Game of Thrones: Rise of the Supreme Dragon Queen

"What if I said I don't want the Iron Throne anymore? Would you believe me?" Dany asked with a strange smile.

"Heh heh ha!" The keykeeper and the Sealord both laughed along, clearly taking her words as a joke.

"Your Grace, five million gold dragons may sound like a lot, but once you quell the rebellion and stabilize the economy of the Seven Kingdoms, as long as you don't squander it like King Robert did, you could easily repay the loan within twenty years," Bessaro said soothingly.

"Five million means nothing to me—but I'm not willing to suffer that kind of humiliation. I'll be honest with you: even if I do one day sit on the Iron Throne, I won't repay a single copper coin owed by the Baratheons or the Lannisters."

"You're going to default?" The smile vanished from Bessaro's pudgy face, replaced by a dark expression.

"Dany, think carefully. The Iron Bank does not tolerate defaults," the Sealord warned.

"I know," Dany nodded and sighed. "If a king fails to repay his debt, you'll fund one of his rivals. That lord will take your money, start a rebellion, overthrow the old king, and become the new one—who then repays both the old king's debt and his own."

"Go ahead, do it. Go give your money to the Lannisters, the Tyrells—anyone in Westeros you want!" she waved her hand dismissively, adding with a note of mock encouragement, "I support you."

The Sealord and Bessaro exchanged glances, surprised by the Dragon Queen's reaction.

Could it be she thought the Iron Bank's gold wasn't as useful as her dragons?

"Perhaps we can set this issue aside for now," Bessaro suggested. "After all, a Lannister still sits the Iron Throne. Maybe the debt will be resolved before Your Grace reclaims it."

Bessaro once again smiled like a laughing Buddha, rubbing his fat hands together. "Now that business is done, shall we go to the Sealord's Palace? A grand banquet awaits Her Majesty! Preparations have been underway for over a week now, all for tonight's negotiations and the banquet that follows. At this very moment, nobles, singers, and poets from across the realm are gathering in the Sealord's Hall."

"I'll pass on the banquet. Let's finish one last matter, then I'll take my leave," Dany said with a wave of her hand.

"You're not attending the banquet? But it was prepared just for you," Bessaro frowned.

"I don't want to attend any banquet either. Let them entertain themselves," the Sealord muttered wearily.

A flicker of dissatisfaction flashed across the fat man's eyes as he glanced at the Sealord, but it disappeared in an instant. He quickly resumed his cheerful demeanor and nodded in agreement. "Very well, very well. What would Your Grace like to discuss?"

"The Iron Bank accepts deposits from all over the world, doesn't it?"

"Of course! Even Jade Sea Thunder Isle has an Iron Bank branch. The Bu dynasty in Yi Ti has borrowed around thirteen million gold dragons from us. Compared to that, the Iron Throne's debt is nothing," the fat man said proudly.

"Thirteen million? How did the Bu borrow that much?" Dany asked, shocked.

"Yi Ti is currently split among three emperors, with the nation divided into thirds. While they may not fight every year, there's at least a minor conflict every two years, and a major war every three. How could they not need money?"

"Has the Iron Bank lent to the other two emperors?" Dany asked coldly.

"No. Their dynasties are newly established, unlike the Bu who are already rotten with corruption. Besides, the other two each control major trade hubs, so they aren't short on funds," the fat man replied with regret.

"Will you take my money?"

"What?" the Sealord and the keykeeper exclaimed in unison.

"My gold in Slaver's Bay—do you want it?" Dany asked firmly.

"What do you plan to do?" The keykeeper's fat face was a mix of excitement and anxiety, beads of sweat quickly forming on his garlic-shaped nose.

"I want to buy grain—from the nine Free Cities."

"You wish to use the Iron Bank's credit as collateral to purchase grain from territory controlled by the enemy?" the Sealord asked, his tone laced with disdain. He shook his head. "A clever plan, but the Allies aren't fools. Why would they sell you the rations meant for waging war on Slaver's Bay?"

Dany smiled and said, "I'm not buying this year's harvest. I'll deposit the gold in the Iron Bank. You'll act as my agents, signing contracts with merchants who own land and grain. You'll handle the down payment and final payments, and you'll still be the ones purchasing the grain. But in the end, it will be delivered to me.

"Put simply, the Iron Bank will be the middleman for grain.

"From this moment on, and for the next five years, I want every piece of farmland in the world growing food—rice, wheat, corn, smoked meat, anything that can be stored long-term.

"For the next five years, I'll buy all the grain you can get, with no limit on quantity or time. I'll purchase it all at the highest price recorded from one year ago until today."

"What… what does that mean?" the Sealord was dumbfounded.

"Is it possible? Can the Iron Bank handle this?" Dany asked.

"I'm afraid it will cost you a great deal," Bessaro said, a glimmer of understanding flashing in his eyes. After exchanging a glance with the Sealord, a strange look of smug superiority appeared on his face, one that Dany couldn't quite place.

"In the past half month, both the High Septon in King's Landing and the Hightower in Oldtown have been frantically buying grain from major merchants in the Free Cities. Grain prices have already increased fivefold," he said solemnly, suppressing a grin.

The unexpectedly low grain prices caught Dany's full attention.

"Only five times higher?" she said in surprise.

"Uh… fivefold isn't low?" Bessaro looked at the Dragon Queen strangely. Was she some kind of delusional monarch, like the infamous 'let them eat cake'?

Suddenly, Dany thought of a terrifying possibility. She asked seriously, "How much funding do the Hightowers and the High Septon each have for grain purchases?"

"Well…" Bessaro hesitated for a moment, then reluctantly revealed the information that had cost them "a fortune" to uncover. "The Hightowers are expected to spend three million gold dragons—quite terrifying. They're the main reason for the price surge. The High Sparrow in King's Landing has five hundred thousand gold dragons. Combined, they've driven the prices even higher."

As expected!

Someone broke their promise.

The elder from Oldtown didn't play any tricks and honestly contributed three million gold dragons in cash. However, the *High Sparrow* sighed inwardly. Daenerys deliberately asked, "Where did the High Sparrow get the money? I remember he didn't receive support from the Starry Sept in Oldtown."

The Starry Sept was once the central seat of the Faith of the Seven and the sole shareholder of the Church Bank.

"Your Grace, that's a business secret. We must keep our client's information confidential," the fat man said hesitantly.

"Tell her. Tell her everything." Before Daenerys could say anything, the Sea King rubbed his waist and shouted, "The sooner we finish talking, the sooner I can go back."

An obvious expression of anger appeared on Bessaro's chubby face, but the old Sea King, exhausted and tortured by illness, didn't notice at all.

It was the usually silent First Sword, Quairo, who gave the fat man a sharp glare.

With just one look, the strange expression on the fat man's face disappeared, replaced again by a polite smile.

"The *High Sparrow* used the Church Bank as collateral to take out a loan of 2,777,777 gold dragons."

*(Latest novel first released at Six-9 Book Bar!)*

"What?" The Sea King exclaimed and immediately turned a sharp gaze to Bessaro, questioning him, "Why wasn't I informed of such an important matter?"

"It only happened a little over a week ago. Nahoren hasn't even returned with the agreement," Bessaro replied with his eyes lowered.

"Heh." The Sea King caught a glimpse of the wide-eyed, gossip-loving Dragon Queen and merely let out two cold laughs, refraining from making a scene in front of outsiders.

Daenerys looked at the two of them, clicked her tongue regretfully, and asked, "So, how was the rest of the gold spent?"

"About another 500,000 gold dragons were spent on weapons and armor. As far as I know, just in Myr alone, over ten thousand sets of Paladin gear were ordered—silver armor, rainbow cloaks, star swords—the gear of the Faith Militant. Also, artisans and iron ingots from Qohor, and crossbows and arrows from Tyrosh."

The fat man summarized, "The *High Sparrow* is no fool. With gold and grain in hand, he needed the power to protect them. Reviving the Faith Militant was the best choice."

Daenerys sighed and asked again, "Even so, that's only a million gold dragons spent. What about the rest of the money?"

"Isn't it obvious? Maintaining an army of tens of thousands in the future will surely be expensive. He had the Iron Bank transfer the cash to King's Landing as a precaution." The fat man shrugged and said matter-of-factly.

"A precaution…" Daenerys smiled bitterly.

One gold dragon has the purchasing power of around 12,000 RMB. So, 500,000 gold dragons is about 6 billion.

In summer, under normal conditions (no natural or man-made disasters), a pound of rice costs five coins; in winter, the price doubles to ten.

Now it's five times that—fifty coins.

If you buy grain across the Narrow Sea, you still need to transport it back.

Considering that King's Landing is located by Blackwater Bay, right beside the Narrow Sea, with a straight-line distance of 400 to 1,300 kilometers, adding shipping loss and freight costs—even if the Seven bless the journey and it all goes smoothly without a shipwreck—the cost would at least double (though it's certainly more), reaching 100 coins.

Even with divine help, the *High Sparrow* would only get 60 million pounds of grain.

Uh, 60 million pounds sounds like a lot. Converted to metric tons, that's 30,000 tons.

That seems like plenty.

But considering the population of King's Landing—500,000 locals plus an endless stream of refugees from the Riverlands—how much is that?

One person needs one pound of grain per day—and considering he has to feed tens of thousands of Faith soldiers, the average might even be higher. Let's say 300 pounds per person per year; the Faith can only support 200,000 people for one year.

Add in King's Landing's mysterious "brown soup," and the grain stores of nobles and merchants—*High Sparrow* doesn't need to feed everyone. He could probably keep things going for two years, three at most.

Hmm, calculated this way, it seems the *High Sparrow* does have a plan. Does he believe this winter will last just two to three years, like before?

"How much profit?"

"What?" Daenerys looked at the fat man, puzzled by his question.

Rubbing his plump hands, he smiled kindly and asked, "I mean, how much profit will the Iron Bank make as a middleman?"

"How much do you want?" Daenerys smiled.

"Well..." A glint of cunning flashed in the fat man's pig-like eyes. He started counting on his fingers and said to the Dragon Queen, "You see, for large-scale cross-border gold deposits and withdrawals, the fees range from 3% to 15%. Given the tense situation between Slaver's Bay and the Allies, at least 14%. But for someone like you, Your Grace, we'll only charge 13.5%—not much, right?"

"Hmm, not much." Daenerys nodded.

It really wasn't much. Shipping gold from Slaver's Bay to the nearest city, Volantis, would mean 6,000 to 7,000 kilometers by sea, through pirate-infested Summer Seas and the unpredictable Valyrian ruins.

Compared to the cost of the Spanish treasure fleets in the 17th century, a 15% commission wasn't bad.

After all, storing money in the Iron Bank allowed her to withdraw it anywhere in the world, saving greatly on transportation and security costs.

"And next comes the profit from being a temporary grain merchant."

(End of Chapter)

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