Game of Thrones: Rise of the Supreme Dragon Queen

When it came to his area of expertise, the fat man with the garlic nose beamed red and bright, like a lightbulb.

With a sincere expression, he said, "Your Majesty, to be honest, the Iron Bank relies on lending and earns an annual profit margin of at least 10% to 30%.

In other words, on a 100-gold-dragon deal, we make about 20 gold dragons in profit.

If you don't believe me, you can go ask the other banks in the trade cities.

They're not as stable as the Iron Bank—somewhere between -45% and 64%.

Well, we only profit and never lose, whereas they might gain or lose."

"So, if I want you to act as grain middlemen, I'll have to give you at least 10% profit?" Dany asked.

"That... should be over 20%," the fat man rubbed his hands together, seemingly a bit embarrassed. "The average profit is around 20%. If you want blacksmiths to switch to selling flour, then the flour business must offer no less profit than being a blacksmith, right? Doesn't that make sense?"

"The loan interest the Iron Bank gave the Iron Throne is only six percent a year. How much lower is that than 20%?" Ser Gerold Dayne said coldly.

The keykeeper's plump face twisted into a bitter smile. "Ser Dayne, doing business requires risk assessment. Guaranteed-profit ventures naturally have lower returns; high-risk ventures must offer high profits, or else you go bankrupt.

Take sea loans, for example—they're extremely risky.

One small mishap and the ship sinks, the crew dies, the sea merchant jumps overboard, and our loan goes straight to the bottom of the sea.

That's why interest rates go as high as 80% to 500%, and even then, few banks dare to lend casually."

"What makes you think buying grain for the Queen is riskier than lending to the Iron Throne? The Queen has already deposited cash in the Iron Bank—how would she default? Meanwhile, the Iron Throne hopes you'll write off their bad debt before the next summer," Gerold's purple eyes were filled with scorn.

"The Iron Bank does not tolerate delinquency!" the fat man first declared solemnly, then smiled and explained, "The Iron Throne borrowed from us under the authority of the kings of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, using all of Westeros as collateral.

As long as the Seven Kingdoms have a king, as long as Westeros exists, we'll recover the principal and interest.

But if the Dragon Queen wants us to act as intermediaries—well, intermediaries are merchants, and merchants can suffer losses.

For instance, if the grain the Dragon Queen bought for millions spoils after five years of storage and becomes unusable, she'll definitely reject it, and the loss will fall on the middlemen."

Dany's expression shifted several times before she sighed and said, "I originally just wanted you to work for me."

But you insisted on jumping into the pit yourselves—who's to blame for that?

"Oh? Do tell," the fat man raised a brow.

"I want the Iron Bank to act as my grain purchasing manager. You'll receive a service fee but bear no risk. In that case, your cut shouldn't be 20%, right?" Dany said in a disheartened tone.

Fat Bessaro smiled and nodded. "Yes, if it's the kind of partnership you described, then at most it would be a 15% profit."

Then his face turned serious. "Your Majesty, you said it yourself—unlimited grain purchasing. That's a business worth tens of millions of gold dragons, spread across the entire continent of Essos. Do you know how much manpower and resources the Iron Bank would have to commit?

Just like in that earlier example, if you want a blacksmith to change careers, the new profession must yield greater profits than smithing.

For your grain acquisition plan, the full strength of the Iron Bank would need to be mobilized. It would severely disrupt our usual operations—it would practically mean we've transitioned from bankers to grain merchants."

"So, you don't want to act as my purchasing manager—you want to be large-scale grain merchants and sign a sales contract with me as the seller?" Dany confirmed again.

"Exactly. You only need to deposit the gold in the Iron Bank and pay a 30% down payment. In five years, we guarantee to deliver grain of equal value.

As for how we buy the grain, at what price, how we store it—that's none of your concern.

And if you pay five times the cost, we can even ship the grain directly to Dragonstone," Bessaro said with confidence.

The Dragon Queen reluctantly nodded and asked, "One last question—how much grain can I expect in five years?"

"That depends on how much gold you have," Bessaro replied.

"So confident?" the Dragon Queen raised her voice.

"Current grain prices are roughly 200,000 gold dragons per ten thousand tons. The upper Rhoyne region is fertile and can yield two harvests per year. But let's assume only one, considering the coming winter. Each acre of arable land should produce about 200 catties of grain. Ten thousand tons would need around 100,000 acres.

The Andalos Plain along the upper Rhoyne alone could be used to plan out one billion acres of farmland and pasture.

If, starting now, all one billion acres are sown with winter wheat, we could harvest one hundred million tons of wheat in a year. You'd need two billion gold dragons to buy it all. Does Slaver's Bay have two billion gold dragons?" Bessaro asked confidently with a smile.

Andalos was the ancestral homeland of the Andals, bordered to the west by the Braavosi Sea and to the east by the upper Rhoyne, with tall mountains to the south.

Though the terrain was mostly hilly, its proximity to water and mountains created many fertile plains, well worthy of an emperor's foundation.

Unfortunately, Essos was plagued by too many civilizational conflicts. Even the once-mighty Andals of Westeros couldn't hold on to their ancestral lands.

Today, the Andals in Essos are nearly extinct, and Andalos has fallen under Braavosi control.

Andalos now supplies Braavos with almost all its grain, meat, dairy, and materials.

Yes, the watery city of Braavos has a vast sphere of influence and no food shortages.

But the fat man was clearly exaggerating.

Forget a billion acres—even if Andalos had two billion acres of arable land, arable doesn't mean cultivated.

At the very least, you need farmers to work the fields!

Even mighty Celestial Empire doesn't have 2 billion acres of cultivated farmland!

Slaver's Bay is at least ten times more fertile than Andalos. Two large rivers, the Kaewen Plain, and hundreds of thousands of square kilometers of rich land.

But due to limited population, even now, less than 20 million acres of farmland are being effectively used.

There's no doubt Braavos has fewer people than Slaver's Bay—no way they could cultivate a billion acres of wheat.

Still, Dany didn't really care if the fat man was exaggerating, as long as he could deliver the grain she needed.

"I have fifty million gold dragons in gold, eight million in silver, and about ten million in jewelry and ornaments."

Dany named a shocking figure. Both Gerold Dayne and the First Sword showed visible shock, but the Sea Lord and Bessaro remained composed.

After all, anyone who had visited the Iron Bank's gold vault wouldn't be impressed by a few tens of millions in "petty cash."

"Well... we don't accept silver," Bessaro said hesitantly.

Don't be fooled by silver being worth only eight million gold dragons—its volume is more than fifty times that of fifty million gold dragons.

Transporting it over thousands, even tens of thousands of kilometers—would the Iron Bank actually lose money?!

"If they won't accept it, so be it. I need to keep some money in Slaver's Bay to establish a bank," Dany said casually.

"This…" Belaso's eyes lit up as he asked with a friendly smile, "Would the Iron Bank be allowed to invest?"

"No," Dany replied. "I intend to build a national bank—no foreign investment will be allowed. But you are welcome to open a branch of the Iron Bank in Slaver's Bay."

"Wonderful!" Belaso was even more delighted.

The Ghiscari may be degenerate now, but they've done two things exceptionally well:First, they maintained complete economic independence. Across the whole of Slaver's Bay, there isn't a single foreign bank.Second, even though their own Temple of the Gracious Gods has become a brothel and their faith lies in shambles, they've staunchly resisted foreign religious influence. They're perhaps the only country in the world without a Red Temple.

Yes, even the port cities of Westeros have Red Temples.

"Lastly," Dany said, "I need a fleet—either rented or purchased—along with a crew of sailors. They must set out immediately for the Wall and Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, to bring the wildlings across the Narrow Sea to spend the winter."

"Wildlings? Are you planning to use the wildlings from beyond the Wall to attack the city-states along the Narrow Sea?" the Sealord exclaimed in alarm, immediately shaking his head. "Braavos cannot be part of such a transaction."

"Is Braavos part of the Alliance too?" Dany asked calmly.

"Braavos opposes slavery—how could we join the Alliance? But we also do not want to see the political landscape of the Narrow Sea changed. That would be against Braavos' interests," the Sealord said firmly.

"I only want to find a piece of unclaimed land in the Disputed Lands, so the wildlings can survive the winter," Dany sighed.

"Heh, do you really believe that yourself?" The Sealord sneered.

Dany turned to the plump key-holder sitting nearby, who had been listening with a smile. "Braavos isn't the only place with ships. You can't stop me. So how about this—you make money, I save time and effort, and everyone walks away happy?"

A gleam flashed in the fat man's eyes. "Must you bring the wildlings to the Disputed Lands?"

"I signed a Tripartite Lease Agreement with them—a sacred covenant that cannot be broken," Dany replied, her tone gentle but resolute.

The fat man glanced at the Sealord, whose expression had turned grim, and said hesitantly, "This is a serious matter. We'll need to discuss it.

As for the grain procurement regulations, those also require detailed discussion. Perhaps Your Majesty would stay for a few days at the Sealord's Palace, so we can negotiate thoroughly?"

Dany shook her head. "I leave tonight. Whether or not you'll sell me the ships—just say the word. As for the grain contract, Ser Gerold Dayne is fully authorized to handle it. As a White Knight, he has the Queen's full authority to sign on her behalf."

Belaso leaned toward the Sealord and whispered just loudly enough for Dany to hear, "I'll go ask the Maesters and the Keyholders? They're by the Moon Pool."

The Sealord's face changed—he was shocked and angry. "When did this happen? Why didn't I know anything about it?"

Looking at Dany, Belaso replied to the Sealord, "They're very interested in the Dragon Queen's arrival. They followed behind your fleet in a purple ship—an impromptu decision."

The "Sealord" is the ruler of Braavos, holding power equal to that of a king.

Under the Sealord, there are no dukes or earls. The city is governed by learned Maesters and the Iron Bank's Keyholders.

The "Maesters" of Braavos are as knowledgeable as those of the Citadel.

But their roles are entirely different. Braavosian Maesters wield greater power and have more direct administrative authority.

In modern terms, the Citadel's Maesters are akin to university professors, whereas Braavosian Maesters are more like "Imperial Scholars."

Yes—similar to the literati of ancient China, who formed the civil service of Braavos.

Of course, there's a key difference. The title of "Maester" in Braavos is more like a noble title—it can be inherited.

So, if a father becomes a Maester, only his son can inherit his position as Maester.

Naturally, to inherit the family's Maester title, the heir must meet the required level of knowledge and ability. Fools and idiots need not apply.

The "Keyholders" are the managers of the Iron Bank, comprised of shareholders, financiers, keyholders, and moneylenders.

Strictly speaking, the fat man Belaso is also a "Keyholder."

Together, the Maesters and Keyholders form the true ruling class of Braavos. Even the Sealord is elected from among the citizens by them.

The election process is mysterious and complex. It's rumored to involve the prophecies of Moon-Singers and the "oracles" of the Many-Faced God. The common folk can't make heads or tails of it their entire lives.

(End of Chapter)

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