Chapter 153: “Did You Just Sell Me Off?”

Roggerio Rogare left the Dragoncrystal Tower with a look of utter despair. Tigarro had, in fact, kept his promise—he hadn't dealt a fatal blow to the young man. Instead, he had tested seven or eight types of non-lethal poisons on him. Only after Roggerio endured a new variant that caused unbearable full-body itching—his screams echoing through the chamber—did Tigarro finally release him, assuring him that he would not interfere with the Rogare family's plans.

It was only when Roggerio stumbled into his older brother, Lysaro Rogare—who was crawling out of the Dragoncrystaç Tower's training yard, bruised and battered—that the two brothers finally understood their father's intentions.

Lysaro Rogare had ultimately accepted Sebastion Pyrebane's suggestion in pursuit of their final goal.

Sebastion had used the varying attitudes of House Vaelarys members toward crispbread soaked in hot broth and cream to subtly hint to Lysandro that, of all his efforts, the most effective approach was still the Wife's Route. He also provided a solution to the longstanding hatred the Five Fingers had for the Lyseni—a simple one: selling his own sons.

After all, among those in the Five Fingers who held personal grudges against Lyseni, Hoffa was a "stubborn piece of scrap iron". He never mixed personal vendettas with House Vaelarys affairs. If Lysandro approached him, he would either shut the door in his face or inform Draezell outright, rendering the request meaningless.

Sebastion and Tigarro, on the other hand, were not so easily persuaded. While they wouldn't let personal grudges cloud their judgment, they also weren't as tolerant as Hoffa. To appease their wrath, Lysandro decisively offered up his own sons, allowing them to vent their frustrations on them.

Lysaro spread his hands and gave his younger brother a helpless nod.

"Brother… can Father really succeed?" Roggerio still felt the lingering itch, especially after putting on his clothes—making the sensation even more unbearable. Were it not for his pride, he would have stripped them off entirely and walked out of the tower bare-skinned. Unfortunately, as the legitimate son of a Lyseni Magister, his father had a reputation to uphold. Even in Lys, the City of Desire, nobles did not engage in public streaking.

"He will." Lysandro rubbed his face, wincing. "We've already paid a steep price. Now all that remains is for Prince Draezell to give his approval, and we can return home in peace."

Indeed, the price Lysandro Rogare had offered was considerable. Half of Lys's revenue would be handed over to the Iron Throne's treasury. He had also abandoned his ambition of establishing a Rogare-owned bank in Westeros, opting instead for a partnership with the Silverblood Bank—a financial institution controlled by Draezell Vaelarys and his sister-in-law, the brilliant Sansa Tarly.

Sansa had declined Draezell's proposal of marriage, countering instead with a request for his support in founding her own bank—thus bringing the institution into existence.

Beyond financial concessions, Lysandro had also pledged to fund the construction of a palace for Prince Viserys if he married Larra, cover his royal stipend, and provide three of his sons to serve the royal family:

Moredo Rogare, a master of naval tactics.Lotho Rogare, a multilingual financial prodigy.Roggerio Rogare, an exceptional swordsman and expert in Lyseni artistry.

In addition to benefits for the royal family, House Vaelarys was also handsomely compensated. Lys's ports would be fully open to the Silver Fleet, and borderland prince's trade goods would be exempt from taxation. Lysandro further promised to return all estates and wealth once belonging to House Dargaleon, along with transferring the soon-to-be-bankrupt holdings of the Magister Bambarro to the Vaelarys workshops in Lys.

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Summerfield, the Water Garden

This open-air hall, built entirely of pure white marble, was adorned with exotic flora from Dorne and Essos, arranged in a style said to be inspired by Yi Ti. A winding stream had been dug through the garden, allowing guests to place their food and drinks upon the flowing waters, which carried them to each attendee.

Lady Rogare spoke plainly, listing exactly what her family was willing to pay in exchange for the protection of the Iron Throne and Dragon's Nest. She did not attempt to scheme like the men in her family, nor did she attempt to appeal to sentimentality. She understood that Madam Diplomacy was not about playing such games.

Even so, after she finished speaking, she cautiously glanced at the two ladies before her—and at Sansa Tarly, who was present to accompany the pregnant Lady Diana.

"We sympathize with the plight Lys is facing," Leyla said softly. Neither she nor Diana had touched a single dish from the Waterflow Garden, despite Leyla herself being its true owner. Diana gently waved an eastern folding fan. "But as you can see, House Vaelarys is a vassal of the Iron Throne. Though my husband serves as Hand of the King, even he cannot make decisions on all matters. I will relay your offer to him, but I cannot guarantee success."

Even with just those words, Lady Rogare expressed profound gratitude, warmly inviting the ladies to partake in the delicacies and wine she had brought.

Of course, the two noblewomen merely exchanged pleasantries for a long while before finally bidding their guest farewell.

Once Lady Rogare was gone, Leyla's expression shifted. She clapped her hands, signaling the garden servants to withdraw from the pavilion, ensuring no one else was present before she spoke.

"Sister… His Highness isn't really going to accept House Rogare's proposal, is he?"

Diana smirked slyly, lightly waving her fan.

"In truth, His Highness had already decided to accept their proposal before Lady Rogare extended her invitation." She chuckled softly.

"Keeping them on edge serves two purposes: first, it gives Sebastion and Tigarro a chance for retribution. Second, it allows us to find a more suitable match for young Viserys. After all, he is a dragonrider now. Marrying off a dragonrider is no small matter—it requires a significant price."

She gently caressed the slight swell of her belly, her smile deepening.

"Leyla, while we're on the topic… when will you give Vaelarys another child?"

Caught off guard by the sudden shift, Leyla's face flushed crimson.

"Alright, alright, I'll stop teasing you." Diana waved her fan with a smile before turning her gaze to Sansa. "Sansa, it's not just me saying this, but our eldest sister married Lynn, and now her children are already so big. You really should start worrying about your own marriage. Look at the young men around His Highness—they're all still single. Don't wait until they're snatched away by other women before you start regretting it."

"I've said it many times already," Sansa replied impatiently as she walked over. "All my focus is on the bank right now. By the way, sister, there's something I don't understand. If the Rogare family invests fifteen percent, where are we getting the remaining ten percent?"

"The Iron Bank." Diana did not hide the information. The Iron Bank's envoy, Orys Selasmyr, was right there in the Summerfield, though the Rogares had no idea. He had been discreetly staying within the Vaelarys' Purple Palace during this time, avoiding any public appearances.

"Then the Rogares are doomed." Sansa smirked, clearly enjoying their misfortune. "If they try anything, the Iron Bank will be the first to come after them."

After all, the Iron Bank had lost a fortune by investing in the Greens during the Dance of the Dragons. With the Vaelarys also having substantial deposits in the bank, the Iron Bank had begrudgingly written off part of the Iron Throne's debt to continue their partnership. They had even taken the initiative to send an envoy to negotiate terms.

Since Orys Selasmyr had dealt with the Vaelarys many times before, he was sent once again. Unlike the Rogares, however, this man—who simultaneously held titles as the Sea Lord's envoy, the Iron Bank's representative, and the Black and White House's liaison—had been enjoying the feasts and comforts of the Summerfield for quite some time. He showed no intention of leaving. Naturally, Draezell wouldn't let him be idle either, giving him a nominal position and assigning him to assist Sansa in establishing the Silverblood Bank.

Flame Tower

The tower, shaped like a flickering flame, was normally used to accommodate guests. It housed over a hundred rooms of varying sizes, always illuminated through the night so that no traveler would lose their way.

Viserys gritted his teeth as he followed stealthily behind his brother, the young king, who was hiding behind a pillar. Earlier today, while feeding Aegarax, Viserys had learned the price of his marriage from Aegon, who had come to help with Zarafax. Though the young blue dragon was almost self-sufficient, feeding off the food provided by Aegaras, Rhaegor still made sure to personally care for StarSong in the dragonpit every day—it was, after all, his duty as the Vaelarys heir.

Upon realizing that his marriage had been sold off at a hefty price by his brother and uncle, Viserys nearly lost his mind.

Then, before he could do anything, Aegon had excitedly dragged him away.

"You actually sold me off like this? I'm your brother, Aegon!"

Aegon chuckled mischievously, rubbing his hands together as he put on an exaggerated look of heartbreak. "Viserys, how could you say that? We found you the best match possible."

"Oh, sure," Viserys crossed his arms, eyeing his royal brother suspiciously. "Half of Lys' yearly income, a whole bunch of privileges… If Rhaegor hadn't told me, I wouldn't have even known I was worth so much. Should I be celebrating by stealing a couple of bottles of wine?"

"Go ahead, if you're not afraid of Hoffa," Aegon said, rubbing his hands again before suddenly pointing forward. "Look, here's your bride-to-be."

Viserys turned his gaze downward, just in time to see Larra Rogare stepping out of a room. When the young prince caught sight of her, lifting her silky silver hair and revealing a stunningly beautiful face, his jaw slowly dropped in awe.

Aegon grinned in satisfaction.