Before the armies of Westeros could set sail, they received two pieces of news.
One was good.
The other was disastrous.
The good news was that the Iron Bank had agreed to increase its loan by another fifty percent.
The total now stood at four and a half million gold dragons.
The bad news...
House Targaryen had stolen every last coin.
....
Robert's furious roar echoed through the throne room.
"Tell me!"
"Where is my gold?"
"What in the Seven Hells happened?"
Standing below the Iron Throne with his head bowed, Petyr Baelish looked like a sapling caught in a violent storm, as though he might snap at any moment.
His heart had already sunk into despair.
Had he known the entire world would unite to destroy House Targaryen, he never would have taken such a reckless gamble.
Who could possibly have predicted this?
Viserys had somehow become the target of a god.
Petyr had always prided himself on his intelligence. Now he felt as though his mind simply could not keep up.
He had returned to King's Landing because he still wanted one last chance to turn everything to his advantage.
Perhaps he could exchange his insignificant holding for the Eyrie.
If fortune truly smiled upon him... Even Casterly Rock was not beyond imagination.
After all, with Lysa under his influence, Jon Arryn's life was effectively in his hands.
He had already prepared himself to endure Robert's wrath.
What he had never anticipated was R'hllor's sudden intervention.
Now it seemed almost certain that Viserys would not survive. Everything Petyr had worked toward would amount to nothing.
Jon finally broke the silence.
"Your Grace.
The immediate priority is honoring your promises to the lords.
There must be a traitor among us. But even if we uncover him immediately, the gold will not return.
Stabilizing the army must come first."
Long before Littlefinger had returned, he had already written secretly to Lysa, informing her that the gold had been stolen.
In his letter, he described his journey as a narrow escape from death.
He had even written what amounted to a farewell letter, claiming he was too ashamed ever to face Robert or Jon again.
Lysa cared nothing for four and a half million gold dragons. She cared only that the man she loved had survived.
Naturally, she never showed Petyr's intimate letters to her husband.
Instead, after Jon learned the gold had been stolen, she repeatedly pleaded on Petyr's behalf.
In Jon's eyes, Littlefinger remained a brilliant and capable young administrator.
No one could have wanted such a disaster to happen.
Only after receiving Jon's assurance did Petyr finally dare return to King's Landing and face Robert's anger.
Unfortunately... Robert's treasury was so empty that mice could barely survive in it.
The mountains of gold left behind by Aerys had long since been squandered.
On top of that, the Crown remained deeply indebted to both Casterly Rock and the Iron Bank.
In the end, Jon proposed a compromise.
Part of the promised reward would be distributed as grain and military supplies instead of gold.
Robert had originally intended to hold two weddings before the campaign began.
One for Joffrey.
One for his younger brother Renly.
The celebrations were meant to strengthen morale. Now those plans had completely fallen apart.
...
After Littlefinger withdrew, Thoros soon received Braavos's reply.
Freygo had declared that Robert need not rush to repay the loan. The interest would be forgiven entirely.
He had a feeling.
If Viserys survived this crisis... Even Braavos would one day be forced to kneel before the dragons.
Although Freygo had waived an enormous amount of interest, he requested something else in return.
Robert was to send his eldest son, Joffrey, to Braavos.
The Sea Lord wished to unite his own family with House Baratheon through marriage.
The proposal immediately placed Robert in an awkward position.
...
"Will this truly work?"
News of the Faceless Men's failure quickly reached Braavos.
Freygo had begun searching for another way to eliminate Viserys.
More accurately... He wanted a method cheaper than sending vast armies to war.
"Do not worry, Your Majesty."
"If you can provide me with king's blood... We can destroy Viserys."
The High Priest of R'hllor in Braavos, Jult, spoke with complete confidence.
His intention was to create a Shadow Assassin using the power of king's blood.
The ritual, however, demanded a tremendous sacrifice from whoever possessed that royal blood.
Nobles were perfectly willing to send peasants to die in their place.
Sacrificing themselves...
Was another matter entirely.
The truly absurd part was that even if Freygo volunteered, the blood of an elected Sea Lord simply did not satisfy Jult's requirements.
Norvos had no king.
Neither did Qohor.
They had even captured several Dothraki believed to be Khal Drogo's bastard sons.
None possessed sufficient royal blood for the ritual.
To guarantee success, they finally settled upon Crown Prince Joffrey Baratheon.
Naturally, the request was disguised as a marriage alliance.
Thanks to R'hllor's miraculous means of communication, the proposal reached King's Landing almost instantly.
...
"Let's hear your thoughts."
Around the long table in the Tower of the Hand, Jon Arryn looked at the assembled lords.
"Why would Freygo suddenly propose a marriage now?"
"He simply wants to strengthen the alliance before the war," Tywin answered.
He could think of no other explanation.
The interest on four and a half million gold dragons was no small sum.
Even the annual revenue of a wealthy lordship might not be enough to cover it.
As far as the coalition was concerned, victory in this war was inevitable.
Freygo was merely trying to secure greater political leverage while he had the opportunity.
Tywin also knew perfectly well about Jaime and Cersei's relationship.
The sooner Joffrey married... The sooner that dangerous secret could finally be buried forever.
Nor did Tywin wish to see House Stark gain influence within the royal court.
Braavos, distant across the Narrow Sea, was far more acceptable.
The Braavosi possessed no entrenched power in Westeros.
Like House Rogare of Lys during the reign of Viserys II, whatever influence they gained would inevitably fade with time.
Robert quickly gave his answer.
He would send Joffrey to Braavos to marry. After the war ended, the prince would return to inherit the Iron Throne.
Everyone approved the arrangement.
Even Cersei agreed.
Though it pained her to part with her son.
As for Sansa's opinion... No one bothered to ask.
Her mother, Catelyn, felt deeply humiliated on her daughter's behalf.
But the king himself had already apologized in person. There was little more she could say.
Since the army would not depart immediately, Joffrey was soon placed aboard a ship bound for Braavos.
The boy was barely ten years old.
He had scarcely ever left the Red Keep. Now he was being sent across the Narrow Sea to a distant foreign city.
He was terrified.
"Mother..."
His eyes brimmed with tears.
"I thought I was supposed to marry Sansa. Why are they sending me somewhere so far away?"
Cersei knelt and held him tightly.
"Don't be afraid, my sweet boy. Your father will soon sail for Essos as well."
"When he defeats the Targaryens... You'll come home."
___________
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