The morning mist had not yet been fully scattered by the sea breeze, but the docks of Tarth were already busy. Barrels of fresh water were rolled onto the deck, and baskets of fresh food completed the resupply. Euron's fleet was ready to set sail again.
Sailors skillfully adjusted the rigging of the two longships. The sails swelled slightly, yearning for the breath of the sea. On the dock, Brienne of Tarth's figure appeared particularly upright. She was no longer the shy girl from the night before; her eyes shone with determined anticipation for the future.
"Goodbye, Brienne," Euron called out from the ship's rail. "We will meet again at the Tourney at Harrenhal."
Brienne immediately turned her head, casting a gaze filled with plea and resolve toward her father beside her.
Lord Selwyn Tarth looked deeply at his daughter, then at Euron on the ship. Finally, he nodded steadily and said in a deep voice, "Yes, I will take you with me. To Harrenhal, to see the world, to see the finest knights of Westeros. It will surely be of great benefit to your future path as a knight."
"I will definitely be there!" Receiving her father's permission, Brienne's face instantly bloomed with bright radiance. She responded loudly to Euron, like the morning sun finally breaking through the clouds.
The mooring lines were tossed back onto the ship. The longships slowly left the dock, cutting into the sparkling sea surface. Brienne stood on the shore, gazing for a long time at the receding sails until they turned into two tiny white specks on the azure horizon.
The morning sea breeze carried a chill, brushing against Princess Elia Martell's slightly pale cheeks. Standing beside Euron, she watched the shrinking but still upright figure on the dock. Suddenly, she nudged Euron gently with her elbow, her eyes twinkling with a mischievous and gentle light, teasing in a low voice, "It seems the 'Sapphire of Tarth' favors you quite a bit." Her tone was brisk, carrying a hint of triumph at seeing through a secret.
Hearing this, Euron couldn't help but laugh and shake his head, his gaze still on the distance. "You overthink it, Princess. That was purely the appreciation of one swordsman for another, and a pact regarding the way of the knight, nothing more."
"Oh? Is that so?" Elia drawled, the smile in her eyes deepening. "Don't worry, I'm not a loose-lipped person. I'll keep this discovery a secret from Ashara for you."
She thought it was just a joke, but saw Euron suddenly suppress his smile, revealing a look of contemplation. He rubbed his chin as if a brilliant idea had just crossed his mind.
"Now that you mention it," he spoke slowly, his tone becoming serious and pragmatic, "I suddenly remembered that my brother Victarion Greyjoy... still has no betrothal."
He turned to look at Elia, his eyes flashing with shrewd calculation. "Though House Tarth is not exceedingly prominent, Lord Selwyn's family values are upright. Miss Brienne herself is an unpolished gem—she possesses a resilience and purity of heart beyond ordinary people. In the future, she will not only be a true knight but also a loyal and powerful partner. If possible... this might be a marriage worth facilitating."
Princess Elia's eyes widened slightly. She completely hadn't expected that her casual joke would be like a key unlocking Euron's precise calculations regarding marriage alliances and strategy.
Watching him instantly switch into serious mode, she was first stunned, then couldn't help but smile, nodding thoughtfully. This young master of the Ironborn truly thinks differently from ordinary people.
What made her laugh even more was Euron's nature of acting on thought immediately.
With almost no hesitation, Euron turned and walked to the desk in the cabin, spread out parchment, dipped his quill in ink, and began writing on the spot. The content of the letter was concise to the point of bluntness, cutting straight to the core:
[To Father: Proposing marriage for brother Victarion. Object: Brienne of Tarth, daughter of House Tarth. This woman is a good match, beneficial to the family. Details to follow. — Euron]
Princess Elia watched his swift and decisive operation, almost like "panic buying," and finally couldn't help but cover her forehead and laugh out loud. The image of Brienne—tall, upright, and completely different from ordinary noble ladies—floated in her mind. She thought, "Brienne of Tarth... with that... unique stature and physique, does he really think if he writes the letter a quarter of an hour late, someone else will snatch her up?"
For a moment, she even suspected if this guy was so eager to "market" his brother just to quickly prove his loyalty to Ashara far away in Starfall and draw a clear line.
---
On the azure Narrow Sea, Euron's two longships cut through the waves.
A sight they had grown accustomed to, yet remained incredibly magical, accompanied them constantly: schools of silver-flashing swordfish, pods of playful dolphins, colorful moray eels, cutlassfish, and even venomous lionfish surrounded the longships like a loyal honor guard, leaping and swimming joyfully, as if greeting the master on the ship in their unique way.
Those on board had gotten used to it, attributing it to the young master's innate mysterious charisma. However, just as the jagged outline of the Stepstones gradually became clear on the horizon, Euron suddenly raised his hand and issued a clear command.
"Drop sails! Halt advance!"
The sails fell in response. The ship's speed slowed until it floated quietly on the gently rippling sea. Everyone cast puzzled looks at their young leader.
Euron stood at the prow, his gaze deep as he looked toward the Stepstones, as if he could penetrate the wind and distance to perceive the chaos happening in those waters. He turned and explained calmly to the crew, "Friends of the sea just gave me a warning. In the waters near the Stepstones, dozens of warships are currently locked in a chaotic battle, the fighting fierce." He paused, his voice carrying undeniable decisiveness. "That water has become a boiling pot of blood. We need not go in and disturb them."
Princess Elia beside him showed a puzzled expression. She tilted her head slightly, looking at the man who could command deep-sea behemoths, and questioned softly, "You can summon giant beasts like fortresses at sea, overturning warships like a child playing with shells. Let alone dozens of ships, even a fleet of hundreds—what do they amount to before you? Are you... afraid of getting involved in such a fight?"
Euron finally withdrew his gaze from the distance and turned to Elia, the corner of his mouth curving into an indifferent yet profound arc. His answer held no anger at being offended, only a near-transcendent rationality. "Not afraid, Princess. It is unnecessary." Euron emphasized, his tone steady. "Do I look like the kind of person who revels in senseless slaughter and finds joy in watching others die?"
He spread his hands, his posture casual but exuding powerful confidence. "If they haven't provoked me, and I have no reason that I must kill them, then why waste energy rushing into that sea of blood to look for trouble? Let the vultures and sharks deal with their grudges. Our course should avoid foolish quagmires."
Princess Elia murmured, "'Revels in senseless slaughter, finds joy in watching others die'... are you insinuating an accusation against someone...?"
Euron coughed dryly twice. He certainly wasn't going to take the bait on that statement.
His serious demeanor made Elia laugh heartily.
---