The steward of House Whent spent a sleepless night. Early the next morning, with complex emotions and a mind full of the scent of Kraken wine, he hurriedly boarded a ship and left the Iron Islands. Traveling day and night, he rushed back to Harrenhal to report this unexpected proposal directly to Lord Whent.
Harrenhal was a massive castle built before the War of Conquest, located in the Riverlands on the northern shore of the Gods Eye. It was the largest fortress in the Seven Kingdoms, but since the Conquest, it had remained a gloomy, scarred place.
Because of the grand tourney to be held in a few months, this massive, eerie citadel was bustling like never before.
Craftsmen hammered endlessly, repairing damaged towers and walls, clearing out barracks and stables large enough to house thousands.
On the open grounds outside the castle, thousands of tents were being erected. Colorful and vibrant, they spread like a giant ring of mushrooms after rain, stretching to the distant horizon.
In the vast but somewhat chilly study of Harrenhal, the Lord of the castle and head of House Whent, Lord Walter Whent, tapped his fingers unconsciously on the table after listening to the steward's detailed report. He didn't make an immediate decision. Instead, he summoned his trusted Maester and repeated Euron Greyjoy's conditions word for word.
"The Iron Islands' objective is obvious," the Maester said slowly after a long contemplation, his voice steady as if reading from an ancient scroll. "They intend to use the tourney, this unprecedented platform, to make a name for their... well, controversially sourced red wine, and crack open the market of the Seven Kingdoms in one stroke."
He analyzed the pros and cons carefully. "For us, accepting it has several tangible benefits. First, the quality of the wine. Our people have verified it personally; it is indeed impeccable, even far exceeding expectations, worthy of the event's stature. We tasted it ourselves—it is equal to, if not better than, Arbor wine. Especially the 'Golden Kraken'! Second, we currently desperately need a large quantity of high-quality red wine. The reality is, aside from the Iron Islands, we can hardly find another source capable of stably providing such a volume of fine wine. The Arbor is ruined; Oldtown and Lannisport have no stock. Third," the Maester paused, emphasizing the crucial financial aspect, "the expenditure for wine was already suffocatingly large. Being able to save it all would undoubtedly be a timely help to our strained finances."
"As for the downsides..." The Maester's tone became cautious. "It's merely a slight loss of face. We would need to announce during the event that the wine is 'sponsored' by House Greyjoy, and perhaps mention their name before each joust. This indeed looks like clearing the way for the Iron Islands. In terms of posture, it is slightly... humbling."
Lord Whent listened, fell silent for a moment, then let out a short, bitter chuckle. He shook his head, his gaze sweeping over the tourney grounds outside the window, which were consuming vast sums of money to prepare.
"Face?" His voice was filled with the pragmatism of a realist. "If the Tourney at Harrenhal cannot even provide decent wine to the lords of the Seven Kingdoms, that would be truly losing all face. It would become a joke for centuries! Compared to that, what is reading the name 'Greyjoy' a few times?"
Lord Whent stood up abruptly, his bony hand pressing heavily on the desk as he made his final decision. His tone was decisive and unquestionable. "Besides, in the face of tens of thousands of gold dragons in hard currency, what does ethereal face matter? Go! Reply to Greyjoy immediately. Tell him his conditions—Harrenhal accepts!"
The family steward felt a heavy burden lift. He bowed to accept the order, about to turn and rush off to execute this major decision, when the Maester, who had been silent and thoughtful, raised a hand to stop him.
"Wait," the Maester's voice was steady and clear. He turned to the steward, his old eyes shining with caution and pragmatism. "In the reply to the Iron Islands, or when negotiating with Lord Euron, one point must be reiterated and made an unshakeable condition!"
He stepped forward, staring sharply at the steward, emphasizing every word. "We must get their clearest guarantee—ensure that the supply of wine for the tourney is absolutely sufficient to satisfy the drinking needs of tens of thousands of guests for fifteen days. There must be no awkward shortage midway! More importantly," his tone grew even more serious, "the quality must be consistent. Every barrel, every bottle must be identical to the samples we tasted. No substituting with inferior goods to ruin Harrenhal's reputation. This is vital!"
Ten days passed as fleetingly as a longship cutting through the sea.
When the travel-worn steward of House Whent stepped onto the docks of Pyke once again, he found everything was already prepared.
Euron Greyjoy seemed to have been certain this deal would go through. During the days the steward spent traveling back and forth, the winemaking workshops and warehouses of the Iron Islands had not rested. Barrels branded with White, Blue, Purple, and Golden Kraken seals were polished until they shone, stacked neatly in cool, ventilated seaside warehouses like soldiers awaiting inspection. The air was thick with a rich, complex aroma of wine that nearly overpowered the usual smell of the sea.
Euron himself stood beside the mountain of barrels, the sea breeze ruffling his dark cloak. seeing the steward return, he showed no surprise, only nodding slightly, a look of knowing understanding in his eyes.
"It seems Lord Whent has made a wise choice." Euron's tone was flat, as if stating a predetermined fact rather than the success of a negotiation. "The first batch of wine is already prepared. Once your fleet is in position, we can load immediately."
Euron didn't even ask about the details of the agreement. That calm confidence suggested everything was under control.
The steward looked at the mountain of ready barrels, a look of hesitation crossing his face. He spoke cautiously, "Lord Euron, your efficiency is astounding. However... the tourney is still months away. transporting the wine back to Harrenhal now... isn't it a bit too early? We might consume quite a bit ourselves in these coming months."
Hearing this, Euron waved his hand dismissively, wearing an almost generous smile. "Don't worry about such trifles. Since we've contracted the wine for the entire event, why would the Iron Islands care about a little consumption beforehand?" His words exuded magnanimous confidence. "Getting it to Harrenhal early allows you to rest easy sooner, without this matter hanging over your heads. Besides..."
He pivoted, his eyes flashing with honest yet sharp light, as if he had seen through all the unspoken worries of the other party. "With the wine arriving early, you will also have ample time to inspect it carefully, barrel by barrel, bottle by bottle. I, Euron Greyjoy, guarantee here and now that the quality of the 'Kraken' series will not deviate by a fraction. It can withstand any inspection."
The steward was instantly speechless, a slightly embarrassed smile crossing his face. The core clause of "ensuring quantity and quality," which Lord Whent and the Maester had ordered him to emphasize, had already been anticipated by Euron and offered proactively with such openness. It made their side seem a bit petty in comparison. The other party had not only thought ahead but had covered every base flawlessly.
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