Pre-Chapter A/N: Here we go with another chapter. Here on time! Next five chapters on my patreon(https://www.patreon.com/c/Oghenevwogaga)— same username as here and link in bio.
The day ran out in that vein. Each loan was investigated with a level of detail that I could not help but appreciate, and at the end of it, Parvella put down a three word recommendation that I found myself agreeing with more often than not. She did not have quite the same risk appetite that I did, but her judgement was usually sound and where she was sure something was a loser, I was more inclined to agree with her than to do otherwise. I was now on one of the last requests. A seamstress from Lys. She wanted to go from selling clothes to average merchants to the wealthiest magisters in the entire triarchy.
So she needed capital both to secure the expensive silks, dyes, and labour that would be required, as well as to open shops in the two other cities. Parvella had written a simple "deny" on the recommendation section. The fundamentals were solid, but the competition in the market was cutthroat and while her designs were unique, just because something was unique did not mean it would sell well. The requested amount was five thousand eight hundred dragons.
I sighed and was about to overrule Parvella's recommendations when the door swung open. The old oak gave way, near flying backwards to hit the wall behind it. My neck snapped up, my hand already straying towards the sword at my side. I froze when the intruder walked through and revealed herself to be my wife. At her side, a very sheepish looking Wendwater knight. His head turned to my direction, already bowed in apology.
"So this is where you've gone hiding to," she said, voice sharp and nostrils flaring. Oh, she was pissed.
"I'm not hiding," I said almost instantly. And truthfully, I was not. I hadn't obfuscated my journey here, and definitely had not entered here with any sort of stealth.
"Indeed. Imagine my surprise to walk all about our castle and not be able to find you anywhere with no one having any idea where you'd gone. If a messenger hadn't come to inform me of your presence at the bank, I imagine I would have walked blisters into my feet just looking for you in this city." I looked over at the very unapologetic Parvella. Traitor.
"Okay, Laena. Not here," I said.
"Definitely here. Ser Wendwater, Parvella, please excuse us," she said. Both the Knight and my own Bank Manager practically fled the room at her request. The door swinging shut behind them only slightly less dramatically than it had been opened.
"Why?"
"I needed space. There aren't very many places in the castle that are for me and me alone so I decided to come here and see what work I could get done before the day ends," I said.
"Space from what? From me?"
"To some extent, yes," I said, and was barely prepared for the way her shoulders began to shake.
"Not like that. It's just you said some things that really hurt me and I knew you didn't mean them but they really hurt and I just wanted some time to get away from it all."
"To get away from me, you mean."
"I didn't want to react in a way because I was feeling hurt. Was it not better to give you space while I worked through my shit by myself?" I asked.
"No. Because there's no such thing as your shit or my shit. It's all our shit. You and I, Nor. We're a team and we need to be able to work through anything together. If I said something that made you upset, I want you to tell me. I don't want you to leave our castle to come stay in another woman's office and spend the whole day with her instead," she said.
"Parvella is far more interested in you than she is in me," I shot in to kill that idea before it formed into something ugly.
"I don't care. What I do care about is that you come to me when you have a problem. It doesn't matter if I meant it or not. I hurt you. And do I not deserve a chance to make it better?" she asked.
"I don't think that's how it works. Like I said, how I feel about things is my business. It's up to me to deal with it."
"No. We took those vows in a Sept to become man and wife. We stopped having individual problems from that day. I was wrong to speak to you the way I did. And I was even more wrong to make it seem like you had no business working to help our child come into this world. I'm sorry. I hope you can forgive me."
"There's nothing to forgive," I said.
"No, there is. And will you forgive me? Unless you want your very pregnant wife to go on her knees to beg."
"Don't even joke about that. You are forgiven, Laena. Truly," I said, and after that there was nothing that could keep her hands off me and mine, her.
XXXXX- AEGON TARGARYEN
He did not know how to approach meeting with his Knight this morning. Ser Cargyll said he should just act like he had not heard anything yesterday, but that was only if it was an option. He was no stranger to older people fighting. And sometimes when Mother and Father fought, Mother would try to tell him her side of the story. He did not think he wanted the same with Lord Velaryon.
For one, Lady Velaryon was probably right. He did not truly understand what had caused the fight or what it had even been about and Ser Cargyll refused to explain, but he knew from Mother that ladies were usually right. And Lady Velaryon, as beautiful as she was, could not be wrong, could she? He doubted it.
Lord Velaryon was already waiting for him in the training yard when he arrived. Aegon had heard from some of the servants that he did not sleep. That even in the middle of the night, he could be found either roaming the halls of the castle looking for this or that, or flying on the back of his dragon. Ser Cargyll said not to put stock in the gossip of lowborn. And these were former slaves, so they were even lower than lowborn. It was no fault of their own, of course. It was just the way the gods willed it. Some people were born greater than others. More.
But whether it was the gossip of the lowborn or not, Aegon knew for sure that he had never managed to beat the man here. No matter how early Aegon roused himself, Lord Velaryon would somehow have gotten out of his own bed earlier, and would be practicing the same forms in the empty training field.
"Aegon. Welcome," he said without turning around. Aegon had thought this the proof of his sorcery earlier, but Ser Cargyll said he could probably just hear their footsteps. Aegon couldn't hear said footsteps but some people just had sharper ears, it seems.
"Ser Cargyll," he greeted after he turned around.
"Aegon, before we begin today, I must apologise."
"My Lord?"
"What you witnessed yesterday, it was not proper. A Lord and his wife are guaranteed to have quarrels. Why, our Great-Grandparents were said to have two that became famous across the known world. Still, we should have done better than to unpack our issues with you in the room. For this, I apologise." Aegon did not quite believe what he was hearing. He was apologising for fighting with his wife? No, he was apologising for Aegon seeing it? Why?
Cargyll pushed him from behind and he was torn from his thoughts.
"Um—apologies accepted, my lord," he said. Lord Velaryon nodded before gesturing for him to take his place on the raised platform.
"That reminds me. I have made a change to your schedule. Laena tells me that your High Valyrian is barely passable," he said. Aegon flushed at the reminder. That was what had been happening before Lord Velaryon had come in for breakfast. She had been speaking in only High Valyrian yesterday and Aegon had found it difficult to reply in the same language.
"I apologise for not asking earlier. I had assumed it to be something Viserys or Alicent would see to much earlier. Still an oversight on my part. A letter will be sent out tomorrow. An elocution tutor from Lys will be brought in to help you with not just your High Valyrian, but your common tongue as well, and the various bastard dialects of Valyrian to round things off. She will be taking the time immediately after our martial training so your lessons with the Maesters will all take place in the afternoons and should be much condensed. I have been assured that the detail and thoroughness will not suffer for this, but do inform me if it does," he said, while Aegon struggled to parse the words. So many things at once.
"I don't need a teacher for common tongue. I've spoken it all my life. I don't need to learn bastard Valyrian too," he said finally.
"Your common is basic. You speak more like you learned in Flea Bottom than in a castle. You will find that the Lords of the realm will have wider vocabularies than you do. This will remedy that as well as clean up your accent a fair bit. As for bastard Valyrian, you are a Prince. You might one day be expected to treat with merchants from Lys or Braavos. What do you do then? Seek an interpreter? I think not," he said, and Aegon was now certain that the matter was not up for debate. Lord Velaryon had already made up his mind.
"Now come at me," he said when Aegon remained silent. Aegon nodded, and walked forward slowly. He had been doing this every day for moons now, but he was not getting better. All he did was get smacked around by Lord Velaryon over and over again while the man offered what he thought was helpful advice. But it clearly was not helpful because all Aegon did was lose. It did not matter how many times he minded his footwork, kept his guard up, or watched his lunge because it made no difference at the end of the day. He still ended up on his back at the end of it.
Aegon stabbed out. He had a training sword fashioned for his size specifically and a shield. When the blacksmith had come to measure him, he had been shocked and skeptical, but he could not deny that it made him feel like he had more control when he fought. For all the good it did him though. He still lost all the same.
Lord Velaryon slapped the stab away even as Aegon was already moving on to the next attack. One attack did nothing to Lord Velaryon. Aegon had learned that if he did not chain them together—working on the next motion in his mind even while the present one stood unexecuted—he would turn out to be too slow and he would lose even faster.
He spun, bringing his shield to bear and trying to slam it into Lord Velaryon's knee. He danced out of the way with that light half jump he said he learned from a water dancer. Ser Cargyll had called it foppish behind his back, but then Ser Cargyll had never beaten him either so there was most like to be something about it.
He lashed out with his own blade. Stabbing at Aegon like it was one of those snakes the travelling mummers brought to Bloodstone City. Aegon defended with his shield even as his arm shook from taking the force of the attack. He did not huddle behind the shield.
He already knew what would come next if he did. He pushed out with the shield, pushing against the sword and forcing it to give way before he slashed at him with his own sword. Lord Velaryon did not use a shield when he sparred with Aegon. Preferring only a single blade. That blade met Aegon's, and the sound of blunted steel against blunted steel rang across the training courtyard for the second time that morning. With how many spars Lord Velaryon insisted on, it would be the second out of hundreds. He pushed Aegon's blade back, and Aegon moved with the force.
A contest of strength would be stupid. Aegon was less stupid now than he used to be. He twisted again, arcing out with the shield, and when Lord Velaryon danced backwards, he took the chance to bring his blade to bear again, stabbing out with the same move that Lord Velaryon had used earlier, mimicking a snake's lunge with his sword.
His opponent seemed to laugh as he parried the lunge with a twist of his wrist. He did it slowly like he was showing Aegon how to correctly parry it, and Aegon did his best to burn it into his memory. He would try it out later. Lord Velaryon then stepped forward, stepping into Aegon's guard and forcing him to yield space. He slashed down, forcing a block from Aegon's shield.
Aegon gave ground again as he spied the boot coming from underneath his shield. That move had ended many a fight. Lord Velaryon could hit with his limbs like they were hammers. No man had any business being that strong. He dropped his shield to give him a better view, and that was for the best as Lord Velaryon came at him with the same lunge.
Aegon forced his hands into that motion to parry the blade just as Lord Velaryon had earlier. It worked marvellously, and Aegon celebrated his victory only for a second before he felt his vision begin to swim as his shoulder hit the ground.
"Watch your footwork," Lord Velaryon said from above him. Aegon looked up to see the blunted blade held towards his neck.
"Yield," he said. Lord Velaryon nodded, stepping back and waiting for Aegon to rise and take his stance again.
XXXXXX- LAENOR VELARYON
Training with Aegon this morning had gone well, I thought to myself even as I signed off on the gold allocation for hiring the elocution tutor. Parvella recommended a woman who had taught several of the magister's children in Lys. She had been a former slave from Pentos before managing to buy her freedom and move to Lys. Since then, she had managed to rise high in the Lyseni society—high for a former slave, at least—by teaching the children of the rich and powerful how to speak better.
The request was simple. I would pay double her usual rate for her to come and teach Aegon. As Aegon would be her only student for the while she stayed at Bloodstone, the request was probably underselling things, but then I would cover her accommodation, transport here and back, and feeding while she stayed here. She would not have to spend her own money here.
Parvella had authorisation to pay more if the woman proved obstinate but I had a feeling that the offer would be enough to move her, and with things like this I was somehow rarely wrong. I turned to the next bit of business. Glass sales were slowing down. That was one issue with selling a luxury good in this era. My number of customers was limited by design, and then there was the thing with Braavos. The Sealord's purchase of the Valyrian steel blade ended up being the last bit of large business I did with a Braavosi. Whether it was national pride or fear of retaliation from the Sealord, the Braavosi tended to avoid my services like the plague now. Unfortunate. Particularly when they were some of the richest people in the world.
Parvella's recommendations were simple. Either find new markets to drop into or price more aggressively to compete with the Myrish. The Myrish product was much lesser in terms of quality, but it was also a fair bit cheaper now. They had seen what Bloodstone produced, realised they could not compete in terms of quality and moved the contest to price. Until recently, it had been a contest they had been losing.
I decided to do both. There would be another great voyage coming soon. Vaemond's plan had been sent back to the man for final revisions and after that, it would be approved. The gold would be released, the men would be made available, and he would set off with a fleet of trade ships and an appropriate military escort. While father's voyages had been about going to far off lands to bring their wealth back to Westeros to trade, mine would accomplish two purposes. The first was to sell my own products there. The works of the master craftsmen of Bloodstone, and our glassworks would fill the cargo holds of the ships on the way there. The wealth of Yi-ti, silks, spices, all the things that made them special, would fill the cargo holds on the way back.
That should make each journey even more profitable. Add the fact that we had faster and bigger ships, and more of them as well, along with compasses for better navigation and soon the best star charts in the game, and we would soon be able to take things to a new level. The wealth would be immense and it could not come soon enough.
No matter how much gold we were making now, it seemed like we needed more and more of it to keep going each year. The Legions would be expensive. Building in the other islands would be expensive, and then we probably would have to buy slaves to populate said islands. I could already foresee everyone trying to charge us double or even triple because of the things we had done in the past. Gold would be needed there as well. And the ships? Oh Lord, the ships. Seven keep me from bankruptcy. I noted down on the report to increase the glass allocation for Vaemond's voyage and drop prices in Westeros for the time being. We would see how things went from there.
A/N: Chapter over and out. I quite like the idea of Vaemond leading his own voyage. Gives him a way to step out of Corlys' shadow and also puts him to good use instead of just being underfoot. Next five chapters up on patreon(https://www.patreon.com/c/Oghenevwogaga) (same username as here and link in bio), support me there and read them early.