The Power Bestowed by Bloodline

Clan soldiers 50, plate armor 50 sets, shields 30, longswords 50, spears 20, longbows 30, warhorses 30, physicians 3, stableboys 3, barber 1, maidservants 3.

The manager overseeing the retinue was Steward Surana.

Such was the scale of the party for Lord Gryn's journey to the Red Keep.

The total cost of the merchant ship bound for the Red Keep was 52 Gold Dragons, and Steward Herschel had arranged with the merchant to pay the equivalent in furs.

Not having to fork over actual Gold Dragons was a small comfort to Gryn. He sighed, thinking that if he had the means, he really ought to prepare his own oceangoing vessel.

At Mermaid Harbor now, an average of one to two merchant ships docked each day. It was no longer the desolate scene from the beginning, finally starting to look like a proper port.

Gryn had arranged everything he could; the rest would have to accumulate slowly over time.

"My master, Steward Herschel has confirmed through inquiries with several merchants that the unit price for purchasing Unsullied in Astapor is 100 Gold Dragons. This price does not include transport costs."

Unsullied?

Gryn recalled that he had asked Steward Herschel to sound out the merchants about the price of Unsullied whenever he had the chance.

Gryn was no longer as keen on the Unsullied as he had been at the start.

After the war, House Crabb's absorption of the Mountain Wildlings had gone far more smoothly than he had imagined.

Gryn was very satisfied with the zero-cost Mountain Wildlings. Fierce and sturdy, give them a weapon and they were a warrior.

Once he fed them well and clothed them warmly, their loyalty was exceptionally high.

With training and discipline reinforced, they were all strong soldiers.

Unit price 100 Gold Dragons, ten Unsullied would cost 1,000 Gold Dragons, a hundred would be... In the future, the Dragon Mother would lure and subdue 8,000 Unsullied with a single bait, equivalent to 800,000 Gold Dragons. Tsk!

Without much effort, she would claim the treasuries of several major cities in the Free Cities. Tsk!

Thinking of this, Gryn, who was already envious, felt a twinge of jealousy... House Crabb had bled for the Dragon House!

House Crabb was a model of loyal vassals to the Dragon House. After the Usurper's War, House Crabb hadn't had a single good day, suppressed by the Red Keep for over a decade.

At the right moment, Gryn figured he could scheme to "swindle" some Gold Dragons from the Dragon Mother to soothe his wounded heart.

"Mm, I understand, Surana. How is Lady Lyanna lately?"

"After the news from Gulltown arrived, Lady Lyanna shut herself in her room for an entire day. Since then, her condition has been very good. I can feel she is at ease here. She trusts you deeply."

"Keep an eye on her. I'm not as attentive as you. Also, pay more attention to matters of her heart."

Surana, chin slightly lowered, her eyes flickered: "My master, I will arrange people and report to you promptly."

Hearing Surana's reply, Gryn raised an eyebrow, shifting his gaze from the sea to her: "Surana, thank you for understanding my intentions. House Crabb now has only me and my cousin Lady Lyanna. Lyanna's heart is too kind—that is a virtue worth praising, but it also makes her easy for schemers to exploit, especially in matters of the heart."

Gryn turned his gaze back to the vast sea and sighed softly: "You've watched Lyanna grow up since she was a child. I know you've always been fond of her. Don't worry too much. I am the lord, and as lord, I have responsibilities I must bear. But I will do my best to ensure Lyanna's future is always safe and happy."

Surana looked up and pressed her lips together: "In truth, you should have Lady Lyanna sign a document renouncing her inheritance rights to House Crabb. That would be greater protection for her. I originally intended to suggest this to you, but then I hesitated because you have no heirs yet. Others say I am too rational, but I know myself—I often waver at critical moments."

Gryn's thumb rubbed against his index finger: "Lady Surana, in my heart, you are like family. Before me, you may always speak your mind freely. Leave the decisions to me; you should not trouble yourself over this. As for Cousin Lyanna's inheritance rights... I would rather she find her own love."

"As you command, my master."

King's Landing, Red Keep, Tower of the Hand.

Petyr Baelish leaned against the balcony railing, his gaze fixed on the distant view, his eyes deep.

Lord Sheep-Shit, a Half-Wildling noble... Another figure of ridicule, yet... Hah!

After the proper notification through the Maester's Tower, in the long-peaceful land of Westeros, the name of Lord Gryn Crabb spread quickly. As a fresh hot topic, much intelligence about Gryn had gathered on Petyr's desk.

Basking in the grace of his ancestors, when House Crabb reappeared in Crabb's Lands with formidable strength, even after more than a decade, they easily reclaimed their influence, as if the people's hearts were with them.

Truly enviable, the deep-rooted authority that bloodline brings.

Truly unlikable, that bloodline which represents power.

The traditional force of bloodline supremacy was so stubborn that even the uncivilized wildlings were deeply influenced by it.

Compared to noble blood, ability became mere decoration.

Thus, only chaos is a ladder.

Petyr Baelish's gaze grew even deeper.

"Lord Petyr, how rare. From you, I can actually smell a certain anger."

Varys, with his completely bald head and wide, plump frame clad in a loose brown-red silk robe, clasped his hands together.

Petyr calmly withdrew his gaze, turning his gray-green eyes toward him. Varys gave a restrained smile and nodded in greeting.

Petyr Baelish curled his lips elegantly: "Lord Master of Whispers, is it your duty that makes you so full of curiosity? But I must tell you, your nose has failed you this time."

Varys's smile did not waver. "Lord Baelish, ever since I made your acquaintance, I have always read from your person an unfailing grace and exceptional wisdom. Even the slightest change in you draws my attention."

The elegant Petyr admitted to himself that he was growing more and more irritated with this Spider.

Petyr cautioned himself to act with care, always mindful that the Little Bird had its eyes on him.

Whatever he felt inside, Petyr Baelish kept a proper smile on his face. "Truly the sweetest tongue in King's Landing. Every conversation with you brings me great pleasure."

Varys inclined his head again in acknowledgment. "It is Lord Baelish's bearing that exudes such sweetness; I merely bask in your reflected light."

Petyr spread his hands, having no interest in continuing their discussion about tongues. His grey-green eyes shifted subtly as he changed the subject. "Our noble Queen, I hear, is suddenly in good spirits. Ordinarily, she would remain displeased for many days."

Varys moved to stand beside Petyr, his gaze also drifting into the distance. "Her Grace the Queen retains a pure maiden's heart. When she obtains something she loves, she naturally forgets her sorrows for a time."

Petyr's voice came out hoarse and resonant. "Something she loves? Lord Varys, your words carry hidden meaning."

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