"The second path is a bit more difficult!" Dany sighed, counting on her fingers as she analyzed for them. "First, there needs to be a wise and decisive king who can unite the Seven Kingdoms and fully commit to executing a unified plan.
Second, the maesters must strive to localize foreign goods—meaning they'll need to cultivate spices, black rice, tea, and other crops within Westeros; learn the silk weaving and porcelain techniques of Yi Ti; the precision glasscraft of Myr; and the forging and smelting techniques of Qohor.
Finally, the king must plan industrial layouts based on the specific conditions of the Seven Kingdoms, then mobilize the nation to build a vast industrial chain and encourage the populace to increase Westeros' industrial and agricultural productivity."
Archmaester Perestan looked at Dany approvingly and nodded. "Excellent. That is the true royal strategy!"
Sure, it sounds great—but can you actually do it?
"Can the Citadel replicate the goods of the Free Cities? Glass, mirrors, porcelain, ironworking, textiles—how many of those can you manage?"
"Well…" The old man frowned and thought for a moment. "We can slowly figure it out. We maesters are not afraid of sacrifice. We could send large numbers to explore the Free Cities for a few years—eventually, we'll learn."
Damn, he makes stealing other people's technology sound so refined and noble. That kind of shamelessness is terrifying. And how is this any different from the so-called 'nation of beasts' approach they looked down on before?
"Archmaester," Dany reminded him flatly, "I've heard something—
In Qohor, maesters are even less welcome than Dothraki."
Qohor possesses ancient Valyrian smelting techniques. A maester once tried to steal the method for reforging Valyrian steel and was caught on the spot—not only were both his hands cut off, but the scandal stained the reputation of maesters for a century.
"Take off the chain, ditch the grey robes, put on leather armor and carry a sword—who would know we're maesters?" Archmaester Perestan said proudly.
Fine. With so many maesters at the Citadel, losing a few dozen—or even a few hundred—arms won't hurt much.
Dany frowned. "In all the Citadel's thousands of years of history, haven't you mastered any core technologies?"
"What do you mean by core technologies?"
"Things that others lack, but which can be turned into great profits."
"Hmm… Let me think."
The old maester fell into deep thought. The other archmaesters did the same. The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
After a long while, the old man finally shook his head and sighed. "Truthfully, we do know a bit about forging, smelting, glass, textiles, and the like—but we're not as skilled as those in the Free Cities."
So basically, you said nothing useful.
"In that case, there's only one option left."
"Oh? A third path?" The archmaesters looked over in surprise.
Lady Leila had previously proposed two developmental routes—one righteous, one shady—both quite feasible. This made them eager to hear her third suggestion.
"Let the Iron Throne and the nobles keep messing around. When they've spent the last gold dragon, declare bankruptcy and restructure."
"Uh… what does bankruptcy and restructuring mean?" asked Archmaester Perestan, confused.
"The previous kings and lords step down. Invite the largest creditors to King's Landing to serve as the new kings and lords.
For example, the current regent queen dowager happens to be widowed and unmarried—why not import a major shareholder from the Iron Bank of Braavos to be her new husband? That would instantly resolve the Iron Throne's financial crisis."
"This—" Perestan's old face scrunched up like a steamed bun. He wanted to refute Dany's nonsense, but when he thought carefully…
"The Iron Bank chews people up and spits out bones," one maester shook his head. "Follow your plan, and in a few decades Westeros will be in Braavosi hands."
"Then don't marry someone from Braavos. Go to Qohor and find a great noble—bring him and his advanced smelting techniques to King's Landing as the new king. Once you've learned their ironworking methods, wait for the right moment…"
Dany made a throat-slitting gesture. "After all, Queen Cersei is pretty experienced with that kind of thing."
"How is she experienced?" Perestan asked, bewildered.
"Heh. How do you think King Robert died?"
"Uh…"
Dany continued her rotten idea. "Then let Queen Cersei go to Myr and find a third husband, then to Tyrosh or Yi Ti for a fourth, a fifth…"
The old maester shook his head, cutting her off. "Impossible. Others aren't fools—they wouldn't allow their core technologies to leak. And with Cersei's personality, where she refuses to suffer even the slightest loss, not only would she never agree, she'd probably behead anyone who suggested this plan."
"If this won't work, and that won't either, then what do you suggest?" Dany leaned back in her chair and asked coolly.
Trade deficits are hard to fix even in the modern world—otherwise, the Americans wouldn't have gone so berserk in recent years.
If even the mighty United States decided to throw away its dignity, how can you sit here nitpicking, hoping to solve the problem through honor and credit?
"Let's keep discussing."
By evening, the meeting ended. The archmaesters had racked their brains but ultimately found that Lady Leila's three "not-so-reliable" methods were the most feasible.
The others prepared for an all-nighter, determined to come up with the perfect solution—but Dany left before dinner.
She had intended to find Petyr for a chat, but when she asked in the adjacent lounge, she learned that he'd left the Steward's Hall earlier in the afternoon with Wargref.
When she returned to the Quill and Cask tavern for dinner, Dany was startled to see a one-eyed rider toss two silver coins to Emma, then grin and wrap an arm around her daughter Rosy, leading her upstairs to the bedrooms.
Nearby, a sailor leered after Rosy's retreating figure and asked Emma, "Didn't you say before that tasting little Rosy's flower cost a full gold dragon?"
"That was her first night."
Before the well-endowed barmaid could respond, a scholarly apprentice sitting alone at a table—none other than the blond young man who had been holding Rosy at noon—smiled and spoke in a soft tone:
"Just the day before yesterday, Count Garland gave me a pouch full of gold dragons. That very night, I took Rosy's virginity. In just two days, her price dropped from one gold dragon to two silver stags. Give it a few more days, and even you dockside paupers will be able to taste the leftovers."
Emma glared at him, and the sailors, who had just been mocked as paupers, looked on with resentment. But none dared curse at the blond youth.
"Ah, Miss Layla!"
"Look! The greatest female knight in the world!"
"Wow, she's the one who crowned herself with the laurels of love and beauty—she's even more beautiful than I imagined."
It was as if an international superstar had appeared on a bustling street. From the moment she stepped through the door, Dany became the center of attention in the hall. Even the musicians who had been singing and strumming instruments immediately changed their tune, performing songs they had composed like The Ballad of Knight Layla and The Laurel of the Armored Knight.
Yes, Dany had nearly surpassed Prince Dragonfly and Jenny of Oldstones and The Dragon Knight and Queen Nerys, stepping into the realm of legendary heroes.
Well, figures like Prince Dragonfly are only considered modern heroes.
True legends are the likes of Florian the Fool and Jonquil, Jormun, King Beyond the Wall (Horn of Winter), Simeon Star-Eyes, and Bael the Bard (Winter Rose)—tales passed down for thousands of years and known throughout Westeros.
Amid the gasps of astonishment from the other diners, the "legendary hero" Dany walked straight to the young man's table and sat down.
"Are you from House Tyrell of Highgarden?" she asked.
The blond youth looked stunned for a moment before blushing and stammering, "My name is Leo Tyrell, cousin to Duke Mace Tyrell. Miss Layla, you're truly brave. I saw with my own eyes how you bested both Count Garland and Ser Dickon. You're also stunning—on the tournament grounds, you shone like the sun."
Not bad, this young man. His character aside, his awareness is really top-notch!
"Leo, I know Pet. We're somewhat acquainted," Dany said flatly.
"Uh..." Leo froze for a moment before realizing—the lady knight was standing up for "Pig Boy" Pet?
Damn it. I'll book Rosy again tonight just to blow off some steam.
"Miss Layla, that's a misunderstanding," Leo protested. "Although my father holds no lands, he's still the Duke's own brother and serves as commander of the Oldtown guard.
As for me, spending a silver stag on a meal is nothing unusual.
I'm not boasting about my background—just trying to show you that if I really meant to insult Pet, I have the means to do so directly."
"I heard everything just now," Dany said, a glimmer flashing in her eyes, slowly infusing her voice with a hint of draconic force.
Leo's heart trembled. It was as if he'd fallen into an icy pit, his whole body chilled. He blurted out the truth without realizing it:
"That evening, I saw Pet and Rosy arguing by the river. Not long after, Rosy ran off crying.
I found her outside the tavern and asked what happened. That's when I learned they'd broken things off. Pet had decided to give up on love and focus entirely on his studies—hoping to one day earn a chain of his own.
I did often joke in front of him about buying Rosy's first night, but we see each other all the time—why go so far over a barmaid and alienate him and his friends?"
Dany didn't take Leo's words at face value. She later confirmed the story with Rosy's mother, Emma, paying her a silver stag.
Sigh "Of course I want my daughter to have a good life, but her mother's a barmaid, and we don't even know who her father is. What highborn family would ever take her as a bride?
And marrying a common farmer would be worse than staying in this line of work.
I won't lie to you, Miss Layla. Over these twenty years, I've saved up eighteen gold dragons. Even without Rosy supporting me, I'd live comfortably for the rest of my life—far better than any farmer's wife.
As for that 'Pig Boy' Pet...
Heh, maybe he really did love Rosy at one point. But I've met too many 'Pets' in my life.
They all whispered sweet nothings—then left when the music stopped."
Still, Dany felt something was off. She could understand a man losing interest, but Pet hadn't even gotten a chance to try.
If he were infatuated with beauty, dangling the carrot would only make him more obsessed—he wouldn't suddenly give up.
And if he truly loved Rosy, there's no way he'd leave the one he loved to be defiled by another man—unless he was undergoing some sort of intense training.
Too bad this world doesn't have anything like the Heart of Dao under the Hat technique.
After dinner, Dany and the old knight headed back to the Citadel to look up some materials in the library.
Carrying a lantern as they walked along the dark riverside path, Dany asked, "Did Pet seem any different when you saw him this afternoon?"
"Yes. He seemed less timid and defeated... and more composed, wiser... and..." The old knight frowned in thought. "It's hard to describe—not quite unpleasant, but there was a coldness that made me not want to approach him."
Dany's eyes flashed. She nodded firmly.
"There's definitely something going on with Pet."
(End of Chapter)
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