POV: Jon Stark, Braavos, Sealord's palace.
Workers moved in and out of the side doors, carrying sacks of modified seeds from my mansion to the Sealord's storage vaults.
I sat across Sealord at a table laden with food. At the center sat a round, flat bread covered with melted cheese, tomato sauce, herbs, and thin slices of sausage.
Pizza.
The Sealord picked up his knife and fork, studying the strange food with curiosity. He cut a small piece and brought it to his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.
I set my own knife and fork aside and picked up a slice with my hands, biting into it.
The Sealord paused, watching me. Then he smiled slightly, set down his utensils, and did the same.
"Remarkable," he said after swallowing. "Simple, but the flavors work together well. This could be popular in the taverns."
"You need the right cheese," I said. "It has to melt properly. And the bread must be thin but strong enough to hold everything."
He took another bite, nodding in approval. "Your knowledge of cuisine is as unusual as your gift."
I nodded.
We ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Ghost lay near the door, watching the workers pass. The Sealord's wife and daughter sat at the far end of the table, speaking quietly to each other.
When we finished eating, I reached into the leather bag at my feet and pulled out a carved wooden box. I set it on the table and opened it.
The Sealord leaned forward, "What in the name of…?"
Inside lay a necklace. The chain was made of diamond links, each one perfectly cut and connected. The pendant was a single massive diamond carved into the shape of a peacock, its tail feathers spread in intricate detail.
Beside the necklace sat another diamond, roughly the size of a fist, uncut but flawless.
"Seven hells," the Sealord breathed.
His wife had stopped talking. She was staring at the necklace with undisguised desire.
"For your wife," I said. "A gift to commemorate our partnership."
I had spent three days creating these diamonds. The process was exhausting and inefficient. I had to manipulate carbon molecules from biomass, creating specific hydrocarbons that would release carbon in precise patterns. Layer by layer, atom by atom, building up the diamond structure.
It was far too much effort for something I could potentially create more easily in the future using fire magic for heat and water or wind magic for pressure.
But I had wanted to test whether it was possible at all to create a diamond. And I had needed an impressive gift for this negotiation.
The Sealord gestured to his wife, who rose and approached the table. Her eyes never left the necklace.
I lifted it from the box and held it out. She took it with trembling hands, turning it to catch the light. The diamonds sparkled, throwing rainbow patterns across the walls.
"It is beautiful," she whispered.
"Try it on," the Sealord said.
She fastened it around her neck. The peacock pendant rested perfectly against her collarbone, glittering with every breath.
Their daughter stood and came closer, staring at her mother with open envy.
The Sealord nodded slowly, still looking at his wife. "I suspect you will have many customers, Stark."
I reached into my bag again and pulled out a folded parchment. "The contract, as we discussed."
The Sealord took it and read carefully. His expression remained neutral, but I saw his fingers tighten slightly on the document.
The terms were simple. I would provide modified seeds for crops that grew faster and produced more. In exchange, the Sealord would give me forty-four percent of all extra profits generated from those seeds.
It was a fortune. In just a few years, it would make me wealthier than most of Westeros.
The Sealord looked at the contract, then at his wife wearing the diamond necklace. His daughter was now holding the large uncut diamond, turning it in her hands with wonder.
He sighed and pulled out his seal. "Very well. Forty-four percent."
He pressed his seal into hot wax at the bottom of the contract. I did the same with my weirwood with wolf signet.
It was done.
As we shook hands, I felt a sudden pull at the edge of my consciousness. One of my parrots was trying to connect through the warging bond.
The one in Pentos.
I excused myself politely and stepped out onto the balcony, Ghost following. Sealand's wife and daughter were too busy admiring their diamonds to notice.
I closed my eyes and opened the connection.
Images flooded in. Vermax's memories from the past few hours. Daenerys sneaking out of the manse. The conversation about Illyrio's schemes. Then, more recently, Viserys burst into Daenerys's room with news.
The deal was made. Daenerys would marry Khal Drogo. The wedding would happen soon.
I pulled back from the connection and opened my eyes.
So it was beginning. The events that would eventually lead to dragons returning to the world. To Daenerys becoming the Mother of Dragons.
Except this time, things would be different. Because I had plans of my own.
….
POV: Alleras (Sarella Sand), Braavos
I stood in the rented chambers near the docks, reading the encrypted letter delivered by sand eagle. For the third time. My hands were shaking slightly.
I had written to my father about Jon Stark and what he wanted. Access to the hidden vault beneath the Citadel.
I had not expected my father to come himself.
The door opened and Prince Oberyn Martell stood in the doorway, smiling that dangerous smile of his. Behind him were three of my sisters.
Clinging to his arm was Ellaria Sand, his current paramour.
"Father," I said, lowering my hand. "Why are you here?"
"Did you think I would ignore such an interesting letter?" Oberyn stepped inside, his eyes sweeping the small room. "My daughter writes that a northern boy seeks entrance to the Citadel's most guarded secret. Of course, I came."
Obara pushed past him, her spear tapping against the doorframe. "You have been playing spy in Braavos for months, sister. What have you learned?"
"Enough to know Jon Snow is worth Father's attention," I said.
Tyene settled onto my bed, arranging her skirts carefully. "And he wants something from the Citadel's vault. What exactly?"
"I do not know the details. But Marwyn has been working with him. Jon Snow asked specifically about the vault. What it contains. How to access it."
Oberyn sat in the only chair, pulling Ellaria onto his lap. "And you wrote to me because you know I studied at the Citadel. Because you thought I might have knowledge of this vault."
"Yes."
My father smiled, but there was something cold in it. "I do know of it. I spent six links of my chain learning what the maesters truly keep hidden. They do not just store dangerous things related to magic, Sarella. They store proof, proof of things they have done to keep the realm ignorant."
"Then you can help him," I said. "He is staying at a mansion outside the city, I can arrange a meeting."
"Good." Oberyn looked at my sisters. "We will meet him tomorrow. All of us. I want to see how he handles the presence of Dorne."
…