Chapter 397: House Jordayne

A column of soldiers wound its way through the sandy terrain, their banners fluttering in the desert wind. Most prominent among them was the two-headed eagle of House Caesar, followed closely by the falling star and sword of House Dayne.

At the front of the procession, several dozen armored knights surrounded a luxurious carriage.

Inside the carriage, Samwell and Nathalie sat across from each other, sharing stories of their lives over the past two years of separation.

It was clear that Samwell's tales were far more thrilling—full of adventure, intrigue, and peril. Nathalie listened with rapt attention, utterly absorbed.

When it was her turn to speak, however, Nathalie found herself recounting mundane matters of territorial development, feeling her stories paled in comparison.

Fortunately, Samwell appeared genuinely interested, asking detailed questions about Starfall, High Hermitage, and the trade between Eagle's Nest and the Dornish territories.

"...Most of the farmers in the Dayne lands are planting grapes now," Nathalie said. "Eagle Nest offers an attractive purchasing price, and they'll buy as much as the farmers produce, so there's no worry about unsold harvests. As for grain, we can buy it cheaply from the Reach anyway."

Samwell rubbed his chin thoughtfully and asked,

"What about the other territories?"

"It's similar in most of western Dorne. Blackmont, Sandstone, Skyreach—they're all growing grapes for Eagle's Nest."

Nathalie hesitated for a moment before voicing her concern.

"Sam, you've been paying high prices for Dornish grapes while selling us cheap grain. Won't Eagle's Nest grow poorer over time?"

Samwell laughed heartily.

"Since when does a Dornish lord care so much about the Reach's finances?"

Nathalie pouted, a hint of indignation in her voice.

"I don't want you to lose too much money. Maybe you should raise the grain prices a little? Really, grain is in short supply across Dorne, and it's not hard to sell. I know plenty of merchants in Starfall who buy grain from the Reach and sell it in eastern Dorne for two or three times the price."

Samwell shook his head.

"No need to worry. Eagle Nest has always maintained a trade surplus with Dorne."

"Trade surplus?"

"It means Eagle's Nest earns more money than it spends in trade with Dorne," Samwell explained. "Don't forget, the grapes we buy are turned into brandy at Eagle's Nest and then sold back to Dorne. The profit margin from the brandy far exceeds the difference between the grape and grain prices.

"Besides, brandy sells across the Seven Kingdoms. You really don't need to worry about me not making money."

Indeed, brandy had been gaining popularity rapidly. Eagle Nest was on its way to overtaking Arbor as the largest producer of spirits in the Seven Kingdoms.

This shift in the alcohol trade likely fueled the Redwyne family's deep resentment toward Caesar. With the destruction of the Arbor fleet, the Redwyne family's decline seemed inevitable, leaving Eagle Nest's distilleries unchallenged in their path to prosperity.

"That's a relief." Nathalie sighed softly, her expression betraying genuine concern for Samwell's interests. It was clear she'd rather see herself suffer losses than have him lose money.

Their conversation was interrupted by a Dayne knight riding alongside the carriage and calling out:

"Your Grace, the lords of House Jordayne await ahead to welcome your arrival."

Samwell pulled back the curtain and stepped out of the carriage.

"Good. We'll rest at Tor tonight."

"Yes, Your Grace."

A knight led two warhorses forward. Samwell helped Nathalie into her saddle before mounting his own. Together, they rode toward the waiting delegation, flanked by the knights of House Dayne.

As they crested a sandy ridge, Samwell caught sight of the green quill-and-parchment banner of House Jordayne.

House Jordayne of Tor was an ancient Andal lineage. In its storied past, the family had declared themselves kings before pledging fealty to House Yronwood. When Nymeria of the Rhoynar crossed the sea, House Jordayne had stood alongside the Yronwoods to resist House Martell's unification of Dorne.

During Arianne Martell's recent attack on House Yronwood, House Jordayne had similarly aligned themselves with the Yronwoods, opposing the Martells. With Samwell's arrival, they now displayed sufficient warmth and loyalty.

"Your Grace, welcome to Tor," said a young woman standing at the front of the welcoming party. She wore a striking red gown and curtsied gracefully.

"You must be Lady Myria Jordayne, the lord's daughter?"

"Yes, Your Grace," Myria replied. "My father remains imprisoned in Sunspear, but even so, Tor has not yielded to House Martell."

"Rest assured. Your father will soon be freed, and House Jordayne's loyalty will not go unrewarded."

"Thank you for your kindness, Your Grace," Myria said loudly. "House Jordayne will always be loyal to you!"

Behind her, over a hundred members of House Jordayne and their retainers bowed in unison, echoing their pledge of loyalty.

Samwell helped Lady Myria to her feet before gesturing toward Nathalie.

"This is Lady Nathalie Dayne of Starfall. Thanks to her, western Dorne has been spared the fires of war and chaos."

Myria looked thoughtful as she curtsied to Nathalie, who returned the gesture with a warm smile, though a flicker of nervousness crossed her face.

Nathalie knew exactly why Samwell had called her here. While the idea of ruling Dorne filled her with excitement, it also brought doubts about her ability to shoulder such a monumental responsibility.

Still, she couldn't refuse Samwell.

When this man had lifted her, a wildling girl, to the lordship of Starfall, he had irrevocably changed her fate. Since then, Nathalie had known her life was forever tied to his. Whatever he asked of her, she would do her utmost to fulfill.

After the pleasantries, the trio rode side by side toward Tor.

Behind them, hundreds of armored knights marched in tight formation, their polished lances gleaming under the sun. Their steady hoofbeats echoed like thunder, weaving a serpentine path through the yellow sand dunes.

Overhead, the Cleopatra swooped low, circling above its master. Its vast wings cast a shadow over the procession, its fiery breath and imposing presence instilling awe among the Jordayne retainers.

When they reached the western gates of Tor, Samwell and Lady Myria led the way across the drawbridge into the city.

Crowds lined the main street, their cheers swelling into a roar as they caught sight of the massive dragon and the gleaming knights.

In these tumultuous times, strength represented safety and protection.

With House Martell's influence in sharp decline, Dorne's lords desperately needed a strong figure to unify their fractured land.

War-weary and famine-stricken, the Dornish people yearned for stability and peace more than ever before.

Now, to them, Caesar and his dragon embodied that hope.

(End of Chapter)