The Iron Islands, Pyke.
The sea wind howled, battering the rope bridge that connected to the Sea Tower, making it sway violently from side to side.
It looked as though it might be torn away at any moment and hurled into the sea below.
Asha Greyjoy had long grown accustomed to Pyke's wind and waves. Her steps were steady as she crossed the swaying bridge, and she soon reached the Sea Tower.
Ignoring the seawater that soaked her quilted coat, she strode forward on long legs and entered her father Balon Greyjoy's chamber.
"Father, you wanted to see me?"
Asha stood at the doorway, knocked lightly, and smiled.
At the sound of her voice, Balon Greyjoy, who had been seated and reading a letter, jolted as if startled awake.
He lifted his head to look at his daughter, his expression complicated, an unspoken grief welling up inside him.
From this moment on, she was his only remaining child.
"Father?"
Asha noticed the strange look in his eyes and called out to him again in confusion.
Balon came back to himself, his voice hoarse.
"Read this letter."
He tossed the parchment onto the wooden table in front of him, gesturing for Asha to look.
He himself, burdened by the grief of losing a son, staggered toward the window and pushed it open.
In an instant, wet, salty sea wind slammed into Balon's face. Water streamed down, and it was impossible to tell whether it was seawater or tears.
He stared out at the vast ocean, silent for a long time.
Asha watched her father's strange behavior, her heart filled with confusion and unease.
Still, she obediently walked to the table and reached for the letter.
There were two letters lying on the long table.
Asha glanced briefly at the other one before picking up the letter Balon had thrown down.
She needed only a single glance to understand her father's reaction.
Her face flushed with shock and anger.
"Theon is dead?"
She skimmed the letter rapidly, reading line after line.
Moments later, she slammed the parchment onto the table.
"Stark claims Theon plotted to murder his son, and they had the Kingsguard kill him without even holding a trial?"
"Father, something is wrong here!"
Asha did not truly care whether Theon had plotted against a Stark.
After the Iron Islands' defeat nine years ago, Theon had been taken to Winterfell as a hostage.
Her memories of that brother had long since faded, and whether he lived or died mattered little to her personally.
What she cared about was this.
Without a trial, based on nothing more than accusations, a Greyjoy had been executed.
The honor of the Iron Islands had been crushed by the king and the North, ground into the sea to feed the fish.
Young and hot-blooded, and raised by Balon as his heir, Asha could not possibly swallow such an insult.
Yet Balon said nothing.
He continued staring out at the sea, his thoughts unreadable.
Seeing him like this, Asha stepped forward, her voice rising in anger.
"The king and the Starks are clearly in league with each other. They will say whatever suits them. We must respond!"
Only then did Balon turn back and close the window.
He did not wipe the moisture from his face.
Instead, he asked calmly, "And how do you propose we respond? By raiding the North for revenge? Or by crowning ourselves kings once more?"
Asha froze. His reaction was far from what she had expected.
She stared at him in disbelief. "Father, you mean we just let this go? Theon was your only son!"
Balon's pain flickered through his eyes, but he forced himself to remain calm.
"But he was not my heir."
"Asha, you are."
He looked at her, his voice low and heavy.
"The Iron Islands have already failed once, nine years ago. If we act rashly, we will only repeat that disaster.
The alliance of stag, wolf, lion, fish, and falcon is solid. Until they show a weakness, we must endure."
"And besides…"
Balon walked back to the table and handed her the second letter, a cold light flashing in his eyes.
"Your uncle Euron is returning."
"Uncle Euron?"
Asha took the letter instinctively, and its contents made her gasp.
"Uncle Euron entered the ruins of Valyria and found a dragon horn?"
"Yes. A dragon horn," Balon said in a strange tone. "A horn said to control dragons."
Asha raised the letter, her voice sharp.
"Father, what does that have to do with us? Are you saying Euron's dragon horn is more important than Theon's death?"
"Of course," Balon replied without hesitation, sitting back down.
"What does it matter?" Asha scoffed. "Do you really think Uncle Euron can find living dragons?"
After the Dance of the Dragons, the Targaryen dragons had all perished. Even their eggs had turned to stone, unable to hatch.
Later Targaryens had tried every method imaginable, even leading to the tragedy at Summerhall, yet no new dragons were born.
To Asha, it was obvious that even if the dragon horn truly had such power, it meant nothing.
"There are no living dragons left in this world. The Targaryens are a thing of the past.
But we are still alive. If we do not speak out for Theon, who in the Seven Kingdoms will respect us?"
She waved her arm, as if ready to lead the Ironborn captains to scour the North the moment Balon agreed.
Balon looked at his heir, a flicker of emotion passing through his eyes.
She looked exactly as he himself had nine years ago. But the times were different now, and he would not let her repeat his mistake.
"Asha, what if Euron says he can find dragons?"
"What?"
Asha cried out, then immediately realized something.
"But Uncle Euron never said…"
Her words trailed off as she noticed the letter in her hand was missing part of its ending.
"Father, where is the rest of the letter?"
She could not understand why Balon had withheld part of it.
Balon merely shook his head and said,
"Asha, your brother's death will not simply be forgotten. From now on, send ships to patrol the seas off the North and the Riverlands."
He tapped the table for emphasis.
"But do not land."
Seeing Asha nod reluctantly, he continued,
"We will also write to the king, demanding an explanation for executing Theon without trial. The angrier the tone, the better."
"The king has invited the northern wolf south to serve as Hand. Given Stark's nature, whether by reason or by duty, he will give us an explanation."
Asha shook her head in disagreement.
"Father, if Theon truly did try to murder Stark's son…"
Before she could finish, Balon cut her off with a snort.
"No matter how useless your brother was, he was not foolish enough to kill Stark's son in Winterfell.
He was framed. And Stark does not have the mind for such schemes."
Asha thought for a moment.
"So that's why you want to test them with a letter?"
Balon nodded.
Asha clenched her teeth.
"I'll have the letter written at once."
She turned and left the Sea Tower, heading toward the main keep.
After she was gone, Balon drew another sheet of parchment from his sleeve. He walked to the window in silence, tore it to pieces, and scattered it into the wind.
The sea wind carried away scraps of paper bearing the name "The Cannibal," sweeping them into the waves.
At the same time, on the far side of the world, in Lys.
A woman in red robes, Melisandre, stared fervently into a roaring bonfire.
Images rose and fell within the flames.
A pale wooden face with blood-red eyes appeared, followed by endless green branches entwining a rising throne.
"A false god!"
Melisandre's eyes burned with hostility as she shrieked.
"A servant of the false god!"
In the next instant, the vision shifted again.
A blurred figure emerged, wielding a great sword blazing with fire.
"Azor Ahai! The prince that was promised!"
Melisandre's eyes shone with fanatic zeal. She stirred the flames, seeking guidance from the Lord of Light.
Just then, a gust of wind blew, sending sparks drifting northward.
Melisandre rose to her feet and gazed in that direction.
"That way… Dragonstone?"
Her eyes flickered as she made her decision.
She set out at once.
__________
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