The attendant uncorked the bottle deftly. A rich, complex aroma of fruit and oak silently escaped instantly, permeating the air. He respectfully poured wine for Lord Tywin, Prince Oberyn, and others present. The liquid displayed a deep ruby red color, shimmering with gorgeous luster under the light.
Lord Tywin Lannister did not rush to taste it. Following the etiquette of wine tasting, he steadily lifted the goblet, swirling it gently to observe the "tears" clinging to the glass.
Then he moved the goblet under his nose and inhaled deeply. The aroma was rich in layers: the fruity sweetness of ripe black cherries and plums, mixed with a trace of unique mineral scent and the sharpness of sea breeze. The finish carried the smokiness and spice brought by high-quality oak barrels.
Just by observing the color and smelling the aroma, Tywin's usually impassive face showed an almost imperceptible twitch of the brow. With his fastidious taste and experience, he had already concluded—this was no ordinary fine wine; it might even surpass many renowned top-tier vintages.
Although Cersei Lannister still wore a look of disdain, when she subconsciously mimicked her father's action and smelled that unusually complex and charming aroma, a trace of imperceptible astonishment flashed uncontrollably in her eyes.
Everyone slowly raised their cups, taking a sip of the deep ruby liquid according to etiquette. The wine lingered in their mouths for a moment as they felt its delicate tannins and complex flavors bloom on their tongues. After a brief silence, heartfelt praise rang out around the table. Only Cersei Lannister pursed her lips tightly, looking displeased, as if she had drunk vinegar instead of fine wine.
Lord Tywin Lannister slowly put down his goblet. The corners of his usually cold, hard mouth seemed to soften into an almost undetectable arc. He evaluated, "Full-bodied, solid structure. Though the tannins are strong, they are smooth as silk. The aftertaste has a rare sense of minerality and power. This is not the work of a few years. Lord Greyjoy, your investment and patience in winemaking are impressive." His praise was calm and precise, more like a weighed assessment report.
Prince Oberyn Martell laughed heartily, sparing no praise. "Haha! Good wine! The entry is unrestrained fruitiness, but hidden behind it lies the heat of our Dornish sun and the sharpness of the sea breeze! There is an unyielding spirit in this wine, just like its owner! Euron, I must order a few more barrels from you!"
Tyrion Lannister swirled his glass, took a small sip, and his witty eyes lit up instantly. "Marvelous! This aroma reminds me of those aged leather tomes filled with the fragrance of wisdom in the Citadel library of Oldtown, yet the taste is such a young and vibrant berry storm! Contradictory! Charming! This is definitely a flavor worthy of being written into poetry!"
Ser Kevan Lannister also nodded slightly, expressing his approval concisely. "Mellow taste, excellent balance. A rare fine wine." As Tywin's staunchest deputy, his affirmation carried equal weight.
Even Jaime Lannister added with a smile, carrying his characteristic knightly demeanor, "The sense of power in this wine is enough for a knight to drink a cup before a charge! Good wine!"
Princess Elia Martell smiled at Euron, her voice gentle but clear. "I said long ago, this is truly fine wine. Its quality is enough to silence any prejudice."
The atmosphere at the table heated up due to this unexpectedly superb wine. Heartfelt praises rose one after another. Only Cersei remained aloof, her silence forming a stark contrast with the surrounding acclaim.
Lord Tywin Lannister took another careful sip of the deep liquid, allowing the complex and robust flavors to fully bloom in his mouth. A moment later, he slowly set down the goblet. His pale green eyes, flecked with gold, looked sharply at Euron as he gave a weighty evaluation. "The quality of this wine indeed surpasses the best vintages of the Arbor."
He pivoted to the most practical question, his tone holding the pure prudence and pragmatism of a merchant. "Can such fine wine be mass-produced now?" This concerned not just taste, but potential commercial value.
A confident smile appeared on Euron's face. He had been waiting for this question. "Of course, My Lord. Our cellars are fully prepared. After the Tourney at Harrenhal, the 'Golden Kraken' will officially set sail to be sold across the Seven Kingdoms and even to the Free Cities across the Narrow Sea." He followed up, his tone respectful yet dignified, "At that time, we will need Lord Tywin's care to open the market in the Westerlands for our fine wine."
Without almost any hesitation, Lord Tywin nodded steadily, making a decision that both acknowledged the quality and showed great commercial insight. "Certainly. For this 'Golden Kraken', book the first batch of fifty barrels for Casterly Rock."
Euron continued to introduce calmly, like a merchant displaying treasures. "In fact, the 'Kraken' series of red wines produced by the Iron Islands is far more than just this 'Golden Kraken'. According to grape variety, brewing process, and aging time, we divide them into four grades—White Kraken: fresh and crisp, suitable for women and children; Blue Kraken: mellow and lingering, similar in taste to the Arbor wines of old; Purple Kraken: deep and complex, adding another layer of flavor, slightly cheaper; and the Golden Kraken you just tasted is the top-tier collection, the culmination of all, and naturally the most expensive. Each possesses distinct flavors and personalities, enough to satisfy various occasions and tastes."
Hearing this clear, strategically sound introduction, a distinct smile rarely seen actually appeared on Tywin Lannister's rock-like face. Mixed with appreciation and surprise, he evaluated in a low voice, "Greyjoy, you really... know how to do business."
Hearing this, Euron sighed softly, the sigh carrying heaviness and a wry smile. "It is a helpless move, My Lord. You must know well the poverty and harshness of the Iron Islands. If we don't want our people to rely solely on the ancient way of 'Paying the Iron Price' (reaving) for generations to survive, we must open new paths. Prosperous trade is a foundation more solid than any fleet."
His fiancée, Ashara Dayne, sat quietly by Euron's side throughout. Her dark hair flowed like a waterfall, making her skin appear even fairer and more translucent. Especially those unforgettable violet eyes inherited from House Dayne of Starfall—at this moment, they clearly reflected Euron's figure, flowing with unconcealed admiration and heartfelt respect.
Lord Tywin Lannister's gaze swept over the tightly clasped hands of the young couple. His usually severe face actually revealed a near-gentle expression, as if seeing his younger self and Joanna. He spoke steadily, his tone carrying an elder's approval. "Ser Arthur Dayne not only has swordsmanship that crowns the continent but his judgment of people is equally unique. It seems now that he has found a truly matching and ideal husband for his beautiful sister, Lady Ashara."
Feeling everyone's gaze, Ashara did not lower her head in shyness. Instead, she held Euron's hand tighter. She raised those moving violet eyes, her voice soft but full of happiness and firmness. "Yes, Lord Tywin. I feel very lucky."
This sincere confession and the harmonious scene before them caused the three Lannister siblings opposite to have different expressions, casting complex gazes upon the lovers bathed in love.
Unsuppressable jealousy and unwillingness burned in Cersei's eyes; everything she desired but could not obtain seemed to be stinging her. Jaime's gaze held a mix of yearning and faint melancholy, perhaps a momentary touch of pure emotion. Deep within Tyrion's world-wise eyes lay a bitter but sincere blessing—a distant and gentle glance cast toward a beauty he hardly dared to hope for.
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