dignity. After grieving for his family, giving shelter and care to his sisters, he continued to work for the benefit of not only his Home, but also the Iron Islands as a whole. The way he understood and considered it right.
He appointed his cousin, Harras Harlow, as his heir. Also a very... remarkable character. Harras's mother was a girl from the House of Serret, whose territory is located far from the coast, deep in the Western Lands. Having grown up in two cultures, the young man went through all the stages of growing up befitting the Westerosi aristocracy: he was both a page and a squire, drank wine and dirt, and at the end of this path was anointed a knight. That's where the pig is buried. In the Seven Kingdoms, only a heptathlete can become a knight, and no one else. Yes, yes, that's how it turns out. Lord Roderick Harlow's heir, the future owner of all his lands and titles, professes faith in the Seven. He is also the proud owner of a Valyrian steel sword called the Twilight, which Harras used well during Balon's rebellion, calmly turning it against Western lords and knights who share the same faith.
Of course, questions immediately arise, the most censored of which sounds something like: "what exactly is going on?" Why is Harlow dancing with religions and obscure heirs? It's not worth digging deep, because the answer lies on the surface, and all this is a political declaration. The Manifesto of the New Way, of which Lord Harlow is a proponent. It may well be that not in the first generation, given the marriage of his uncle and the lady from Serretes.
A new path is an actual, but not the freshest idea on the Iron Islands. Its meaning is to deny the Old Way. A complete departure from the tenets of the Old Law. Specifically, this is primarily reflected in the acceptance of the social relations prevailing on the mainland. It is worth noting that although the New Way bypasses religious issues (publicly, at least), quite intelligent people such as Lord Harlow are well aware that faith in a Drowned god belongs in a landfill. And it just so happens that Lord Harlow is not just a supporter of this ideology, but the leader of a group of feudal lords interested in these very changes. The feudal lords are not simple, but the largest and richest. For example, the Goodbrothers, who are not so far behind in wealth and influence from the Harlows themselves.
But what motivates Lord Harlow and other supporters of the "New Way" to promote and defend these ideas? Also openly, vividly demonstrating their intentions? Like everything else in this world – power and wealth. It's not for nothing that the largest feudal lords of the islands become supporters of the new one, because they didn't give up all this pirate freedom to hell.
Starting with the most obvious and fundamental thing – democracy. As my Asha explained, the veche meeting is not the most frequent event on the islands. After the destruction of the Hoare and the election of the Greyjoy to the eternal kingdom, it was convened only during a dynastic dispute or succession crisis. The new Reaper lords were chosen exclusively from Greyjoys or their blood relatives.… And then, the last time Harlow laid a bolt on the veche and stupidly tried to enthrone Roderick Greyjoy, the salty son of the Red Kraken. But no luck, not fortanulo. The Lannisters intervened, captured Roderick, castrated him, and made him a buffoon. That's what I understand, how to pay off debts.
And the problem that forced them to take risks and against fundamental values was that such respected gentlemen as Harlow and the Goodbrothers, and riffraff like the Codds, Netleys, Solts and other bastards had the same rights. And the worst part was that they also had equal votes in electing the king or the Lord Reaper. This, by the way, is the reason that Harlow and Goodbrother have a lot of junior houses and vassals, despite the fact that the practice of giving away land is not particularly common on the islands. There's not much land for your beloved, and then you can provide a vassal with a share from which he can feed. Is it worth mentioning how the vassals will vote at the veche? So Harlow doesn't have one vote, but fourteen! The Goodbrothers have nine! Yes, these two families, with a successful scenario, will be able to decide who will be the next king... or rather, they could, until all sorts of riffraff spread.
As soon as Asha chewed all this on one of the wonderful evenings, only one hooligan thought began to beat in my head.
"Oh kurwa! This is not just a pirate republic, but the most piratical Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth! But without guns, Cossacks, and beautiful Poles."
Such circumstances greatly irritated respectable people, but you can live with it. Elections, as already mentioned, are rare, almost once a century, and the issue can always be solved for money by bribing one or another number of pirate lords. However, there is another layer hidden under this upper layer, the existence of which, apparently, Lord Roderick himself may not realize.
The good thing about the old law is that it equalizes the rights of all ironborn. Each of them has the right to hire on any vessel, participate in a raid and claim a share of the loot. This literally saved many islanders and their families from starvation, and it also allows small noble houses to somehow eke out their miserable existence, on whose possessions there is sometimes no one but seals. But for large feudal lords, the Old Law is not just unnecessary, but radically harmful!
What's the use of fertile land or rich mineral resources if at any moment men from fourteen to fifty living on your lands gather in a crowd and go after sea prey? They'll build a filly or join the gang of a minor lord and remember their name from a month to six months. And who, excuse me, is going to plow? On earth, in the mines, to beat the sea beast and, in the end, to pay taxes? Women, old people and children? They can barely feed themselves, much less taxes! Most importantly, as a lord, you can't stop the men from becoming pirates in any way. Nothing at all. Because the Old law says that all believers in the Drowned God are free and free.
Before the formation of the Seven Kingdoms, the situation was saved by slave labor in a more or less familiar form. Slaves brought from the continent were engaged in agriculture, digging mines, felling and drying forests and engaged in handicrafts, while the ironborn fished, beat the sea beast and pirated. Don't blame me, religion doesn't allow for anything else. But even here it's not that simple, because a slave could always believe in a Drowned god and get freedom, and the children of slaves born on the islands were considered free. But the Targaryen Empire hacked and destroyed these "loopholes" along with the Hoare empire.
It was then that the island nobility fully appreciated the charm of the seven gods. After all, the main tenets of faith in the Seven sound very simple and understandable – obey your Father, he is the wisest and knows best. And any lord who is faithful to the commandments of the Seven is almost a direct guide to the Father's will. Plus, there are other cults that perfectly pacify the masses, allowing them to be controlled. Of course, Harlow and Co. wanted to do the same thing at home. To attach people to the land, turning them from free serfs, and to rip into all purses and bins with taxes and fees. The first attempts were back when the Hoars were trying to sit on two chairs. All the Hoare's efforts to introduce Cthulhu into the pantheon of the Seven failed, but the idea is alive. She is not just alive, but has gained more significant and massive support, including through the many young and promising people who were lucky enough to be held hostage by the Westerosi lords after the last uprising.
By nature, the Greyjoys are as interested in change as the Harlows and Goodbrothers, but they don't realize it. At least, the current older generation, represented by Balon and his brothers. And what is it, this new generation of Greyjoys? Two children, Asha and Theon. The boy is being raised by wolves and is already doomed to loneliness among his own people. A girl whose tutor, in fact, is a powerful uncle, Lord Roderick Harlow. A person who will continue to stand behind Asha and, if possible, provide her with all possible support. The natural course of things... or not?
Today, the Iron Islands, like Westeros as a whole, are going through crucial and difficult times. All future events are derived from the deep processes taking place in the Seven Kingdoms, and by no means the will of individual odious personalities.
Asha again provided me with all possible help, albeit unconsciously, in sorting out fragmentary information. I did not stop persistently but unobtrusively besieging this sea fortress. Nothing unusual for a twenty–first-century man-in my "other" days, this would have been called light courtship. Walking along the fortress walls of the Red Castle. Picnics and intimate conversations in the Godswood, where we shared childhood memories and experiences. And we had a lot to tell each other. We are children of the same era and the same time. We both survived the sieges of our homes, and loved ones suffered and died before our eyes. Breaking up with my brothers, albeit for different reasons, and, in fact, living alone. In those moments, in the rays of the setting sun, it seemed as if two lonely children had found each other. We were clearly getting closer, and it's not about the physical side of the issue at all.
Militant Asha, accustomed to the fact that any ship is an enemy, and unknowingly living according to the precepts of her father. The cruel world around her reinforced these tenets over and over again. Nevertheless, she began to relax a little in my presence. Not in terms of public morals, of course. Asha is certainly a dashing soul and a pirate with a capital letter, but she also remains a young girl. And in calmer circumstances, she began to show herself as such. I could clearly see how, for all her bravado and ostentatious pride, Asha was burdened by her role as a substitute for the boy heir. Maybe if you let her live in this for a while longer, she'll melt into this role. Now, she is inextricably mixed with unquenchable sadness and longing for her younger brother, whom she continued to love (and every time she got mad at her father when he started to vilify Theon out loud), uncertainty about her future and anger.
Anger at everyone.
At her still-beloved father, who sees her as a different person. A mother who, in her grief for her dead sons, had completely forgotten about her daughter. To the uncles on the father's side. A quarrelsome, mean-spirited and insidious sadist, Euron, who constantly muddies the waters in the family, pushing the heads of its members together and does not recognize any authority. And especially Asha was angered and frankly scared, which made his anger flare up brighter, his greasy glances in her direction. The blockhead Victarion, who is being turned around like a calf. The religious madman Eyron…
Is it any wonder that in such a situation, Lord Roderick became one of the closest people to Asha? A balanced and sane adult with a mind and character, and not just the number of years he has lived, he has become an educator and a strong support in life for a young girl. Not immediately, but gradually, phrase by phrase, a mosaic began to take shape regarding Asha's worldview. More than power, fame, and recognition, the young lady dreamed of a family. The way she remembered it–big and friendly. A strict but fair father. A proud but loving mother. Strong but kind older brothers to their little sister. The cute little brother she helped to take care of. Bright and warm memories of the past. A past that cannot be returned.
Asha helped me not only to better understand her family and people, but also to drag Lord Roderick to the meeting. As it turned out, Harlow avoided not only me, but in general all the local sabantuys and soirees. Of course, this is true only for those noble drinking gatherings that did not relate to his mission in one way or another. He's just such a person, not the most sociable. He does not like feasts and noisy companies, but prefers a book to a good feast or conversation. And, just as importantly, he doesn't really care who thinks about it or what.
And that's what, and Harlow respects books – it's not for nothing that he was nicknamed the "Reader" on the islands. Naturally, in those parts, such a nickname did not carry a positive connotation, but other people's "extremely important" opinions were balanced and more than outweighed by the fact that Roderick was an authoritative ruler both in his lands and among other lords of the archipelago. His authority and strength do not muzzle except the adherents of the Old Way, who are traditionally extremely generous with insults. But to directly oppose the First of the Harlows? They don't dare to do that.
"Lord Roderick, it is a great honor for me to greet you personally. - We are sitting at a solid round table in my living room. Lady Sirena, as always, splurged on numerous delicious dishes, according to recipes, to which I also added a few piquant touches. – I am very glad that you have accepted my invitation.
"I am grateful for your hospitality, Your Grace.
Roderick had a very phlegmatic personality, without obvious external manifestations. Calm and restrained, but no, no, but squints at Asha, who unexpectedly, including for me, took a seat closer to me. Lord Harlow's paternal instincts have clearly not atrophied... no, it is possible that they have even become more acute, given that we are talking about a young girl here. And if Asha only grinned merrily at her uncle's sharp gaze, then I fell into a prostration of memories. How many times have I already met the parents of girls and their future ex-wives? It's decent. I'll tell you frankly that it's impossible to get used to it.
"Asha has told me a lot about you, Lord Renly. The voice of the master of the Ten Towers flowed smoothly and steadily, demonstrating a disposition to conversation, but at the same time, a certain wariness. - In particular, about your extreme interest in this conversation and your desire to resolve the issue with which we arrived in the capital. Which surprised and puzzled me to a large extent. The Lord Hand had previously assured me of the priority of our petition's consideration by the small council. Not to mention the solution itself.
After that, two interested glances converged on me. I didn't tell Asha about my plans, no matter how hard she tried. And sometimes she tried very hard, if you know what I mean. At that moment, Lady Serena's daughters, Beatrice and Lucia, appeared in the refectory, carrying our dinner on trays. Pork tenderloin in a thick Cormarier wine sauce, which has already been called "Baratheon's", rabbit and chicken stewed in herbs, served with blackberry sauce, rainbow trout with oranges and pomegranate sauce, as well as several other appetizers, like stewed fennel with ginger, which I can't stand, but the locals really like it.. Vigmar followed the girls in with a full jug of chilled wine and delicate goblets.
"I'm afraid, Your Grace," I didn't wait for the girls to finish setting the table, and continued the conversation, "that you have overly high hopes for the ability of the Lord Hand in particular and the small council in general to solve problems.
In response, Lord Roderick gave me a long look with intelligent and equally tired eyes. It was obvious that the conversation was unpleasant and burdensome to him. I don't want to admit it once again, but his attitude is not without its logic, because for him I am just the younger brother of the king, endowed by chance with enormous power, with unknown ambitions and already known conflicts at court. And he clearly did not want to become a figure in someone else's political game. And not so much …
Very unexpectedly, Beatrice, who had elusively finished arranging the dishes a moment ago, squealed between Asha and me and abruptly straightened up, covering her butt with her hands. Beatrice's face rapidly turned a charming shade of crimson, and she herself, frozen like a pillar of salt, stared at me. Her eyes are wet, she turns red, then pale... it seems that the word "panicking" would not even be an exaggeration in her case.
"It's okay, Beatrice.
I took the girl by the hand, summoning as soft and calm a voice with a smile as I could. Important conversations are not enough for me, so now I also need to calm down a girl with a medieval mentality.
- Calm down, it's just that Lady Asha is showing sympathy in this way. That's it, go ahead.
"P-p-excuse me, sir," Beatrice stepped back from the table and bowed deeply. "My Lord." My Lady.
After waiting for the moment when the girl left our company, I stared at Asha. As expected, she smiled playfully, showing even pearly teeth. I admired it after all. Still, it will take a while to get used to such charming paintings.
- Please, help yourself. Lady Sirena is a recognized master of culinary skills! - I did not ask stupid questions about why and why Asha pinches the ass of my maids, because everything is clear. "My Lady won't let me embellish or lie here. Isn't it?
- Ugumpf, - Asha wasted no time and, having picked up her left leg under herself, she had already cut off a large slice from the loin, fully concentrating her attention on it.
Rodrik, observing such uninhibited and, worse, "domestic" behavior of his niece, was in mild shock. This was evident from his slightly confused expression and wide-open eyes, which seemed to be absorbing the situation. After a while, Lord Harlow sighed heavily and slightly hunched his shoulders, acknowledging the surrender to the manners of the ward. I wonder how many difficult conversations these two had? She might be a captain, and she might be a Greyjoy, but Rodrick was probably trying to smooth over her behavior somewhere. Do I see the result of a huge defeat today, or could Asha have been even worse? That's a good question, but for another time. We should get back to business. Moreover, the nimble Wigmar had already poured wine for everyone.
- Your Grace, - he held out the cup in the direction of the guest, - for the acquaintance!
Harlow nodded, echoing me, and we clinked glasses together. After taking a couple of sips, the lord and I finally paid tribute to Lady Serena's culinary talents. The loin really turned out well. After stewing in the sauce for a long time, the meat became so tender that it literally stratified into fibers, perfectly soaked in the sauce itself, which obviously spared no spices, and imbued it with its taste. Oh, spices are a separate topic, perhaps. It turned out to be much easier to teach someone about this miracle than to instill the idea of its moderate use (however, I'm not complaining). It would have included Mexican tortillas, beans, corn, hot pepper, and it would have made a good taco, albeit an unconventional one. It's just as flattering to say about trout. However, here I overdid the spices in my instructions and instructions, which is why either cinnamon or coriander was given a slight bitterness in the pomegranate sauce.
Lord Roderick tasted the dishes presented in front of him with great interest. It was noticeable that the lord was unaccustomed to such a volume of spices and richness of taste, which is why he more often than usual applied himself to a cup of wine, cleansing the receptors.
- The rumors about your... ward's talents don't lie. Vigmar, catching the non–verbal hint, poured more wine for Harlow. – The cuisine is indeed worthy of kings.
- Thank you for such a high assessment, Your Grace. – Putting his right hand to his heart, he nodded to the guest. – I dare to share my creative plans with you. Lady Serena and I are working on a collection of recipes, including those from different regions of our kingdom. You are known to be a well–educated person with an extensive library, so would you be so bold as to share relevant literature with me? About your culture and cuisine.
"Why not?" – Rodrick is clearly interested and even sincere ... although I still hear a slight smile in his voice. "I'd be honored."
Frankly speaking, it was not an honor. The lords are making up a cookbook, what a laugh it will be! But, in our case, the people will perceive it as the whim of the rich. And let them. I still need to somehow popularize the abundant use of spices in cooking. Spice, damn it, master flo.
- However... - Lord Rodrick, after we had all satisfied our first hunger, and Asha's chewing had become quieter, did not want to continue the conversation about anything.
"However, my lord.
I completely agreed with him. After all, this is not the kind of person with whom you need to engage in verbal buffoonery. The person is educated and smart enough to use it.
"The reason for my insistence on meeting you was not limited to demonstrating Lady Serena's abilities.
Asha, following the example of her uncle, put down the instruments and listened attentively to me. I see that even she sometimes finds it hard to get used to the idea that the king's younger brother can not only make dubious jokes.
- I'll be very frank. The Lord Hand at the head of the small council is not focused on solving your problem as soon as possible. Help will be provided. But I'm afraid it won't be as much help as you expected. And certainly not those who are able to significantly influence the situation that is developing in your homeland.
- The reasons?
Harlow didn't explode with emotion. The man was a tough guy, he saw and understood everything perfectly. But making your own conclusions is one thing. And it's quite another thing when they confidently and directly talk about the failure of the event assigned to you.
- I think you understand everything perfectly well.…
"But I'm not!" – That's who this news came as a surprise to, so it was for Greyjoy, who put her hands on the table and abruptly leaned in my direction, menacingly knitting her thin eyebrows. "Why not?" The King must help us! We are his subjects... whatever they are.
Asha instantly frowned. All the colors seemed to have left her, and anger and longing settled in her eyes. Seeing her in such a state made my heart ache.
- Personal animosity. - I managed to pronounce these words with difficulty, almost like telling your child that you don't love him. "The royal treasury is subsidized by the Lannisters, and they will never allow them to help the Iron Islands. But the kingdom does not have enough of its own funds, and no one will borrow them for you.
Asha clenched her fists tightly, preparing to explode with anything but bright emotions. Not wanting to do that, I put my left hand on her arm. Risked it? I took a risk. I had to act quickly, because I could get a couple of flattering epithets in my address in the same second, or even something else. In general, I used my smile and the earned credit of trust to the fullest. Watching this scene, the Reader was in no hurry to take the initiative, giving this dubious privilege to your humble servant.
- But there are forces in the capital that oppose such an attitude towards their own vassals, even though there are few of us.
"Us?" Harlow showed true interest again, staring intently at my face. – May I know the names of these honorable people?
"It's not a big secret, Your Grace. I couldn't help but smile ironically. "The whole kingdom knows these names–Renly and Stannis Baratheon.
"Stannis?" Greyjoy's eyes widened. It must have come as a shock to her that a man who scares children on the Iron Islands is trying to prevent these very children from starving to death in a couple of seasons.
But it was the truth. For Stannis, the position of the small council is a blatant betrayal of his own subjects. But as a man of duty and oath, he will act as he is ordered, as long as these orders do not concern his primary feudal interests. Legist to the core.
"That's right," I smiled encouragingly again, "for my brother, there is no past and no future, and good deeds do not cancel out bad ones. But the opposite is also true. Regardless of what happened in the past or may happen in the future, the Iron Islands are vassals of the Iron Throne. This already implies his direct duty to provide all-powerful support. Otherwise, what's the point of it? I completely agree with my brother on this.
He turned his head away from Asha and met Lord Rodrick's attentive gaze.
- I want and I can help. – Releasing Asha's palm, he leaned back in his chair and fully focused his attention on the person responsible for making decisions.
"The price?" The reader caught the gist, and understanding of the situation flashed in his eyes.
- Cooperation. Harlow nodded curtly, inviting me to continue and clarify. – Do you know anything about my enterprises?
Harlow stroked his beard thoughtfully. – You have equipped an entire flotilla for the Summer Islands, which promises great profits.
- Would you be surprised if I told you that this is the first, but not the last expedition to the south?
The reader smiled faintly and, after a moment's thought, continued. – Are you looking for an opportunity to get more ships?
Asha snorted loudly, remembering our arguments about the dowry.
- Yes and no. I understand perfectly well that trying to hire Ironborn as merchants is almost a vulgar idea. Few of you will agree. Pride, if not pride. Your people are pirates, but not mercenaries.
Harlow did not become theatrically indignant or offended. The truth is the truth, and he perfectly understood the meaning of what was said. Meanwhile, I continued to express my thoughts.
- That's why I decided on the idea of partnership in order to share the risks and profits. It won't be long before the oligarchs and pirate magnates of the East see my humble enterprise as a threat to their monopoly. Their reaction is predictable – raids and interception of my ships. And if the flotillas going to the Summer Islands can still stand up for themselves, then you can forget about single ships going to sea, they will not reach any destination. The Royal Navy is strong, but not omnipotent, and certainly not omnipresent. And a ship from the Iron Islands has a much better chance, thanks to its... specific reputation and skills.
The master of the Ten Towers, after listening to me, plunged into thought. Asha quieted down and watched us, pecking at the rabbit.
"You're suggesting a gamble, Your Grace.
Having apparently come to some conclusion, Lord Rodrik returned to the conversation without changing his posture. He's calm, almost detached. But it's clear that someone else's mind has really come alive and is working on different ideas, options... he's still interested.
- You underestimate the Ironborn's stubbornness, who don't even want to think about cooperating with anyone from the mainland. Especially as charterers.
- It depends on how to arrange it. Not hiring a ship, but equal cooperation with the captain. Take each one as a share of a specific event. Payment is either in silver or in part of the product. Plus the loot and captured vessels of the oncoming "pirates". To transport the cargo from one point to another, where my people will already take care of the goods, get a decent bonus, and even send a couple of daring poor devils to the bottom of the sea. Who in their right mind would reject such a thing?
Seeing that Harlow wanted to say something, he raised his hand, non-verbally asking me to listen to me a little more.
- For the people of the Iron Islands, this is a good, if not the best, prospect to pursue their usual craft without fear of the royal Navy and justice. For the mainland, you will no longer be pirates, but defenders of the Westeros trade with a... reputation. I'm sure few people will agree at the beginning, but once the first rumors about the successes of the daredevils reach the archipelago, there will be a lot of people willing. I'm sure of it. Silver, loot, military glory, recognition. What more could a true ironborn want? I just give them the opportunity to realize themselves and finally integrate into a changed world, rather than vegetate on its outskirts.
"What exactly are you suggesting, my lord?" – It was obvious how the phlegmatic lord caught fire with the idea, even though he tried to hide it. He was clearly thinking about how to turn everything to his advantage.
- I have outlined all my proposals in more detail on paper. Obeying my gesture, Vigmar handed me a large sealed envelope from the bedside table, containing a dozen sheets sewn and handwritten by me. – Here's a start – all the food you need is in warehouses in the upper reaches of the river Slane. Unfortunately, I do not have my own ships for cargo delivery. I hope, as a friendly gesture, I won't be denied a small favor?
"Not anymore, Your Grace. – The reader let on a faint smile, illustrating the understanding of the rapidly developing composition. "Not anymore.
***
Lord Harlow and I couldn't stop discussing various aspects of our future cooperation for a long time. From shares and risk allocation to a certain political patronage. After all, I'm much closer to the upcoming "theater of operations" than Harlow or anyone else from the Iron Islands.
Harlow promised that he would consider all my suggestions and would definitely give them a response when he arrived home. Fortunately, he is one of the few lords of the Iron Islands who is served by a maester and has mail crows. But he also warned that he could not back down from the will of his master. Until a specific answer is received from the king and the Lord Hand, or there is another reason, Harlow will remain in the capital, and he has no right to resolve such issues alone. If, as a private individual, he can still fit into my projects, then accepting my humanitarian aid no longer depends on him, but on the Lord Reaper.
As soon as Lord Roderick and I switched to the language of numbers and percentages, Asha was clearly bored, which did not prevent her from actively working her jaws. However, what a good appetite, but the princess' sadness quickly disappeared as soon as dessert appeared. Oh, she already knew what was waiting for her. Sirena has completely mastered the technology of custard, which she did not fail to brag about. The semblance of eclairs and profiteroles with berry mousse, as well as waffles vaguely reminiscent of Belgian ones. Yes, the dough is thick and not so airy. Yes, the cream is not so sweet and saturated. But for the locals, it's a real gastronomic orgasm.
We finished our conversation with Harlow closer to midnight. The guest has already packed up, however…
"Uncle," Asha cheerfully raised her head, but she clearly did not plan to meet the Reader's eyes, "don't worry about me. I'll be there in the morning.
Lord Harlow gave Asha and me a look that was both unreadable and well understood. I'm sure, knowing his niece's character, he understood that he couldn't do much. I'm also sure that he really wanted to do something.
"Lord Renly." – The reader bowed his head slightly, saying goodbye.
"Lord Roderick."...