The day after the talks with the representatives from the Faith and the Citadel saw two declarations being sent out from the Starry Sept and the Citadel respectively. It basically was a public acknowledgement of the claims of Prince Quentyn Martell and declared to the world that the Faith of the Seven and the Citadel would accept the patronage of the newly constituted Kingdom of Southern Westeros.
With this declaration, Quentyn Martell declared himself the King of the entirety of Southern Westeros and laid claim over the Kingdoms of Dorne, The Reach, The Crownlands and The Stormlands. This declaration was received with elation in the South and dismay in the North, and wrath in the Stormlands as Quentyn had publicly declared that he would claim the homelands of the ruling King of United Westeros Robert Baratheon himself.
In Essos, it was met with caution and worry, especially from the Free cities which had trade agreements and debts with the Iron Throne, who were now faced with enormous losses as the possibility of the continued existence of the Iron Throne and United Westeros itself was now in question. After the decimation of the Westerlands, no one dared to question the military acumen of the Prince of Dorne, and the defeat of the Iron Throne itself was acknowledged as a real possibility. These parties immediately began calling in debts with the various parties involved in the Rebellion out of fear, and the most aggressive among them was the Iron Bank, which added to the headaches of Hoster Tully who in the absence of the wisdom of Jon Arryn and the wealth of Tywin Lannister truly found himself at his wit's end.
Heedless of the troubles plaguing Kings Landing, the plans for the coronation of Quentyn Martell were running along briskly, now that the Dornish contingent had arrived in force. Lady Myriah Martell, the nominal head of House Martell had taken over the preparations for the coronation with gusto, much to the chagrin of Olenna Tyrell.
Another curious thing that was observed by onlookers was that whenever the Lady Janna Tyrell attempted to speak with the Prince alone, she would find the Lady Ashara Dayne arriving at the same time. This led to many obdurate and embarrassing moments and created a real risk of ruining the joyous atmosphere prevalent in the city. This awkwardness was finally resolved when the matriarchs of the two houses, Myriah Martell and Olenna Tyrell met each other and had a frank discussion alone for two hours, and after that meeting, the shadow dance between the noble women was put on hold much to the relief of the Lords and Peasants alike. It was no secret that the Prince himself was losing patience and had been about to intervene personally, and no one wanted the Prince angry at the moment. And like this, Quentyn Martell's headache resolved itself without requiring his intervention.
However, all that came to a pause, when an embassy from Braavos demanded immediate audience with the Prince on the eve of his coronation, and ignored all requests to withhold the request until the coronation. The Braavosi delegation went so far as to threaten calling in all debts from the Reach and Dorne if the audience was not granted.
When informed of this, Quentyn smiled in the same manner before he broke Bitterbridge which made even Oberyn shiver in anticipation. Finally, Quentyn gave orders for the evening court to be assembled in the Grand Hall of the Hightower. Accordingly, the summons was sent out and everyone prepared for the first court session under the now King Quentyn Martell.
That evening, when the court assembled, Quentyn Martell sat on the chair usually meant for the Lord of House Hightower, with Ser Barristan Selmy and Ser Arthur Dayne as his guards, while the Dornish contingent stood on the left side of the court, and the contingent from the Reach stood on the right side.
Soon, the envoys from Braavos were led in and the herald announced their names.
"Announcing, the honorable Syrio Forel, the First Sword of Braavos and the personal representative of the Sealord of Braavos!"
"Announcing, the honorable Tycho Nestoris, the envoy of the Iron Bank!"
Soon, the delegation of the Braavosi, with a small retinue of six guards, and two delegates approached and made the customary bows and greetings, after which Quentyn asked them to state their case.
As expected, it was the representative of the Iron Bank who spoke, while the First Sword of Braavos remained silent. This was an affirmation that the delegation of the Iron Bank spoke with the protection of the Sealord, as the First Sword was usually seen as his personal representative.
"Prince Quentyn," Tycho Nestoris began, at which there were heated murmurs in the court at the deliberate omission of Quentyn's new title as King, which was silenced after Oberyn slammed the butt of his spear to the ground two times in succession, and Nestoris continued.
"I am sent here by the orders of the keyholders of the Iron Bank, who are most worried at the outbreak of civil war in Westeros, and insist that the debts due to the Iron Bank be paid immediately. As such, I am here to request that the debts owed by Dorne and the Reach be paid immediately to avoid any further unpleasantness between all parties," the man spoke out politely, but firmly.
Immediately, whispers and murmurs started in the room, and Quentyn raised an eyebrow before replying.
"Then you are in the wrong place, Tycho Nestoris," he began, at which the man frowned at the lack of any courtesies preceding his name, which did not go unnoticed by the members of the court present.
"As far as I remember, the Kingdoms of the Reach and Dorne have no debts with the Iron Bank in their name. Of course, if individual lords among our vassals have taken any loans personally, then it is to them you must look, but as far as I am concerned, the ruling houses of these two Kingdoms have not taken any loans on behalf of their realms. Correct me if I am wrong, Grandmother, and you as well, Lord Tyrell?" he asked as he looked at his grandmother and Mace Tyrell who were seated on his left and right respectively.
"Your Grace," Mace began with his chest puffing up in pride, "It is a matter of pride in the Reach, that we have never needed to go begging for a loan from the Iron Bank. We are the second wealthiest realm in Westeros, well the wealthiest now that Casterly Rock will soon be losing that position, but neither I nor my ancestors have ever needed the wealth from the Iron Bank to tide us over," he finished pompously, as many loudly acclaimed that with cheers.
"Unbowed, Unbent and Unbroken are the words of our house, Grandson, and neither I nor my ancestors have ever seen the need to bow before the Iron Bank for a loan," Myriah spoke softly, as Oberyn and all the Dornishmen cheered in agreement.
"And there you have it, Tycho Nestoris, since neither Dorne or the Reach have taken any loans from the Iron Bank, I fail to see the need for this inappropriate and tasteless badgering by the Iron Bank. You have no debtors here, and as such I see no need to further waste our time with pointless talk as we are all busy here. However, since you are here, you may stay and attend my coronation tomorrow at the Starry Sept as representatives of Braavos, if you desire," he finished and was about to rise when he was interrupted.
"Unfortunately, Prince Quentyn, you are mistaken and a debt is owed to the Iron Bank. A million golden dragons by the Reach and half a million by Dorne, as part of the overall loan negotiated by the Iron Throne and these were the sums apportioned as the share of your two realms. And we would like it to be paid, immediately," the man finished as a deep silence befell the chamber.
"Preposterous!" Mace Tyrell bellowed with his jowls quivering in anger and rage, while Myriah and Oberyn became silent and stared at the envoy of the bank.
Before Mace could speak further, Quentyn raised his hand and the Lord of the Reach became silent. All the members of the court, especially Leyton Hightower, Olenna Tyrell, Anders Yronwood and Randyll Tarly were watching the scene with a gimlet eye.
"Then you need to go to Kings Landing and claim it from Robert Baratheon, for it is he who sits on the Iron Throne. Just because the oaf and his predecessors took a loan and apportioned part of the debt to us does not mean we are bound to honor it," Quentyn's voice cut through the silent hall and everyone became tense as the dialogue became more serious.
"Yes, and we heard something similar from Hoster Tully, who acts as the Hand, in Kings Landing," Nestoris spoke again, "He claimed that since the gold was apportioned to the Vassal Kingdoms, the responsibility for repayment falls to them or something like that," the man concluded, even as eyes widened among the nobility witnessed the exchange.
"Frankly speaking, the Iron Bank does not care which king sits on the throne, or whichever throne for that matter," Nestoris spoke again as he gazed at Quentyn with a look, as if daring him to deny the words. "We will have our due regardless, either from the Iron Throne or whichever body succeeds it," he finished in a lilt, as murmurs of outrage began to spread at the naked threat.
"I see," Quentyn replied, even as he stood silent for a moment before responding again, "Unfortunately, it seems that this time, the Iron Bank will not have its due," he finished curtly, at which Nestoris looked shocked, as did Syrio Forel and his companions. "Just because your keyholders were fools who made a wrong judgment and lent to those who had neither right nor the might to apportion their debt to us, does not mean we must bear the cost of others follies. Your request is rejected," Quentyn declared with a lofty tone and a smile, while Nestoris trembled in rage, before composing himself.
"One does not make an enemy of the Iron Bank, Prince Quentyn," the man spoke harshly, all pretenses of civility gone now as he glared at the Prince, "When princes or kings default on their debts or are foolish enough not to honor their agreements with the Iron Bank, the Iron Bank supports new princes and kings to appear. These new princes and kings then honor the previous debt along with paying back the money the bank loaned them in claiming their new power, lest they suffer the same fate as their predecessors. Kings come and go, but the Iron Bank remains eternal," he finished harshly as roars of outrage came from the audience as many members of the nobility pulled out their swords, while Oberyn made to move forward.
Quentyn raised his arm again, and it took some effort to regain order in the court. "So, that is how it will be then?"
"That is how it must be," Nestoris insisted, "The Iron Bank has never suffered a loss, and it will not now," the man finished, at which Quentyn nodded in agreement.
"Then what about the loss I have suffered due to the actions of the Iron Bank? How will the Iron Bank recompense me for that loss I wonder?" he asked, at which Nestoris was taken aback, as was the rest of the court.
"I beg your pardon, Prince Quentyn, what loss do you speak of?" Nestoris asked, to which Quentyn sighed as he looked at the man.
"I have conquered only half of Westeros, despite possessing the ability to conquer it in its entirety. Simply, because I did not wish to prolong the war, nor increase the suffering of peasants and nobles alike. The oaf in Kings Landing will die by my hands, as he will come rushing to me. I have no need to go to the Crownlands to bring this farce of a rebellion to an end. However, you were the ones who financed the Rebellion and gave enough monetary support for the Rebellion, enabling them to purchase weapons, grain and steel alike. It is because of the wealth that you paved for the Rebellion and the arms and weapons they gained from that wealth, that they were able to inflict hideous losses on my army at Starpike and Bitterbridge," here Quentyn spoke in a most aggrieved and sad tone, while the members of the court made herculean efforts to not smile or smirk at the behavior of their King. There had been hideous losses, but all those losses were inflicted on their enemies and not themselves.
Nestoris, who was aware of all this purpled in rage, even as the young prince droned on.
"It is because of these losses that I am forced to halt my campaign, when otherwise I would have conquered all of Westeros," he finished in a sad tone, while Olenna's jaws twitched in mirth. The boy was spewing shit, but this was shit worth its weight in gold, and it had been a very long time since she had been amused like this.
"Now, since it is because of the Iron Bank that I am forced to endure this loss, I believe I too have a right to claim compensation from the Iron Bank. Since I have lost half my kingdom, I suppose I must make up for it by invading Braavos and adding it to my Kingdom," he finished suddenly in a sinister tone, which led to a multitude of curses and words of shock.
"What?!" Nestoris almost screamed in shock as did Syrio Forel and his guards.
"Invade Braavos? What nonsense is this?" Nestoris shouted in outrage, while everyone turned to look at their new King in awe and fear. As far as memory went, it was always the Iron Bank threatening Kings and Princes alike, and never the other way around. Today, they felt as if their view of the world itself was being shattered.
"No, Nestoris, what is nonsense is the fact that mere coin counters like you to dare to presume yourselves capable of ordering around Kings like me," the voice of the Prince could have cut Valyrian steel with the chill contained in it.
"You have gotten too used to ordering around mere merchants with sell swords as guards, always hiding behind the house of black and white. Your threats may work on mere magisters and merchants, but here you are dealing with a King. I think you have gotten the wrong impression about me because of my age. I think I should explain in all fairness to as to who it is that your masters have dared to threaten," Quentyn continued, as everyone listened with rapt attention.
"Tomorrow morning, I will walk around the city, go to the harbor, speak with the men there and return. Three days later, a hundred men will sail into Braavos, walk into the Iron Bank and slaughter every living being there including your precious keyholders. None of them will return alive, but they will do so, because they know that their remaining families in Westeros will want for nothing for the rest of their lives. They need not sail from Hightower or Plankytown, they can travel to any port in Westeros and sail from there to Braavos. They can sail over to any other free city and make their way over land to Braavos, and it need not be necessarily a hundred men. A king's ire when roused is a thing to fear, something Braavos has no knowledge of since it has no King. Perhaps it is time Braavos had one," he finished, at which the already silent hall became boiling in uneasiness as all looked to their new King with no small amount of fear.
"Watch your words, My Prince, you are setting your Kingdom and Braavos on a course from which there is no return," Syrio Forel growled, as Tycho Nestoris had been shocked into a horrified silence.
"Do you know how I defeated Tywin Lannister?" the Prince asked again, as the eyes of Forel narrowed, even as the others in the room resigned themselves to being silent and watching the spectacle.
"Because I had more men, and because I was willing to let them die," he concluded brutally as the eyes of everyone in the room widened in horror and turned towards him in shock. "Although, everyone attributes the victory to my strategy, it was not strategy but butchery that won me the battle and peace for two generations. The Lannister's and I are in a blood feud till the end of time. So, I deliberately killed every man capable of bearing arms in the west, so that for the next two generations, they will not be able to raise an army to threaten me again. In the end, even if I am willing to let my men die, it is for a purpose, and an end result. A lord who wastes his men's lives due to pride and vanity like Tywin Lannister loses everything, while a Lord like me who sacrifices his men's lives for a desired goal, achieves it despite the cost. My men go to battle knowing that they die, but they know it is a life well spent as their kin will have nothing to want for. The cut-throats and the mercenaries, as well as the faceless men you send to recover your debts do so and risk their lives because you pay them, my men risk their lives for me because they want to. That is the difference between mere coin counters like you and a King like me," he finished in a curt tone, as the Essosi delegation reeled as if being physically struck.
"We have resources at our disposal that you cannot dream of," Tycho Nestoris growled in a strangled tone, to which Quentyn scoffed.
"All your wealth combined does not even amount to a quarter of the might that I can wield," the Prince of Dorne scoffed. "Your wealth merely grants you influence, but my position grants me authority. At a mere word from me, fifty thousand men can set sail right now and reach and burn Braavos to the ground within four days. Even with ten times your wealth, power of that magnitude will forever elude your grasp," he finished, as he looked at the Essosi.
"This audience is ended. The demands of the Iron Bank are rejected. As you are the backers of our enemies, we exercise the right to declare any debts held by or claimed from the Reach and Dorne to be null and void. You may leave, and do not return until you learn some manners and know how to talk to a king," he finished, and stood up indicating that the audience was truly well and over.
"Very well, My Prince, your terms have been heard and will be conveyed, but know this, the Iron Bank will have its due. Even the Targaryen's at the height of their powers with their dragons did not dare to deny the Bank its due. You will be no different," Nestoris replied stiffly and walked out, not realizing that it was only Quentyn's hand that had forestalled his death for his breathtaking breach of decorum.
As he watched the departure of the delegation, Quentyn narrowed his eyes and then turned to face his courtiers, especially his grandmother and uncle, as well as the Tyrell's and spoke curtly.
"Everything will be discussed after the coronation," he declared, and then left abruptly as the courtroom descended into chaos.
That night the ravens flew fast and furiously from the Hightower as word began to spread about what had transpired.
The next morning, as all the members of the Martell and Tyrell households woke up and finished their morning necessities and preparations, they convened for a breakfast, before proceeding to the Starry Sept.
As they all finished their breakfast, Quentyn suddenly stood up and everyone turned around silently to watch the new king speak.
"The coronation will not be held today," Quentyn declared as everybody turned to him in shock. Heedless of the shock he had caused, Quentyn continued. "Lord Tarly, assemble a company of five hundred soldiers and two hundred crossbowmen and head to the Starry Sept and arrest all the members of the faith within the Sept. If any of them resist, kill them on the spot," he ordered curtly while Myriah stood up aghast at the order, followed shortly by everyone.
"Quentyn!"
"My Prince! You cannot do this!"
"Please reconsider!"
"The Starry Sept is the holiest place of the faith! You will turn us all into sinners in the eyes of the world!"
Ignoring all protests, Quentyn turned towards Tarly and beckoned him forward. Then, in front of everyone, he picked up a quill and a piece of parchment and wrote something on it and handed it over to the Lord of Horn Hill who seemed apprehensive because of the order he had received.
As he looked at the note, a gamut of expressions went through Randyll's face, and he looked at Quentyn who nodded resolutely in agreement.
Steeling his face, Randyll nodded in agreement and gave a salute, "Your orders will be obeyed, My Prince," and he left the room much to the dismay of everyone present. As Tarly left, Quentyn quietly threw that piece of parchment into the burning brazier beside him and watched as it turned to ashes.
"My Prince, I believe we are owed an explanation for an act of this magnitude," Mace Tyrell spoke politely, but the strain was visible in his eyes. Olenna was watching everything silently but the old woman's face was very taut and her eyes belied her wariness.
"Quentyn, I have permitted you absolute freedom in how you handle matters, but this is something that affects the standing of everyone in this room, as well as the reputation of two kingdoms in the eyes of the world. You will explain your actions," his grandmother ordered, at which Quentyn sighed and nodded in agreement.
He slowly walked towards a window in the room, and even though his back was facing all the inhabitants in the room, they could hear his words. "The reason why I ordered Tarly to do what he did, is because all the Septon's and Septa's in the Starry Sept are disguised faceless men waiting to kill us all. If I am right, all the Septon's and Septa's in the Starry Sept have been killed yesterday night itself and have been replaced by those assassins who are now waiting for us!" he finished, while the members of the room reeled in shock and outrage.
"Impossible! The Braavosi would not dare to do so rash a thing! To attack the Starry Sept is to attack the faith itself! That is …," Mace blustered, even as his face paled, while the other's considered his words.
"This will ruin everything if true! The faith has called crusades for less!" Olenna whispered as she looked at the young boy in front of her hoping beyond hope that he was lying. When the boy still stood facing the window and deigned to turn back, her hopes were dashed.
"If this is true, once news breaks, there will be riots in the streets! Any Braavosi found in the street will be lynched on the spot," Leyton Hightower spoke out in a guttural tone while everyone grimaced.
"The riots are the least of our worries! There is a real risk of the Faith Militant reorganizing in response to this travesty," Myriah Martell spoke out, to which all the nobles in the room winced at the thought.
"Ser Baelor," Quentyn ordered in a soft tone, "Mobilize the city guard, and summon ten thousand men from the army. Arrest anyone from Essos and take them to the prisons for their own safety. Also, arrest the delegation from the Iron Bank and the Sea Lord, immediately. If they have already left by sea, mobilize the fleet to sail after that ship to capture them and bring them back. We have no time to lose. This must be done before Lord Tarly finishes his job. Lord Mace and Lord Leyton, you must prepare yourself to calm down the agitated small folk," Quentyn concluded, even as he turned back, and everybody saw the seriousness on his face.
"As you command, Your Grace," Baelor Hightower spoke out and quickly raced out of the room, as everyone turned to look at the Prince who still stood calmly, like a rock in the middle of a raging river.
"How did you know?" Oberyn asked his nephew, and everyone noticed that he did not question the Prince for proof of existence of the said faceless men. Which meant that he implicitly believed the Prince to be speaking the truth.
"Because of the behavior of the envoy of the Iron Bank, and because that is what they are known to do," Quentyn replied back. "There have been many instances where magisters and merchant prince's have denied the Iron Bank, only to be assassinated when celebrating their triumph. And the only time, when total stranger's will be allowed to come near my person, is at the coronation where the Septon's and Septa's will take me into the Starry Sept with minimal guard for the rituals to be done prior to the coronation. It is the only time that they can attempt to kill me when my guard is at its lowest. After all, I will need to kneel before the Septon who places the crown on my head. If it is a faceless man, instead of a crown, what awaits me will be a blade to my neck, in fact, it is what I would have done, if I were in their place," he finished, while the others looked at him as if he had grown another head.
"But why, why is the Iron Bank going this far? They have financed both sides of a conflict many times in the past, but this is naked interference in the internal struggles of Westeros. What stake does a bank, even one like the Iron Bank, have in the affairs of another continent?" Oberyn asked after a moments silence, to which everyone pondered upon his words.
"Lady Olenna,' Quentyn spoke out surprising everyone including the old matriarch of House Tyrell, "You asked me yesterday during our meeting with the citadel and faith as to who would invade us if not for the Rebellion, when I mentioned that the aftermath of the Rebellion would leave us weakened. You now have your answer," he smiled grimly, while the old woman looked as if she had bitten a sour lemon.
"In this case, Your Grace, I would have preferred that you would be proven wrong," the old woman admitted, while Quentyn gave a sad smile.
"Though it may have come as a shock to you all to see Braavos being so overbearing, it is no surprise to me. I have studied the ancient histories and discovered that for more than a century Braavos has been funding the enemies of Westeros in order to keep it disunited and downtrodden. For the Free cities of Essos, the concepts of monarchy and kings are anathema, and they have violently stamped out any attempts of creation of a kingdom of sorts in Essos. Whenever any family or dynasty proved powerful enough or showed the signs of being strong enough to impose sole control over a free city, they have been eradicated root and branch. And that hatred among the ruling classes of the Free Cities has passed on to Westeros because we allowed ourselves to be subdued by the Targaryen's," he ended softly, as looks of recognition dawned upon those at the table.
"Because the free cities were founded by former slaves of the Valyrian Empire, and because the Targaryen's were the last of the Valyrian nobility," Olenna whispered as things fell into place as she rapidly began to remember the lessons where she could recall Westeros and Essos being at odds. She was not the only noble at the table to do so either.
"It is in the interests of Essos that Westeros remains disunited and weak, so that we pose no threat to the Free cities, because despite all their wealth and power, we possess the one thing that they truly lack in abundance. A history and tradition of martial legacy, and the ability to wield entire armies, loyal ones at that. A strong Targaryen dynasty with the united armies of Westeros could have conquered Essos, so I believe that is why they have engineered dissension in Westeros time and again. Have you never wondered why exactly with a gap of a generation between them; there were four Blackfyre rebellions one after the other without fail? Every time a rebellion was put down and Westeros seemed to be on the path of recovery, a new Blackfyre would appear to derail the peace and drag Westeros into a new war; and why they received so much aid and succor in Essos despite being known as criminals in Westeros? Every request made by the Iron Throne to handover the Blackfyre's was rejected because unlike Westeros there is no central authority in Essos to act upon our requests, and they passed the requests around in the free cities like coins in the hands of a beggar," he finished quietly as the room became silent.
"Of course, this is all but speculation on my part, my doubts would need to be verified by the maesters and historians in the citadel," he added glibly, to which Myriah Martell spoke softly, "Disquieting speculation though," she replied, to which everyone gloomily nodded their heads and went back to their own thoughts, though now and then they would all glance to take a look at the young Prince.
Two hours later, a page arrived and announced that Lord Randyll Tarly had arrived and sought an audience, which was granted.
Soon, the Lord of Horn Hill arrived, and one look at him proved to everyone that the Prince had been right. Lord Tarly was hale but his armor and his face were covered with splotches of blood. His silence and his gait spoke more than any words he could have uttered at the moment.
"Your Grace, you were right," Lord Tarly spoke after greeting the Prince who scoffed in return, "Of course I was!"
"What happened, Lord Tarly?" Mace Tyrell asked in a rushed tone, because he was the one who had the most to worry about. The Starry Sept was one of the holiest sites of the Faith, and as Warden of the Reach, he was the defender of the Faith in the Reach.
"We approached the Sept and secured its surroundings, My Lord, and then I had my soldiers move in with the crossbowmen covering them all," Tarly replied and grimaced while clenching his fist. "About four Septa's and four Septon's each in the Sept, along with two members of the Most Devout refused our order, after which we attempted to subdue them, and then..." Tarly winced, at which others looked at each other in dismay while Leyton Hightower sighed in despair, "Let me guess, the Faceless men revealed themselves."
"Aye," Tarly nodded in resignation, "They fell upon us like a pack of wolves upon a flock of sheep. I have heard tell of their reputation, but to see it is entirely another thing. Before the last of them fell, the 10 of them took the lives of 91 soldiers before my crossbowmen got them all!" the Lord of Horn Hill shook his head in disbelief, which was mirrored in the eyes of everyone looking at him, save for the Prince.
"10 of them, and they killed 90 soldiers?! It seems the fearsome reputation of the Faceless men is well deserved indeed," Leyton sighed, even as he imagined the mountain of troubles coming his way once the news broke out. And break out it would, one could not keep secret an event of this magnitude. And as Lord of Oldtown, he would be the one required to quell the anger of the citizenry.
"Are you sure, you got them all?" the Prince asked after a moment, to which Tarly replied, "We managed to kill all the fake members of the Faith in the Starry Sept, and my men are now combing through the city to find out what happened to the original members," he replied back, to which Quentyn waved off his hand. "Do not bother, they are all dead. The faceless men never leave any loose ends. Still, try and make an effort to find their bodies. The least we could do is attempt to give them a decent burial at least," he sighed and stood up.
"Lord Tyrell, my apologies, but it seems you will be forced to take up the duties of being my Hand well in advance before my coronation. We must act swiftly lest we be overtaken by events beyond our control," Quentyn spoke out in a curt tone, at which Mace and everyone else looked at him with a surprised look.
A moment later Mace stood up quickly, because regardless of what one said about him, he was not totally incompetent and could see the coming danger quickly. "I am at your disposal, Your Grace," he said quickly, to which Quentyn nodded in appreciation.
"First, as soon as Ser Baelor returns with the delegation from Braavos in custody, arrange for a public execution and have the envoy from the Iron Bank as well as the First Sword of Braavos beheaded in full public view. Before the execution occurs, put all your scribes hard at work and have them transcribe word for word what transpired in the audience yesterday between myself and the Braavosi delegation," he rapidly issued a set of orders, and he was pleased to see that no one questioned them. Even the famously intemperate Olenna Tyrell seemed to grasp the severity of the situation and remained a silent spectator.
"After this event, it is all but guaranteed that we will be at war with Braavos. Not like we were not at war with them even before, but now, instead of supporting the Rebellion with just gold and provisions and such, there is now a real risk of Braavos openly sending in their own navy as well as the numerous sell sword companies in their employ to aid the Rebellion. The only way we can counter this is to get the narrative on our side in a way which cannot be countered by the Rebellion," he spoke quickly even as he paced around the room, while the newer members of the now constituted court finally saw the legendary brilliance attributed to their yet uncrowned King in action.
"The fearsome reputation of the Iron Bank comes from the fact that they have always utilized the Faceless men to get rid of those trying to avoid their debts, and in fact, the reputation of the Iron Bank in a way is naught but a reflection of the Faceless Men's own awe-inspiring reputation. Today, the scribes of the Reach will earn their weight in gold, because it is their words which will sway the people to our side and calm down any riots and forestall the attempts by the Most Devout to reconstitute the Faith Militant, which is the one thing that we cannot allow at any cost. Before you execute the Braavosi delegation, have the scribes read out word for word what transpired in yesterdays audience and then declare to the world that the Iron Brank and Braavos attempted to assassinate me during my coronation, and to do that, the Faceless Men dared to kill the Most Devout in the Starry Sept itself. Inform them of the fact that Lord Tarly and his men bravely fought a score of faceless men and retook the Starry Sept with heavy casualties. Then declare that the Braavosi delegation was guilty of smuggling those assassins and behead them in public. Afterwards, issue the following decrees in my name as the King of Southern Westeros as the initial response to the attack on my person as well as for the crime of defiling the holiest place of the Faith of the Seven," he continued, while the pages in the room began to take notes of his orders while Mace, Oberyn, Randyll and Leyton listened with rapt attention. Myriah Martell and Olenna stood at the side and watched as the Prince smoothly took control of the situation and rapidly began to issue orders to quell any troubles before they began.
"First," Quentyn continued, "From now on, a state of war exists between the Free city of Braavos and the Southern Kingdom of Westeros. As such, no trade of any sort is permitted with Braavos. All Braavosi traders within Dorne and the Reach are to be immediately arrested and their cargo is to be seized, and after that, those traders are to be expelled from Westeros. Second, any business with the Iron Bank is prohibited on pain of death. Neither noble nor commoners, Lords or Merchants, none are to pay back any debts they owe to the Iron Bank; I do not want even a single copper, forget a gold dragon, to reach the coffers of the Iron Bank from the two Kingdoms. Third, inform the trading delegations from all the other free cities that if they seek to do business in Dorne and the Reach, they cannot do business with Braavos," he spoke quickly, at which Mace and Oberyn looked at him in alarm, and he raised his hand to forestall them.
"I know that this will be rejected out of hand, but the nature of refusal will allow us to see who stands with Braavos and who stands against us," he replied back, to which looks of comprehension dawned upon their faces.
"Anything else, Your Grace," Mace asked with unusual seriousness, to which Quentyn paused for a moment, before he nodded in return. "After the execution, send the heads of the First Sword of Braavos and the envoy of the Iron Bank along with the heads of those faceless men to the Sealord of Braavos. Send ravens to our agents in Braavos to spread the word of their execution, so that the Iron Bank cannot hide this blow to their prestige. At the same time, send a summons to Lord Paxter Redwyne as we will need to rethink our naval strategy now that we count the Braavosi Navy among our enemies. And lastly, to make up for the shortfall caused by loss of trade, send emissaries to Volantis and Slaver's bay to inquire about the possibility of increased trade with them."
"Your grace, trading with Slaver's bay may not be received well by the faith and the small folk, not to mention most of the vassal Lords," Mace cautioned, to which Quentyn chuckled in mirth.
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend, Lord Tyrell. And we are waging this war to avenge the insult to the faith of the seven, not to mention, we will not be trading in slaves. Contrary to its name, Slaver's bay does sell other goods despite slaves, and beggars cannot be choosers in times of strife. If there are any powers in Essos which possess the capability to withstand the threat posed by Braavos and trade with us, it is Volantis and Slaver's bay. Besides, once faced with the choice of trading with Slaver's bay, or those who attacked the Starry Sept, even the foolhardiest Lord will see reason. If not, he will be made to," the Prince finished, to which Mace nodded in agreement.
"Let's get to work, My Lords, before a frenzied mob forms to burn down our keeps around us. And mark my words, Braavos will pay dearly for this attack upon us, even if I have to land an army on Essos and put every man, woman and child in the families of the Braavosi ruling powers to the Sword," the King of Southern Westeros declared and walked, followed by all of his men.
Author's note: I am back, and I hope this lengthier chapter was worth the wait. While the Prequel was good, I hope to make the sequel better. Please provide any suggestions you think are worthwhile.