When the latest battle report from the Stepstones reached Sunspear, Oberyn Martell was polishing his spear in the courtyard.
After reading the secret missive, a flicker of surprise crossed his narrow eyes. "The little kraken moves shockingly fast! To have already taken Black Rock Island... that's a full five days ahead of our predictions!" He chuckled, shaking his head. "The 'Crown of Sea Skulls'? Quite the gimmick to scare people."
Prince Doran sat in the shade, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrest of his wheelchair. A rare smile touched his lips. "It seems I really am starting to like this boy." The sunlight filtered through the grapevines, casting dappled shadows on his wise face. "Perhaps you are right. His future will certainly not be limited to being a second son of the Iron Islands."
Oberyn grinned, tucking the parchment into his robe. "I must take this good news to our sister. I imagine she will be quite relieved." He turned, his copper cloak sweeping a dashing arc, the Dornish sun gilding his departing figure.
---
Ashara soon learned from her close friend Arianne that Euron had arrived in the Stepstones. She gently set down her embroidery, a hint of confusion in her eyes. "Why didn't Euron come to Sunspear first?"
Arianne raised an eyebrow mischievously, her lips curling into a teasing smile. "What? Apart for barely any time, and you're already missing that little kraken?"
Ashara didn't retort as she usually might. Instead, she smiled frankly, her fingers unconsciously rubbing the hem of her dress. "I do miss him a little." She looked out the window at the sparkling sea, her tone turning pragmatic. "But more importantly, didn't Prince Oberyn say he would coordinate with him? If the two forces combined, casualties would surely be reduced."
The sunlight through the window cast a soft halo on Ashara's tranquil profile. Her worry carried both a maiden's affection and the strategic insight befitting the heir to Starfall.
Arianne twirled the latest intelligence report in her hand, her tone puzzled. "The previous report said they were still resupplying at the Arbor. By normal sailing speeds, it should have taken them at least another three days to reach the Stepstones." She leaned in close to Ashara, her eyes shining with curiosity. "Gods know how your little kraken did it. To arrive so quickly..."
A gentle smile appeared on Ashara's lips as she twirled a lock of golden hair. "Yes, he always manages to do the unexpected."
Suddenly remembering her aunt's increasingly visible pregnancy, Arianne huffed in annoyance. "Unexpected indeed—unexpected enough to make one want to punch him!" The more she thought about it, the angrier she got, even shaking her fist. "If you ask me, a beating isn't enough. His head should be put on that... 'Crown of Sea Skulls' or whatever it is!"
Ashara immediately reached out and pinched her hard, scolding playfully, "Don't talk nonsense! Do you want me to be a widow before I'm even a bride?" The sunlight illuminated the flush of embarrassment and annoyance on her face, though it couldn't hide the worry in her eyes.
---
Elia gently took the scroll from Oberyn, scanning the text detailing the victory. She couldn't help but sigh softly. "Isn't this too aggressive? The Stepstones cannot be conquered with just a few victories."
Oberyn smiled faintly, the Dornish sun dancing on his bronzed skin. "Don't worry about the little kraken." He leaned lazily against the porch pillar. "His thoughts run far deeper than most. Any problem you can think of, he has already prepared three or more solutions for."
The red-copper spear spun in a graceful arc in his hand. "Even strategies for failure and retreat have likely been rehearsed in that head of his countless times."
He straightened up, his cloak fluttering in the hot desert wind. "Since he has made his move, it's time for this uncle to depart as well." A sharp glint flashed in Oberyn's eyes. "Rest here and wait for our good news. I will ensure my future nephew gets a title worthy of his bloodline."
---
The Stepstones
Euron ordered his Ironborn to drag a drunken pirate from a tavern on a neighboring island—a member of the Pirate Alliance.
The pirate was forced onto the blood-stained sand. The stench of blood and the terrifying sight of the skull tower sobered him instantly. He shook like a sieve, not daring to look up at the "Crown of Sea Skulls."
Euron indifferently tossed a Gold Dragon coin in front of him. It rolled through the dark red sand and stopped by the man's trembling hand. "Deliver this letter to your Alliance Leader," Euron's voice scraped across the beach like ice. "This is your payment."
The pirate tremblingly picked up the sand-and-blood-covered coin, then grabbed the letter sealed with tar and the golden kraken wax. He scrambled away from the death-filled coast, stumbling and crawling. The letter in his bosom felt scorching hot, every step like walking on burning coals.
By the time night inked the sky, Euron's handwritten letter was tremblingly presented on the desk of the Pirate King of the Pirate Alliance.
On the rough parchment, the handwriting was sharp as axe chops:
"Hand over the Lord of Skull Island to me personally, and offer an apology! You have three days. Otherwise, I will destroy you!"
No signature, no closing. Only the murderous intent that pierced like a blade.
The candle flame danced in the Pirate King's suddenly contracting pupils, as if trembling at the brief threat.
The sea wind howled outside the window, carrying the bloody scent of the distant "Crown of Sea Skulls," turning that light piece of paper into a crushing weight on the heart of everyone who saw it.
Edwin Ramirez, the pirate captain newly joined to this alliance, twirled his mustache and smiled eerily: My friend, you still love the unexpected...
---
King's Landing
Inside the Red Keep, the atmosphere of the Small Council was heavy as iron.
Lucerys Velaryon, Master of Ships, reported the latest intelligence with a clear, restrained voice. "The 'Ice and Fire Trading Company' ship from the Iron Islands was hijacked. Euron Greyjoy personally led twenty longships and two thousand Ironborn to the Stepstones. Yesterday's report confirms they have taken Black Rock Island and built a spectacle called the 'Crown of Sea Skulls' from pirate heads."
Aerys II's fingers tapped nervously on the armrest of the Iron Throne, the sharp steel edges threatening to cut him at any moment. "That little ironborn bastard," the King's voice rasped like a cracked gong. "Stirring up trouble again. Last time it was the Arbor, now the Stepstones." He suddenly leaned forward, his gaunt face looking particularly hideous in the shadows. "Tell me, was the hijacking real or fake? Or just a play they wrote themselves?"
The council members exchanged cautious glances; no one dared to speak easily. Only the candles crackled in the silence, as if answering the King's suspicion.
Varys's voice slid through the tense air like silk. "Whether it is true or false is impossible to distinguish now, and no longer matters. What matters is that the Iron Islands clearly harbor the ambition to occupy the Stepstones."
Aerys II bared his teeth, asking like a provoked beast, "Lucerys Velaryon, while their main force is away, what if the Royal Fleet strikes the Iron Islands now?"
Lucerys Velaryon maintained the composure of a fleet commander. "Your Grace, I fear such a move would lack just cause and draw condemnation from the Seven Kingdoms."
"Lack just cause?!" Aerys II shot up from the Iron Throne, the sharp blade slicing his sleeve. "Have they paid their taxes? Have they given their grain? Of the decrees sent to the Seven Kingdoms, only Highgarden has responded!" The King's voice trembled with rage. "Disobeying the King's command—is that not the best cause for war?" The candlelight flickered violently in the throne room, casting the King's twisted shadow on the stone wall like a mad dragon about to break its chains.
Lucerys Velaryon was silent for a moment, his voice steady as a deep pool. "Winter is coming. Our main fleet has gone to Braavos to purchase grain; our current reserves cannot support a war." He raised his eyes and continued, "Though the Iron Islands have marched on the Stepstones, they only sent two thousand men. Their main fleet remains at the islands. The odds of victory would be fifty-fifty at best, and we must guard against other powers taking advantage of the chaos."
Aerys II slammed the armrest in fury. "What use are you!? A mere Iron Islands..."
Varys interjected softly, like a viper flicking its tongue. "Why the haste, Your Grace? The Stepstones have always been a giant quagmire. If the Iron Islands truly dream of conquering it in one stroke, they will surely taste the might of the Kingdom of the Three Daughters." His slender fingers interlaced gently. "Even Prince Daemon Targaryen failed there. Their end will only be more miserable. When that time comes, wouldn't it be effortless for us to step in and take over?"
Aerys II snorted coldly, though a calculating light flashed in his eyes. "They got off easy. Fine, keep a close watch. Sooner or later..." The unfinished words echoed in the throne room, carrying threats and madness.
The candlelight wavered, stretching the shadow of the Iron Throne long, like a beast poised to strike.
---
On the vast ocean, the Redwyne fleet was cutting through the waves.
Paxter Redwyne stood on the deck of his flagship, the Golden Rose. He had just received an urgent message via raven.
As he unrolled the small piece of parchment, his usually calm face was instantly filled with disbelief. His fingers tightened unconsciously, nearly crushing the thin paper. "How is this possible..." he muttered, reading it three times to confirm.
The sea breeze blew his dark green cloak, but it couldn't blow away the shock in his heart.
The Iron Islands had not only reached the Stepstones but had captured Black Rock Island in such a short time! The news hit him like a rogue wave, catching him completely off guard.
He looked toward the distant horizon, as if he could see the burning sea. After a long while, Lord Paxter finally exhaled slowly and said to his adjutant, "Signal the fleet. Full speed ahead."
Seagulls circled and cried at the prow, as if they too were exclaiming at the shocking news.