Title: The Balance Sheet of a Realm
Title: The Balance Sheet of a Realm
Year and Month: 114 AC, 8th Moon
The journey south from the North was a journey back through the seasons, a slow, deliberate return from the crisp promise of a northern spring to the lush, humid high summer of the Crownlands. The Royal Progress, the Grand Audit of my reign, had lasted nearly two full years. We had departed King's Landing as a new, untested royal family. We returned as the undisputed, unassailable masters of a continent undergoing a fundamental, systemic revolution at my command.
The procession that entered King's Landing was even grander than the one that had departed. It was a victory parade celebrating a new kind of conquest—a conquest of inefficiency, of tradition, of chaos. The smallfolk, who had benefited from my sister Gael's charitable works and the economic stability my policies had brought, lined the streets, cheering with genuine enthusiasm. They cheered for their wolf-queen, Lyanna, who now rode beside me with the quiet confidence of a woman who had won the respect of every great house. They cheered for their twin prince and princess, Jaehaerys and Visenya, now bright, healthy children of four, who waved to the crowds from their gilded carriage.
But most of all, they cheered for their King. I was not a distant figure. I rode at the head of my Kingsguard, my face impassive, my Valyrian steel crown, the Conqueror's crown, on my brow. My sword, Ledger, was at my hip. They saw not a conqueror, but a builder. Not a warrior, but an administrator. They cheered because the granaries were full, the roads were safe, and the realm was at peace. Their loyalty was not born of fear or love, but of the most powerful motivator of all: a tangible improvement in their own quality of life. It was a loyalty I had engineered.
My nephew, Prince Daemon, met us at the city gates. He had served as Warden of the Capital in my absence, and the city was a testament to his ruthless efficiency. The streets were clean, the Gold Cloaks disciplined, the usual squalor and crime noticeably diminished. He knelt before me, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Your Grace," he said, his voice carrying a note of theatrical formality. "I return your city to you. I trust you will find the inventory in order."
"I have been monitoring your performance reports weekly, nephew," I replied coolly. "I am aware of the inventory. You have managed this asset well. You are commended."
The rare, direct praise from me clearly pleased him. His ambition was a fire that needed to be fed with recognition and responsibility. I had given him both, and in doing so, had kept his dangerous nature pointed in a productive direction.
The Red Keep, upon our return, felt both familiar and foreign. It was the seat of my power, but after two years of constant travel, of assessing my kingdom firsthand, it felt small, confined. The true kingdom was not this castle; it was the vast, complex network of people, resources, and systems I now controlled.
After a single day of rest and resettlement, I convened the Small Council. It was time to close the books on the Royal Audit and present the final balance sheet to my executive team. I took my seat at the head of the table on the Iron Throne, a position that now felt as natural as breathing.
"My lords," I began, my voice resonating in the throne room. "For two years, we have undertaken the most comprehensive audit of this realm in its history. I have returned with my findings. We will now review the state of our enterprise, department by department."
I started with the reports from those who had remained in the capital. "Prince Daemon. Your report on the city of King's Landing."
Daemon stood, a swagger in his step. "The city is secure, Your Grace. The Gold Cloaks are now ten thousand strong, the most disciplined force in the Seven Kingdoms. Crime has been reduced by sixty percent. The new sanitation ordinances have been… rigorously enforced. The people are orderly. And the treasury has benefited from the fines levied against those who resisted the new order." He smiled thinly.
"Efficiency and profitability. Excellent work, nephew," I said with a nod. "Lord Corlys. Your report on the state of our naval assets."
The Sea Snake rose, his face a mask of pride. "The Royal Fleet is at its peak strength. The Dragon Fleet is now fully operational, with Prince Viserys proving a capable, if cautious, administrator. More importantly, the fortress of Aegar's Pride in the Stepstones is complete. As per your directive, we have begun selling 'convoy protection charters' to merchants from the Free Cities. Our anti-piracy operations have become a significant source of revenue. We have monetized maritime security."
He understood my philosophy perfectly.
"Lord Beesbury," I continued. "The treasury."
The old Master of Coin, now more confident in my methods, stood with a thick ledger. "Your Grace, the numbers are… unprecedented. The Northern Prospectus, even in its early stages, has increased crown revenue from that region by four hundred percent, primarily through tariffs on timber and iron exports from White Harbor. The agricultural reforms in the Reach have stabilized grain prices across the entire continent, and the royal granaries are already at fifty percent capacity after only one harvest season, providing us with a surplus that guarantees against any famine for the next five years. The new trade with Dorne is… well, Prince Qoren's 'King's Peace Red' is now the most fashionable wine at court, and our merchants are reaping the rewards. The Crown has never been more solvent."
I listened to each report, absorbing the data, my mind processing the immense success of the initiatives I had set in motion. The machine was working. The growth was exponential.
When they were finished, I stood. It was time for my own report. The CEO's address to the board.
"My lords, you have managed the capital well in my absence. But the true state of the realm can only be seen firsthand. My audit has been… illuminating."
I proceeded to give them a kingdom-by-kingdom breakdown of my findings and my new directives, a verbal tour of the new Westeros I was building.
"The Riverlands," I began. "For centuries, a land of floods and feuds. The Trident Reclamation Authority is now underway. The first of the great canals is being dug. Within a decade, that land will be the most fertile and navigable in the world. Lord Tully, once a man clinging to ancient traditions, is now the most enthusiastic dam-builder in the Seven Kingdoms because he has seen the projected increase in his own tax base. Their internal squabbles are being replaced by a shared engineering project. We have replaced grievance with purpose."
"The Westerlands. A house built on a fading resource. The Lannisters believed their power was in their mines. I have taught them that their true power is in their gold as capital. The Bank of Casterly Rock, backed by the Iron Bank and the Iron Throne, opened six months ago. It is already financing trade ventures across the south. The Royal Guild of Artisans in Lannisport is producing luxury goods that are the envy of Essos. The Lannisters are learning that it is more profitable to be a banker than a miner. Their loyalty is now tied not to pride, but to the financial systems I have created."
"The Reach. Our breadbasket. Their bounty was a gift of the gods, and therefore unreliable. My Realm's Granary Initiative has turned their bounty into a predictable, manageable commodity. We now control the food supply. We have ended the concept of famine. In doing so, we have made every man, woman, and child in this kingdom dependent on the Crown's foresight and generosity. That is a form of power far more absolute than any army."
"The Stormlands. A kingdom of warriors without a war. Their martial spirit was a wasted asset. The Iron Shield Initiative is transforming their feudal levies into a professional, standing army. The first of the Royal Military Academies has opened at Storm's End. Lord Boremund's own second son is its first cadet. We are professionalizing their strength, standardizing it, and binding it to the career path and pay of the Crown. The Stormlords will still lead, but they will lead as officers in my army, not as feudal warlords."
"The Vale. A fortress of honor and tradition. Their system of justice was a chaotic mess of duels and superstition. My Decree on Judicial Standardization has been implemented. Lady Jeyne Arryn now presides over a court of royal magistrates. Justice in the Vale is now predictable, evidence-based, and swift. Their honor remains, but their laws are now mine."
I paused, letting the sheer scale of the social, economic, and military engineering I had accomplished sink in. I had audited every kingdom and found it wanting. I had restructured each one, not by force, but by introducing a superior, more logical, and more profitable system.
Finally, I spoke of the North. "And the North. The great, sleeping giant. For a century, it was a sullen, distant vassal. Now, it is our full partner. The Northern Development Plan is underway. They are no longer just a shield against the cold; they are becoming an economic powerhouse in their own right. But more than that…"
I looked around the room, my gaze piercing. "Through my marriage to Queen Lyanna, and through the birth of my son Jaehaerys and my daughter Visenya, I have done more than build roads. I have bound the ice of the First Men to the fire of Old Valyria. I have unified the two great magical traditions of this continent in a single, unassailable bloodline. My heirs will not just rule this land. They will be this land."
I walked to the foot of the Iron Throne and placed my hands upon its cold, barbed arms.
"This audit is now complete," I declared. "The reports have been filed, the restructuring is underway. The Seven Kingdoms—the Six Kingdoms, and our new economic partner in the seventh—are now aligned. The new age has begun. An age of reason, of order, of growth. An age of profit. My age."
The council was silent, overwhelmed. They were not just my advisors anymore. They were the regional managers of a continental enterprise whose vision was so grand, so absolute, it was almost terrifying.
That night, for the first time since my return, I took to the sky on Balerion. We climbed high above the sleeping city, the Conqueror's crown on my head, the cold, clean air a welcome relief. Below me lay my kingdom, my company, my perfectly balanced sheet.
Balerion's reply was not in words. It was a feeling, a deep, rumbling sense of ancient power and satisfaction. He had been the instrument of a conquest of fire and blood a century ago. Now, he was the instrument of a new kind of conquest, one of logic and will.
He let out a single, triumphant roar that echoed across the sleeping city. It was not a sound of war or rage. It was the sound of a king surveying his domain, of a master who was in complete and utter control of his world. The balance sheet of the realm was written. And every entry, every sum, every final calculation, was mine.