Chapter 394: A Hard Line

Just as Arianne had said, when Lynd arrived outside the Iron Bank, he saw a group of richly dressed individuals being dragged out and thrown into small boats that had been prepared in advance, ready to be escorted to the Lorne military camp for interrogation.

When Lynd approached, both the Braavosi waiting in the square and the Lorne soldiers maintaining order immediately recognized him by his distinctive armor.

The worshipers of the Storm God, the God of Calamity, the God of Magic, and the Faith of the Seven among the crowd all saluted Lynd according to their own rituals. The followers of the Storm God and the God of Calamity were the most dramatic, prostrating themselves fully on the ground in reverence.

As Lynd, flanked by royal guards, walked up to the entrance, a guard loudly announced, "King of the Lornish, Andal, Rhoynar, and First Men, Sovereign of the Seven Kingdoms, the Narrow Sea, and the Free Cities, Prince of the Kingdom of Lorne, Heir to the Valyrian Freehold, Chosen and Incarnation of the Gods, Founder of House Tarran and its Dynasty — His Grace King Lynd Tarran has arrived!"

At the sound of this grand proclamation, all the noise within the Iron Bank's hall immediately ceased.

As Lynd passed the guard, he paused slightly and asked, "Did you come up with that string of titles yourself, or was it an official order?"

"Your Grace, it was personally decreed by the two queens," the guard answered earnestly.

Lynd smiled and shook his head, then strode into the Iron Bank's great hall.

The hall was packed. Nearly all the major merchants and nobles of Braavos had gathered, because the outcome of this negotiation would determine Braavos' position and rights within the burgeoning empire.

Though they hoped to be treated like Qohor and Norvos, they knew that was unlikely. After all, they had surrendered after defeat, unlike Qohor and Norvos, who had voluntarily submitted. Their only hope now was that they could at least keep control of the Iron Bank — all their fortunes were stored there. If the Iron Bank were confiscated and Queen Nymeria refused to recognize their deposit certificates, it would spell ruin for them all.

At first, they had hoped that collective pressure might force the two queens to soften their stance. But after the House of Black and White exposed an assassination plot against the queens, and more than a dozen Keyholders and Magisters were seized by the guards, it became clear that their leverage was gone.

The arrival of Lynd, however, rekindled a faint glimmer of hope. In the past, Lynd had rarely interfered directly with the governance of Free Cities he absorbed, allowing local nobility to continue managing administration and finances while he simply appointed overseers and took control of military forces. Maybe Braavos, they thought, could end up like Pentos, Myr, or Lys.

But Lynd's reaction quickly dashed those hopes. As he entered the council hall, everyone stood and saluted him, including the two queens. They stepped aside, inviting him to preside over the meeting.

Lynd, however, only waved them back to their seats, looked around at the Magisters and Keyholders, and said, "Nymeria, Daenerys, since Braavos is your conquest, how you handle the city is your decision. I am merely a bystander now. Treat me as if I'm not here."

With that, he went to a chair near the door and sat down, clearly removing himself from the proceedings.

The faces of the Magisters and Keyholders froze in disbelief. They all turned to look at Nymeria and Daenerys, their expressions darkening.

Nymeria and Daenerys exchanged a glance, then sat back down at their places. Daenerys, her face expressionless, turned to the Braavosi delegates and said coldly, "We are not here to hear your counteroffers. We are not here for your proposals. We are only here for your obedience. Submit, as true capitulants should."

The hall erupted in shocked murmurs. Before, negotiations had gone back and forth regarding the Iron Bank and the structure of governance. If not for the High Priest of the House of Black and White exposing the assassination plot — leading to half the Keyholders and Magisters being seized — Nymeria and Daenerys might not have changed their stance so drastically. Now, they demanded unconditional acceptance of the new administration. As for control of the Iron Bank — that was no longer even a subject for discussion.

Although on the surface it seemed that the change was triggered by the assassination plot, everyone in the council chamber understood that it was Lynd's arrival that had truly shifted the balance. With Lynd present, Nymeria and Daenerys now had the strength to overturn the table entirely — and no reason to continue indulging the defeated elites of Braavos.

A Keyholder stepped forward, his expression dark, and said, "Your Grace Daenerys, forcibly taking over the Iron Bank and reshaping Braavos' old political structure will not benefit you. It will only plunge Braavos into chaos..."

"Are you threatening us, Lord Berens?" Nymeria straightened up, her gaze cold as she looked at the Keyholder.

The Keyholder immediately defended himself, "Of course not. I'm merely speaking the truth. Surely neither you nor His Grace Lynd wishes to inherit a chaotic, broken Braavos, do you?"

"No, Braavos will not fall into chaos, and the Iron Bank won't stop functioning without you," said Tyrion, stepping forward from behind Daenerys' chair. "You seem to have forgotten—we still have the Miracle Guild. The Miracle Guild will take over the Iron Bank and integrate it into its banking system. Business in Braavos will become even easier, and the city's citizens will enjoy cheaper goods. The new political system will allow commoners to become councilors, consuls, and tribunes. The people of Braavos are eager for this change. Why would they want chaos? So perhaps it's you lot here who truly want to throw Braavos into disorder?"

"Your Grace, I believe some among them are still plotting something. They should all be arrested and interrogated," said Jorah Mormont, who had been reinstated as a Kingsguard, stepping forward with a deep voice.

"No, you can't! You can't do this!" Cries of panic erupted among the gathered leaders.

Several even stood up and knelt before Lynd, desperately pleading for his mercy.

"Have you confiscated their property?" Lynd asked, glancing at the kneeling figures, his question directed at Nymeria and the others.

"No," Nymeria replied with a shake of her head. "All of their assets have been preserved intact, and their holdings within the Iron Bank remain untouched."

Lynd asked again, "Then you forbid them from joining the City Council?"

"No," Tyrion answered quickly. "Not only have we allowed them to join, but we have even reserved seats for them, just like we did in Qohor."

"In that case, why do you all act as though you've lost everything?" Lynd's gaze grew cold as he looked over the governors and Keyholders of Braavos. "Have Nymeria and Daenerys been too gentle, allowing you to forget the most important fact? You are the defeated and the surrendered. Do you know what happens to the defeated and surrendered in other places?"

Silence fell. Fear and panic were written across every face.

Lynd stood up and walked to the center of the hall, surveying the crowd as he spoke, "I have just returned from the Land of Always Winter, north of The Wall. There, the White Walkers have gathered an army of over ten million wights and are advancing toward The Wall. The Long Night approaches, and eternal winter is coming. In just a few years, the extreme cold will sweep down from the Shivering Sea, covering the entire continents of Westeros and Essos. Every day, I think about how to save as many lives as possible from this cataclysm, about how to defeat the White Walkers and ensure humanity's survival. But you? Here you are, squabbling over scraps of power and privilege, demanding rights from your conquerors as if you had any to bargain with. Who gave you the gall to be so arrogant, so foolish?"

Lynd's voice was calm, as if he were discussing trivial matters over wine, but every word struck like a hammer. A crushing, invisible pressure seemed to descend upon the chamber, making legs tremble uncontrollably. Some couldn't even stay standing, collapsing heavily onto the floor.

"Take them all away. There's no need to reserve any council seats for them. If they want to become councilors, tribunes, or consuls, let them compete with the rest of the city's citizens," Nymeria said as she stood, making the final decision. "Also, have the crowd outside disperse. If anyone wants to withdraw money from the Iron Bank, they'll need to bring their certificates tomorrow."

Daenerys also stood up and added, "If they wish to leave, let them go. Do not stop them. But once they leave, they will not be allowed to enter any city or territory under our control."

"Yes, Your Grace," the guards responded in unison. Under the leadership of Jorah Mormont and Barristan, they quickly drove the former masters of the Iron Bank and Braavos out of the council hall.

The merchants waiting in the outer hall, seeing this scene, realized that the Iron Bank had indeed changed hands and fell into deep despair.

However, when they heard that they could still retrieve the money they had stored in the Iron Bank, their panic quickly eased, and many breathed a long sigh of relief.

When only Lynd, Nymeria, Daenerys, and their close companions remained in the council chamber, the surrounding guards withdrew, leaving them alone.

"I never imagined you would end up the ultimate victor of that damn war, sitting upon the Iron Throne," Tyrion said, stepping up to Lynd, looking up at him, and bowing formally. "It's truly a pleasure to see you again, Your Grace."

"I'm happy to see you too, Lord Tyrion," Lynd replied with a small nod. "It looks like life has treated you well."

Tyrion chuckled and said, "It has indeed. My employer is generous and has given me plenty of trust."

With that, he turned and bowed respectfully to Daenerys.

Lynd glanced between Daenerys and Nymeria and said, "I heard a rumor—that I would follow Aegon the Conqueror's example and take two wives. One of them would be Daenerys, the Queen of Dragons. Nymeria, my wife, aren't you going to explain this to me?"

"You don't want to?" Nymeria countered.

Lynd didn't answer. Instead, he turned to Daenerys and asked, "And you, Daenerys? Have you truly decided to marry me?"

"Yes," Daenerys nodded. "I believe it's the best choice for me."

Lynd nodded as well. "In that case, let's marry. Let's go to the Sept of the Seven here in the city and take our vows immediately."

"So soon?" Nymeria frowned. "Our statuses are different now. Shouldn't we have a proper ceremony...?"

Lynd raised his hand to interrupt her. "There's no time. The war at The Wall could break out at any moment. We must keep the ceremony simple."

It was the first time Nymeria had seen Lynd so impatient, and she immediately asked, "Is it true what you said earlier—that the White Walkers have an army of tens of millions of wights?"

Lynd nodded. "It's true."

"Tens of millions of wights? How are we supposed to fight that?" Tyrion exclaimed, unable to contain his shock.

Daenerys also showed a trace of worry and asked, "You mentioned the Long Night and the coming of the eternal winter. Is that truly happening?"

"Yes," Lynd confirmed. "It's real."

"In that case, wasn't conquering Braavos a waste?" Daenerys hesitated, then said, "According to what you said, when the Long Night and the eternal winter arrive, Essos will also be frozen. Braavos is so far north—it will be among the first to fall. We'll have to abandon it eventually. Why bother investing here?"

Lynd sighed. "Because all of this is still only my prediction. It's not yet certain. Until the Long Night truly arrives, the world must continue to function as normal. And once the extreme cold covers Essos, the north will no longer be fit for human habitation. We will have to migrate south to Sothoryos. That migration will require massive resources, both human and material. Building settlement points in Sothoryos will require even more resources. That's why Braavos, with all its wealth, must be maintained—to continuously fund our expeditionary efforts."

"Is it really as bad as you say?" Tyrion asked, clearly worried.

"It's truly that bad," Lynd answered firmly. "After the last Long Night, a brilliant ancient civilization was destroyed. To survive the catastrophe, the survivors turned to the mysterious gods who could create storms, offering sacrifices. In the end, they became the White Walkers."

Nymeria and the others were stunned by the revelation of the White Walkers' origins, their expressions growing grim.