As one of the Nine Free Trade Cities, Braavos is the most distinctive—and also the most powerful—among them.
It is composed of a chain of islands at the northwestern edge of the continent of Essos, situated at the meeting point of the Narrow Sea and the Shivering Sea.
Moreover, the coastline extending southward from Braavos is collectively known as the Braavosi Coast, a designation that proclaims Braavos's sovereignty.
However, in terms of rule and politics, Braavos has neither a king nor a prince. The one who holds power here is the Sealord.
The Sealord is a ruler chosen from among the citizens by the city's magisters and keepers, through a process that is mysterious and complex.
Once selected, the Sealord holds the position for life.
Historically, Braavos has differed from the other Free Trade Cities in that it was never part of the Valyrian Freehold. Instead, roughly five hundred years before Aegon's Conquest, it was founded by refugees who fled Valyrian enslavement.
It is said that in ancient times, the slaves who manned the oars of a Valyrian fleet rose up in rebellion and seized the fleet.
Later, being unable to withstand the Valyrians' magic dragons, they chose to distance themselves as far as possible from Valyrian power.
These people took to their ships and chose to flee north across the Narrow Sea. In the end, under the guidance of the Moon Singers, the fugitives arrived at this archipelago set within a saltwater lagoon, often shrouded in thick fog.
Among them were Andals, Summer Islanders, Ghiscari, Naathi, Ibbenese, Sarnori, as well as pure-blooded Valyrians burdened by debt or crime.
Some were trained slave soldiers; some were bed slaves, cooks, grooms, stewards; others were skilled carpenters, blacksmiths, stonemasons, laborers, as well as fishermen, kitchen slaves, and the like.
And just over half a year ago, this city once founded by refugees welcomed another new group of refugees.
They had originally been an exceptionally powerful house, one that possessed its own name—Lannister.
"Braavos will not involve itself in the wars and politics of Westeros. Our previous dealings with you were merely a transaction of the Iron Bank."
"And now that transaction has already ended. The Iron Bank will not pay the price for your failure."
As one of the representatives of the Braavosi Iron Bank responsible for this negotiation with House Lannister, Tycho Nestoris sat upright at the head seat of a reception hall within the Iron Bank, his posture straight as he looked at the woman before him.
His expression was cold, his tone calm.
As his words fell, another voice followed closely after.
"According to our assessment, continuing to invest in you is no longer something that can bring profit to the Iron Bank."
"Furthermore, Lady Genna Lannister, I believe I must remind you that your previous failure has already caused you to lose what you were able to offer as collateral."
The other Braavosi Iron Bank representative participating in the negotiation with the Lannisters was Noho Dimittis. He added from the side, his tone carrying a trace of displeasure.
The attitude of rejection in his words was unmistakable.
After issuing this warning to Genna, he even raised a finger and tapped the long table before him, the displeasure in his voice intensifying by several degrees.
"And I believe I should also remind you that more than a hundred years ago, your family's Tytos Lannister once privately extended loans to other lords. This caused a rift between the Iron Throne and the Iron Bank, and also left your family's credit far from ideal in the eyes of the Iron Bank."
"So now we refuse your loan request, and we will additionally pursue the remaining shortfall caused by your previous defeat in war."
"The Iron Bank does not permit arrears."
The moment the parties had just taken their seats and the negotiation had only just begun, Tycho Nestoris and Noho Dimittis were already directing an oppressive gaze at Genna, who had come to apply for the loan.
Yet in the face of their deliberate pressure, the expression on Genna's face showed little change.
On the contrary, she did not even look toward the two who were pressing aggressively from the opening moments. Instead, her gaze shifted to the person seated between them—the one who truly held the authority to decide this matter.
This man appeared to be over fifty years old, bald on top, with short hair around the sides mottled with gray.
He wore a plain gray-brown outer garment, yet from his chest hung an exquisitely decorated key, fashioned of gemstones and gold.
He was an official of the Braavosi Iron Bank, a descendant of one of the Iron Bank's twenty-three founders, and also one of the Iron Bank's current keyholders.
Each keyholder possessed a key that could open the bank's enormous underground vault, and this represented his status.
At the same time, being able to sit here also represented his authority, and his stance.
Bessaro Reyaan was very fat, and the chair he sat on was three times the size of the chairs of the two Iron Bank negotiating representatives beside him.
Facing Genna Lannister's gaze, he remained silent, and the attitude he displayed was clearly the very meaning of what Tycho Nestoris and Noho Dimittis had said.
But that could not fool Genna Lannister.
Because if the Iron Bank truly thought that way, then there would be no negotiation this time.
If the person in charge did not speak, then no matter how long Tycho Nestoris and Noho Dimittis talked, it was nothing more than a negotiating tactic.
So, seeing that Bessaro Reyaan would not speak, Genna Lannister gave a light laugh.
"Yes, we do not deny the failure of this war, but we have not lost to the point of having nothing."
"Compared to the Baratheons, House Lannister clearly understands what money truly is."
"So that is the reason we can sit here again, isn't it?"
Genna Lannister's words counted as a counterattack to what Tycho Nestoris and Noho Dimitis had said earlier.
Hearing her words, Bessaro Reyaan lifted his eyelids and glanced at her.
"Sitting here does not mean we should accept your application and wipe your asses for you."
"So I think we should stop going in circles. I am very busy. Later I still have to go to the Bloody Hand to watch a performance. Phario Forel has created a new play."
Bessaro Reyaan lost his patience, and his tone sounded somewhat impatient.
He could not be bothered to spend time on this kind of going-in-circles business, because in his view it was utterly useless, and he had never cared about any negotiating skills.
After all, to him, whatever chips you had, you put them on the table—nothing was more solid than that.
Genna Lannister understood what he meant, and she did not mind his contempt.
Immediately, she let out a long breath, and her expression also became serious.
"Our previous terms remain unchanged, and as for this time, House Lannister promises you that as long as we can succeed,"
"then, in the course of this process, any land that your forces seize and are able to hold will all belong to you."
"House Lannister will recognize your legitimacy over this land in the name of the King, so long as after obtaining the land, you also acknowledge Lannister rule."
Seeing Bessaro Reyaan's attitude, Genna could not be bothered to continue pulling back and forth in negotiation, and directly laid out her greatest sincerity.
Caught off guard by her words, Tycho Nestoris and Noho Dimittis instinctively exchanged glances. They had not expected House Lannister to be willing to pay such a price.
Yet in response to the "sincerity" offered by Genna Lannister, the keyholder Bessaro Reyaan showed no expression on his face.
"The lands of the North of Westeros are meaningless to us, not to mention that this is nothing more than a pie drawn on paper."
"When you say this, do you believe it yourself?"
Bessaro Reyaan was indeed not as indifferent as he appeared. Genna Lannister accurately seized upon this point. She shook a finger lightly, the corners of her mouth lifting into a smile.
"A piece of legitimate land, belonging exclusively to you—or rather, to your family. You can multiply and develop upon this land. You can obtain all production and taxation from it. A hundred years, a thousand years—this is not a difficult matter for you."
"Of course, how exactly you do it is not our concern. House Lannister looks only at the result."
Seeing that the woman had seen through his thinking, Bessaro Reyaan did not refute her, but still shook his head.
"But we cannot see any hope of your victory. In our assessment, this will most likely become a bad debt, and that is something the Iron Bank cannot tolerate."
"So no matter how much you say, it has no meaning."
"Oh—is that so?"
Seeing that this keyholder of the Iron Bank was not so easily dealt with, Genna Lannister could not help but narrow her eyes. At this point, she instead found herself somewhat unable to grasp what Bessaro Reyaan truly wanted.
House Lannister had already shown ample sincerity. The Iron Bank should not have been so unmoved.
But with this old fox still refusing to reveal his tail, she could only probe tentatively. "But isn't it precisely because of this that you can obtain more?"
As she spoke, Genna Lannister raised her hand and extended her fingers, beginning to count.
"White Harbor, the Fingers, the Three Sisters—these ports and bays all happen to lie directly opposite Braavos. If you possessed these, I think it would certainly be a very good thing for you."
"And if what you are truly worried about is simply that our chances of winning are not high."
As she spoke, Genna Lannister carefully observed Bessaro Reyaan in front of her.
She keenly noticed that the man before her still showed no significant reaction to the things she had said.
So she immediately shifted the topic.
"If there truly were no chance, then why would I be sitting here negotiating with you?"
As Genna Lannister spoke, she suddenly took a letter from within her clothes, placed it on the long table, and pushed it toward the three Iron Bank envoys seated opposite her.
"We are not limited to just you as allies."
Noticing her movement, Bessaro Reyaan and the other two instinctively lowered their heads to look at the letter on the table.
The emblem upon it was a golden sea monster against a black background.
Seeing this, all three showed a subtle change in expression and exchanged glances with one another.
Meanwhile, Genna Lannister continued speaking at length.
"My brother has already begun his actions, and he has achieved corresponding results. And what I must tell you is that his opening has gone rather well."
"After taking Last Hearth from House Umber, he already possesses sufficient strength. After that, he will lead these several thousand troops southwest, in order to gain greater strategic depth."
"He will draw the attention of House Stark and, by doing so, restrain the power of the majority of the northern lords."
"Under such circumstances, it will be a very good time for our ally to enter the field."
"Most importantly, they will bring us a powerful fleet and a seasoned army. There is no need to worry about whether they are merely deceiving us, because they have objectives they must achieve. They will do what they are supposed to do."
"In that case, I think that House Bolton, which has already allied with us, will also largely not remain silent."
Having thrown out this final trump card, Genna Lannister no longer continued to probe. Instead, she placed all of House Lannister's current plans and intentions—along with the true key to Lannister victory—openly upon the table.
She said everything she could in one breath, and could not help but feel a measure of resolve in her heart.
Although, up to this point, it was not impossible for House Lannister to continue on its own.
But if the Iron Bank were to lend its assistance, then their entry into the struggle would become the final straw that broke the camel's back.
And that was precisely why Genna had chosen to come here only now.
"They have already made all the preparations. What remains, as far as the Iron Bank is concerned, is nothing more than going with the current."
Genna Lannister now had a ninety percent confidence of success.
After all, from the Iron Bank's perspective, what they were able to put on the table at present should already be enough to move them.
Upon hearing Genna Lannister's words, the three men led by Bessaro Reyaan fell silent.
After the three exchanged glances once more, Bessaro Reyaan, under Genna Lannister's tense gaze, reached his hand toward the letter.
In the vast hall, the atmosphere grew heavy as Bessaro Reyaan unfolded the letter and began to read.
As if a storm were about to break.
It was not until an unknown amount of time had passed that Bessaro Reyaan finally put down the letter in his hand and casually pushed it aside.
Then he placed both hands on the long table, and for the first time since the negotiation meeting began, that calm gaze of his became exceptionally sharp.
"The Iron Throne still owes us debts. Up to now, they have not defaulted. If we support you, who will make good this loss for us?"
"And we also need a reason."
Bessaro Reyaan propped his thick, stubby fingers beneath his chin and spoke slowly.
Seeing that he had finally loosened his stance, Genna Lannister at last let out a sharp breath of relief in her heart.
To say that she felt no pressure would be a lie.
Because although she appeared to have laid out her bargaining chips, Genna knew very clearly that both she and the Iron Bank understood that all of this was, in truth, illusory.
And the real key point still lay with the Iron Bank itself.
Only when they committed real gold and silver would House Lannister's illusory promise truly become solid and tangible.
And that outcome depended on whether the Iron Bank thought the same—and whether it wished to obtain even greater profit.
"We naturally will not forget the Iron Bank's rules. I can promise you here that as long as House Lannister waits until it sits upon the Iron Throne, this debt will be borne by us."
"And on that basis, we will also place half of the royal assets into your Iron Bank for safekeeping."
In a calm and unhurried manner, Genna once again put forward an enticing promise.
As for the so-called reason mentioned by Bessaro Reyaan, the corners of her mouth revealed a faint, barely perceptible smile of disdain.
"As for the issue of reputation that concerns you, I think that right now may be a very good time for you to collect debts."
"And if you truly are able to recover the debt that Robert Baratheon owes you, then every additional gold dragon you obtain will be pure profit. House Lannister's commitment to the previous debt will still stand."
It had to be said that this was indeed a heart-stirring benefit, even if it appeared merely as icing on the cake atop the earlier promises.
But since Genna Lannister had already shown her sincerity and even found a reason for the Iron Bank, how could the Iron Bank fail to show its own sincerity?
Bessaro Reyaan smiled for the first time. So excessively fat was he that his eyes narrowed into a single slit.
Yet the keyholder did not answer immediately. Instead, his gaze dropped, settling on the sea-monster emblem upon the letter.
"I have heard that the king called Kal Baratheon has hatched a dragon?"
"Lady Genna Lannister, on behalf of the Iron Bank, I promise you this: if the Iron Bank can obtain it, then we will not only provide you with another interest-free loan, but will also remit this debt for you."
"But, Lady Genna, you must guarantee that the Iron Bank will truly be able to take actual possession of this dragon."
"That is our requirement."
After half a day of discussion and mutual maneuvering, Bessaro Reyaan finally expressed the Iron Bank's true intention.
When he said this, his smile was deep, his eyes gleaming with gold.
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