The Slap of Love

Baron turned stiffly, each step heavy as if dragging invisible chains, making clear yet sluggish sounds on the cold stone floor. The pride of the heir to the Lord of Pike was crushed by his father's severe punishment. The words "Howling Cape" were like cold iron hooks, piercing his boiling rage, leaving only a dull ache of humiliation. He had expected a whipping, to have his skin torn open but feel a cathartic release – a warrior's badge. But forced labor? Cleaning barnacles under the scorching sun on the reefs like the lowest salt slave? This was a trampling of his status! In his peripheral vision, he caught sight of the spoils of war glinting in the firelight in the corner—gold coins from Myr, silk from Qohor—their radiance offered no solace now, but instead seemed like countless mocking eyes, silently ridiculing the shame brought by his "victory."

Yulon, on the other hand, appeared much calmer. He cast a thoughtful final glance at his father's back, as straight as a reef, appearing even more isolated and heavy in the flickering light of the hearth. He had anticipated his father's anger, and the punishment of confinement was within expectations, even welcome. The mountains of spoils, which seemed cursed in his father's eyes, were merely cold, exploitable resources to Yulon. His gaze finally settled on Lysa, who stood quietly in the shadows of the corner. Her calm, gray-blue eyes were like two deep wells, reflecting the dancing firelight in the hall, and perhaps mirroring some unformed thoughts in his own heart. He gave her a barely perceptible nod and turned to follow his elder brother.

The two walked side-by-side towards the heavy door in silence. Baron's chest was filled with rage and humiliation, with nowhere to vent, almost tearing him apart. Just as he was about to touch the door ring, he stopped abruptly, his iron-like hands gripping Yulon's slender shoulder fiercely! His fingers dug in, the force so great that Yulon yelped in pain, stumbling unexpectedly.

"You little bastard!" Baron's voice was squeezed through his teeth, carrying a hatred that even the sea wind couldn't blow away. His hot breath sprayed beside Yulon's ear. "If I hadn't brought you, you bringer of bad luck, Father wouldn't be this angry! I would have only gotten a whipping at most, not... not be sent to the 'Howling Cape' as a laborer!" The more he thought about it, the more hateful he became, his fingers tightening as if to crush his brother's shoulder blades.

Yulon grimaced in pain, but his deep blue eyes held no fear, only cold mockery and a hint of offended anger. He endured the pain, meeting his brother's fiery gaze without flinching, his voice low and cold. "Hmph, if it weren't for me, dear brother, you and your band of brutes would have been shot full of holes like porcupines at Havana Port! You owe me your life, have you forgotten so quickly? In the 'Old Way' of the Iron Islands, how does one repay a life debt?" He deliberately emphasized the words "Old Way."

"That's a different matter!" Baron roared, like a sea beast poked in a sore spot. "Ironborn settle debts clearly! I will repay you for saving my life! But this punishment is all because of you!" He stubbornly blamed his brother's presence for all his faults.

"Ha! 'Clearly,' you say!" Yulon scoffed, exerting force on his shoulder to break free from the iron grip. "Father is punishing you! He thinks that as the eldest son, the future King of the Sea Stones, you led the charge recklessly and almost dragged the entire Greyjoy family into the abyss! You're the one who's stupid, don't blame me!" His words came out rapidly, each one like a knife.

"Pah!" Baron spat furiously, a mouthful of saliva landing with a loud sound on the stone floor by his feet, as if that was his entire evaluation of his brother's words. He released his grip and shoved Yulon hard, making the latter stumble a few steps.

Just as the brothers were at each other's throats, the atmosphere so tense it was about to spark, King Kolen's cold and weary voice echoed from the depths of the hall, like a basin of ice water poured over them. "Enough! Before you go to your respective 'Reefs' and 'Desks,' go see your mother first!" Kolen didn't turn around, his voice filled with impatience and a hint of undetectable pain. "She's been crying day and night for you two reckless fools, her eyes are almost blind from crying! Give her some peace!" He paused, his tone returning to a commanding hardness. "Daggmo, you stay!"

Baron and Yulon were pinned in place by their father Kolen's roar. The reprimand about their mother's eyes being cried blind struck them both like whips. Their father didn't turn around, but his voice, suppressing pain, was heavier than any scolding.

The two turned silently and walked towards their mother, Lady Sansa Greyjoy's room. The air was filled with the scent of herbs and a stifling atmosphere. Their father's reprimand, like an invisible whip, dispersed the heat of the confrontation between the brothers. The anger on Baron's face was instantly replaced by a complex expression—concern for his mother, embarrassment at his weakness being exposed by his father, and a deeper sense of self-reproach. He shot Yulon a fierce glare, said nothing more, and then violently pulled open the heavy wooden door, disappearing into the shadows outside with his lingering ferocity and heavy steps.

Lady Sansa was propped up against pillows, her six-month pregnant belly a mound under the thin blanket. Tears had not yet dried on her pale face, and her eyes were red and swollen. Seeing her two sons enter, especially Baron, a wave of anger instantly overwhelmed her grief.

"Baron!" Her voice was hoarse yet sharp. She pushed herself up abruptly, and before Baron could react, "Slap!" A loud slap landed forcefully on his face. The force was so great that the eighteen-year-old Baron stumbled, a clear handprint quickly appearing on his face.

"If you want to die, fine, but why did you take Yulon with you! How old is he! Is that a place for a 5-year-old child?!" Lady Sansa's chest heaved violently, her eyes blazing with fear and anger.

Baron clutched his face, stubbornly holding his head high, his gaze dark, but he dared not retort to his mother.

At this moment, Sansa's gaze swept over Yulon, freezing instantly at his shoulder, exposed beneath his torn sleeve—a large, horrifying patch of purple-blue bruising, with a faint, pale white scar from an arrow graze, softened by seawater, visible at the edges.

"Gods!" Sansa gasped, her face instantly turning ashen, even paler than before. She turned sharply to Baron, her eyes almost spitting fire. She raised her hand and with all her might—

"Slap!"

Another, louder slap landed heavily on Baron's other cheek!

"You scoundrel of a brother! How did you take care of your younger brother!!" Sansa's voice was choked with tears and despair. "Do you want to kill him?! Do you want me to lose both of you?!"

Both of Baron's cheeks were burning and swollen. He gritted his teeth tightly, his fists clenched at his sides, making cracking sounds. His fierce gaze, like a poisoned dagger, stabbed viciously at Yulon. His eyes were filled with the fury of public humiliation and resentment towards his brother.

Yulon flinched from this gaze. His mother's protection had now become the most dangerous harbinger of death. He knew Baron too well; Baron wouldn't dare vent his anger on their mother, but he would definitely retaliate tenfold, a hundredfold, upon himself.

"Mo... Mother," Yulon endured the sharp pain in his shoulder, his voice carrying just the right amount of weakness and panic. "I... I feel so dizzy, and my wound hurts... Maester Craigon said I need to change the dressing immediately... I... I'll go find the maester now!" His words came out rapidly, giving his mother no chance to speak further or Baron to make a move. Like a startled fawn, he turned and stumbled out of the room, leaving his enraged brother and worried, weeping mother behind.

He had to leave this powder keg immediately. His brother Baron's eyes told him that a bone-crushing beating was only a matter of time.